Read Online The Black Cabinet by Patricia Wentworth - Free Book Online Page A

least bit offended. But it would really interest me to know why you can’t take Danesborough and half a million—I think I told you it was half a million.”
    Chloe had an impulse of anger, an impulse of pity.
    â€œI don’t know you,” she said. “I shouldn’t even know you. I should feel—yes, always—that I was taking things from a stranger. You can’t be a daughter to someone whom you don’t know.” In the end pity came uppermost with a rush. “I’m—I’m so dreadfully sorry, Mr. Dane,” she said.
    There was a pause. Mitchell Dane shifted from his right foot to his left, held the right foot to the fire, and said nothing. If he felt any disappointment or hurt feeling, no sign of it appeared. He seemed to be lost in thought and unaware of Chloe. She had time to find the silence oppressive before he said,
    â€œWhen you interrupted me just now I was about to tell you that there are various people who would be quite pleased to have the handling of my stock-in-trade. Some of these have been associated with me in business, and I dare say they think themselves quite competent to carry on without me. Now, Chloe, this is what I want to impress upon you—”
    â€œWhy are you telling me this?” said Chloe.
    â€œBecause I choose,” said Mitchell Dane. “I ask nothing of you except that you should listen and remember what I am saying. I do not wish any of these persons to have the handling of my stock-in-trade. I trust you to see that they do not have the opportunity of doing so.”
    â€œWhat have I got to do with it? I can’t, indeed I can’t!”
    â€œYou’re too fond of that word, I think. I’m really only asking you to remember what I’m saying. I won’t keep you much longer. But I wish to tell you something—something rather important. When I came here two years ago, I had a safe built into the wall behind that cabinet. It’s a very special safe. I had the cabinet adapted in order to accommodate and conceal it. As the cabinet has stood in this place for at least a hundred years, it would not, I think, occur to anyone that there was a safe behind it.”
    â€œBut the men, the men who did the work—they would talk,” said Chloe.
    â€œWroughton and I did the work,” said Mitchell Dane. “And the cabinet is clamped to the wall; and to the floor—for greater security.”
    â€œThen Mr. Wroughton knows?”
    â€œYes.”
    With the one short word Mitchell Dane left the hearth, went to the cabinet, and unlocked the doors. The cabinet was in two parts. It was the upper doors that he flung open, disclosing a number of small drawers ornamented with fishes, dragon-flies, and birds. The gold on the drawers was much fresher and brighter than the gold on the outside of the cabinet.
    Chloe remembered these drawers very well. One of the uncles had collected butterflies when he was a boy, and his collection had occupied the whole top of the cabinet.
    â€œAre the butterflies still there?” she asked.
    He pulled out a drawer and showed her a slightly damaged peacock butterfly, rather jostled by a large stag-beetle.
    â€œYes, they’re here—a little the worse for wear. That’s time, not me; I haven’t disturbed them.” He looked at the draggled peacock wings with something that just fell short of being a smile.
    â€œBroken butterflies, eh?” he said. “I’ve seen a good many in my time. The collection struck me as being appropriate—quite appropriate. Now, Chloe, look! This is new since your time.”
    He opened two drawers, one on the right and the other on the left, pulling them right out. Then with either hand he reached into the space’ left by each drawer, and Chloe heard a click. He stepped back, and said,
    â€œIt’s quite simple—just a little spring catch on either side. Put in your hand and feel for