“Now, Fred, stop,” she said; “Herbert, you go up to the house and tell Betty to come along. If she can’t find her camera, tell her to come without it. I wish we had a megaphone so we could call her. Go on, Herbert.”
“Stay where you are, Herbert,” said his brother. “I shall go. It’s all right, Minna, I won’t tease the child, – I promise you. It’s all right, dear.”
He kissed his wife lightly on the brow, and started off at a swinging pace up the rocky flight of steps.
“I’ll fetch her,” he called back, as he proceeded beyond hearing distance. “Chirk up, Minna, Janet; tell her I shan’t abuse Betty.”
“What does he mean by that?” asked Mrs Herbert of Mrs Frederick, as she repeated the message.
“Oh, nothing,” and Mrs Frederick clasped her hands resignedly. “Only you know how Betty and her father are always more or less at odds. I don’t know why it is, – they’re devoted to each other, yet they’re always quarreling.”
“They don’t mean anything,” and her sister-in-law smiled. “I know them both, and they’re an ideal father and daughter.”
CHAPTER III
The Tragedy
Doctor Herbert Varian stood slightly apart from the rest of the group, his observant eyes taking in all the details of the peculiar situation of his brother’s house. His eye traversed back over the short distance they had already come, and he saw a narrow, winding and exceedingly steep path. At intervals it was a succession of broken, irregular steps, rocky and sharp-edged. Again, it would be a fairly easy, though stony footway. But it led to the house, and had no branch or side track in any direction.
“Everything and everybody that comes to this house has to come by this path?” he demanded.
“Yes,” said Minna Varian, and added, complainingly, “a most disagreeable arrangement. All the servants and tradespeople have to use it as well as ourselves and our guests.”
“That could be remedied,” suggested Varian, “a branch, say – ”
“We’ll never do it,” said Minna, sharply. “I don’t like the place well enough to buy it, though that is what Fred has in mind – ”
“No, don’t buy it,” advised her brother-in-law. “I see nothing in its favor except its wonderful beauty and strange, weird charm. That’s a good deal, I admit, but not enough for a comfortable summer home.”
He turned and gazed out over the open sea. From the high headland the view was unsurpassable. The few nearby boats seemed lost in the great expanse of waters. Some chugging motor boats and a dozen or so sailing craft ventured not very far from shore. North, along the Maine coast, he saw only more rocky promontories and rockbound inlets.
Turning slowly toward the South, he saw the graceful curve of Headland Harbor, with its grouped village houses and spreading array of summer cottages.
“I never saw anything finer,” he declared. “I almost think, Minna, after all, you would be wise to buy the place, and then, arrange to make it more getatable. A continuous flight of strong wooden steps – ”
“Would spoil the whole thing!” exclaimed Claire Blackwood. “Oh, Doctor Varian, don’t propose anything like that! We Harborers love this place, just as it is, and we would defend it against any such innovations. I think there’s a law about defacing natural scenery.”
“Don’t bother,” said Minna, carelessly; “we’ll never do anything of the sort. I won’t agree to it.”
“That’s right,” said her sister-in-law. “This is no place to bring up Betty. The girl has no real society here, no advantages, no scope. She’ll become a savage – ”
“Not Betty,” Minna Varian laughed. “She’s outdoor-loving and all that, but she has nothing of the barbarian in her. I think she’d like to go to a far gayer resort. But her father – ”
“Where is her father?” asked Doctor Varian, impatiently. “It will be dark before we get to our picnic. Why don’t they come?”
He gave a loud view-halloo, but only the echoes from the rocky heights answered him.
“I knew it!” and Minna Varian began to wring her hands. “He and Betty are quarreling, – I am sure of it!”
“What do you mean, Min? What’s this quarreling business about?”
“They’ve always done it, – it’s nothing new. They adore each other, but they’re eternally disagreeing and fighting it out. They’re quite capable of forgetting all about us, and arguing out some foolish subject while we sit here waiting for them!”
“I’ll go and stir them up,” the doctor said, starting in the direction of the house.
“Oh, no, Herbert. It’s a hard climb, and you’ve enough walking ahead of you.”
“I’ll go,” and Ted Landon looked inquiringly at Mrs Varian.
“Oh, what’s the use?” she said; “they’ll surely appear in a minute.”
So they all waited a few minutes longer and then Janet Varian spoke up.
“I think it’s a shame to keep us here like this. Go on up to the house, Mr Landon, do. Tell those two foolish people that they must come on or the picnic will proceed without them.”
“All right,” said Ted, and began sprinting over the rocks.
“I’m going, too,” and Claire Blackwood followed Landon.
“We may as well all go, and have our picnic on our own verandah,” said Minna, complainingly, and though Doctor Varian would have preferred that to any further exertions, he did not say so.
“It’s always like this,” Minna’s querulous voice went on; “whenever we start to go anywhere, somebody has to go back for something and they’re so slow and so inconsiderate of other people’s feelings – ”
“There they go,” interrupted Doctor Varian as the two latest emissaries went up over the rocks. “Now the house will swallow them up!”
“Oh, Herbert, don’t say such awful things,” wailed Minna; “you sound positively creepy! I have a feeling of fear of that house anyway, – I believe it would like to swallow people up!”
“Ought we to intrude?” Claire Blackwood laughingly asked of Landon, as they neared the house; “if Betty and her father want to quarrel, they ought to be allowed to do so in peace.”
“Oh, well, if they insist, we’ll go away again, and let them have it out comfortably. Queer thing, for Daughter and Dad to make a habit of scrapping!”
“I take Mrs Varian’s statements with a grain of salt,” said Claire, sagely. “She’s not awfully well balanced, that woman, and I doubt if Betty and her father are half as black as they’re painted. Shall we ring the bell or walk right in?”
But this question needed no answer, for as they mounted the steps of the verandah and neared the open front door, they were confronted by the sight of Mr Frederick Varian sprawled at full length on the floor of the hall.
“Oh, heavens, what is the matter?” cried Claire; “the man has had a stroke or something!”
Landon went nearer, and with a grave face, stooped down to the prostrate figure.
“Claire,” he whispered, looking up at her with a white face, “Claire, this man is dead.”
“What? No, – no! it can’t be – ”
“Yes, he is, – I’m almost certain, – I don’t think I’d better touch him, – or, should I? It can do no harm to feel for his heart, – no, it is not beating, – what does it mean? Where’s Miss Varian?”
“Think quickly, Mr Landon, what we ought to do.” Claire