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Hush!" for the girl had sprung half screaming from her chair. "This is important." He laid his hand on her arm to detain her. "We want you to help us!" "Help you! Why, you scare me to death!" She had paused, but stood trembling from head to foot. "There is something explained in one of Mr. Keene's papers, addressed to Mr.
Rheumatic fever, coming close on a severe bullet wound, had brought him very near to death; and the first thing he heard when he began to recover, was that he would never stand upright again. He is answering Keene's salutation.
But the tribute to the craftsmanship, the skill, the ease and beauty of Keene's line, to his knowledge of effect, to the very great artist is unmeasured.
He resigned himself to go through all his repertoire, was a dead dog, begged, leaped a stick back and forth, went lame, and in his newly awakened interest performed several tricks of which she had been unaware. Her joyful cries of commendation "Played an encore! an encore! He did, he did! Cutest old dog in the United States!" caught Mrs. Keene's attention.
This was what perplexed and oppressed me. I needed all the time until the next Saturday to think the question through, to decide what should be done. But the matter was taken out of my hands. After our latest expedition Keene's dark mood returned upon him with sombre intensity.
The reefs had been shaken out, and every sail set to catch the steadier breeze of the day; and as the quickening sun shone upon the dazzling canvas that seemed to envelop them, they felt as if wrapped in the purity of a baptismal robe. Nevertheless, Miss Keene's eyes occasionally wandered from the charming prospect towards the companion-ladder.
Silas Keene's senses were yet in a daze, and his head ached enough to split. He glanced at the pleasant face of the young engineer, then about the room, as if wondering where he was. "You are puzzled, Mr. Keene." "Well, I should say so," returned the detective. "I cannot account for it, nohow." "This is my home, Mr. Keene, and you are welcome to remain here until you choose to depart.
The fair and gentle reader who may be shocked at this revelation of Eleanor Keene's character will remember that she has not been recorded as an angel in these pages but as a very human, honest, inexperienced girl, for the first time struggling with the most diplomatic, Machiavellian, and hypocritical of all the passions.
Nothing annoyed her like Mrs. Danvers' obtrusive partisanship and uncouth flattery. The gleam of pleasure that shone out on Keene's dark face for a moment, only Harry interpreted rightly. He had scarcely listened to the words, but he thought, "I knew I was right; I knew the voice would match the rest!" When they moved on again, he walked by Miss Tresilyan's side, and "still their speech was song."
This perhaps accounts for the unmistakable fact that Leech's popularity has been so much greater than Keene's, and I believe is still. He is as much admired by the artists of France and Germany as by our own if not more.
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