The Sunday dinners with the Daniels family were almost regular weekly functions now.He dodged them when he could,but he could not do so often without telling an absolute lie,and this he would not do.And,regularly,when the solemn meal was eaten,Captain Elkanah went upstairs for his nap and the Reverend John was left alone with Annabel.Miss Daniels did her best to be entertaining,was,in fact,embarrassingly confidential and cordial.It was hard work to get away,and yet,somehow or other,at the stroke of four,the minister always said good-by and took his departure.
What is your hurry,Mr.Ellery?begged Annabel on one occasion when the reading of Moore's poems had been interrupted in the middle by the guest's sudden rising and reaching for his hat.Idon't see why you always go so early.It's so every time you're here.Do you call at any other house on Sunday afternoons?No,was the prompt reply.Oh,no.
Then why can't you stay?You know I--that is,pa and I--would LOVE to have you.Thank you.Thank you.You're very kind.But I really must go.
Good afternoon,Miss Daniels.
Mrs.Rogers said she saw you going across the fields after you left here last Sunday.Did you go for a walk?Er--er--yes,I did.
I wish you had mentioned it.I love to walk,and there are SO few people that I find congenial company.Are you going for a walk now?Why,no--er--not exactly.
I'm sorry.GOOD-by.Will you come again next Sunday?Of COURSEyou will.You know how dreadfully disappointed I--we--shall be if you don't.Thank you,Miss Daniels.I enjoyed the dinner very much.Good afternoon.He hurried down the path.Annabel watched him go.Then she did an odd thing.She passed through the sitting room,entered the front hall,went up the stairs,tiptoed by the door of her father's room,and then up another flight to the attic.From here a steep set of steps led to the cupola on the roof.In that cupola was a spyglass.
Annabel opened a window a few inches,took the spyglass from its rack,adjusted it,laid it on the sill of the open window and knelt,the glass at her eye.The floor of the cupola was very dusty and she was wearing her newest and best gown,but she did not seem to mind.
Through the glass she saw the long slope of Cannon Hill,with the beacon at the top and Captain Mayo's house near it.The main road was deserted save for one figure,that of her late caller.He was mounting the hill in long strides.
She watched him gain the crest and pass over it out of sight.Then she shifted the glass so that it pointed toward the spot beyond the curve of the hill,where the top of a thick group of silver-leafs hid the parsonage.Above the tree tops glistened the white steeple of the Regular church.If the minister went straight home she could not see him.But under those silver-leafs was the beginning of the short cut across the fields where Didama had seen Mr.Ellery walking on the previous Sunday.
So Annabel watched and waited.Five minutes,then ten.He must have reached the clump of trees before this,yet she could not see him.Evidently,he had gone straight home.She drew a breath of relief.
Then,being in a happier frame of mind,and the afternoon clear and beautiful,she moved the glass along the horizon,watching the distant white specks across the bay on the Wellmouth bluffs--houses and buildings they were--the water,the shore,the fish weirs,the pine groves.She became interested in a sloop,beating into Wellmouth harbor,and watched that.After a time she heard,in the house below,her father shouting her name.
She gave the glass one more comprehensive sweep preparatory to closing it and going downstairs.As she did this a moving speck came into view and vanished.
Slowly she moved the big end of the spyglass back along the arc it had traveled.She found the speck and watched it.It was a man,striding across the meadow land,a half mile beyond the parsonage,and hurrying in the direction of the beach.She saw him climb a high dune,jump a fence,cross another field and finally vanish in the grove of pines on the edge of the bluff by the shore.
The man was John Ellery,the minister.Evidently,he had not gone home,nor had he taken the short cut.Instead he had walked downtown a long way and THEN turned in to cross the fields and work his way back.
Annabel put down the glass and,heedless of her father's calls,sat thinking.The minister had deliberately deceived her.More than that,he had gone to considerable trouble to avoid observation.
Why had he done it?Had he done the same thing on other Sunday afternoons?Was there any real reason why he insisted on leaving the house regularly at four o'clock?
Annabel did not know.Her eyes snapped and her sharp features looked sharper yet as she descended the steps to the attic.She did not know;but she intended to find out.
