Ladies’ Bane (13 page)

Two women screamed, there was a man’s warning shout, the ranks of the crowd divided, and before Ione could recover her balance a tweed-covered arm shot out and a stick with a large open crook linked itself about Allegra’s outflung arm. It jerked her back. She took a stumbling step or two and went down. The lights changed, people crowded round. Ione sat on the edge of the kerb with Allegra’s head in her lap. The tweed-covered arm and the crooked stick had disappeared. Amongst the murmur of voices one reached her with a note of calm and kind authority.

“Miss Muir, I have managed to procure a taxi. Miss Falconer informs me that the George is a good and quiet hotel. If we could take your sister there we could ascertain whether a doctor should be sent for, but I believe she has only fainted from the shock.”

With feelings of deep gratitude Ione looked up and saw that she was being addressed by the little governessy person whom she knew to be Miss Falconer’s paying guest.

With the assistance of the taxi driver and another man Allegra was lifted into the car. As they drove away, Ione felt no surprise at finding that Miss Silver was still with them. The name had come back to her, though she had not been able to recall it in the first shock. But she remembered it now, and Miss Falconer making the introduction in the village shop-“Miss Silver who is so kind as to come and stay with me at this bleak time of the year. It is nice to have a guest who is not afraid of the winter.”

It came to Ione to wonder whether Miss Silver would be afraid of anything. With everybody else gasping, crowding, and exclaiming, she had not only presented an appearance of perfect calm but she had conjured up a taxi. With her fingers at Allegra’s wrist, she now gave a slight cough as if to command attention and said,

“Her pulse is quite steady. I am sure there is no cause for alarm.”

As she spoke, Allegra opened her eyes, gave a faint cry, and attempted to sit up.

“Oh, what has happened?”

Ione said,

“Nothing. We were pushed off the kerb, and you had a fall.”

“I can’t-remember. Am I-hurt?”

“I don’t think so. Do you feel as if you were?”

She did sit up this time, turning her head and moving her arms and legs. In the end she said in an almost disappointed tone.

“No, I don’t seem to be, do I?” She looked down at her hands. “Oh, I’ve split my glove!”

By the time they arrived at the George she only needed Ione’s arm to steady her, and was presently able to come into the dining-room for lunch.

Warmly pressed to stay, Miss Silver did so. There were things she wished to say, and she hoped that she might have an opportunity of saying them. It came when the excellent lunch had been disposed of and they had withdrawn into a comfortable small sitting-room with the assurance from the manageress that no one would disturb them there. She even produced a rug to cover Allegra if she cared to rest upon the sofa. Ione tucked her up, and by the time the others had finished their coffee she was deeply asleep.

Ione moved a little nearer to Miss Silver and dropped her voice.

“What happened? Were you behind us? What did you see?”

Miss Silver shook her head regretfully.

“Very little, I am afraid. There was a very big man in front of me wearing one of those old-fashioned Inverness capes. It was he, of course, who saved your sister’s life. No one could have reached her in time, but he caught her arm with the crook of his stick.” Ione drew in her breath.

“I didn’t see him,” she said-“only his arm-and the stick. He must have gone away.”

Miss Silver said in a non-committal voice,

“He may not have wanted to be thanked.”

Ione said very earnestly indeed,

“Did you see him? Could you describe him?”

Miss Silver’s gaze dwelt on her with interest.

“He was a big man, and of course the cape made him look bigger. I did not at that time see his face. But there are two small points to which I may perhaps draw your attention-”

Ione broke in upon what promised to be a leisurely sentence.

“Yes-what were they? Oh, please forgive me, but you don’t know how important it is!”

Miss Silver smiled at her kindly. Youth is always in a hurry.

“He had quite a broad Scottish accent,” she said.

“You heard him speak?”

“To a child who asked him the time. He replied, ‘Look up at the clock-tower, laddie.’ ”

Ione felt as if she had been waiting for a door to open. Now, of all things in the world, she wanted it to stay shut. And it wouldn’t-not for her or for anyone else. She said in a lagging voice,

“You said there were two things-what was the other?”

“I was behind him as we crossed the street to the island. He was humming to himself.”

“Did you know the tune?”

“Oh, yes, it was one of the better known of the Scottish airs. I knew it at once. It was ‘The Bluebells of Scotland.’ ”

The door was opened with a vengeance. What lay beyond it was terrifying and incomprehensible. Every instinct spoke of danger, and connected that danger with the Professor. She knew him to be in Wraydon. She knew him to be The Great Prospero whose presence was advertised on every hoarding, and she could have no doubt that it was he who had crossed the road humming ”The Bluebells of Scotland” and had stood on the island behind her and Allegra. When she had heard him bargaining over a life in the fog, whose life was it? Was it Allegra’s life? But he had saved Allegra. It was the crook of his stick which had snatched her back from the impending death. Had he pushed her, and then had his moment of remorse? There are mysterious promptings under which we snatch back the not quite spoken word, recall the not quite accomplished act. Had Allegra been saved because of such a prompting? But that would mean that it was Allegra’s life she had heard bargained about in the fog. The clear, hard voice of common sense said, ”Nonsense!” And something else said, “Margot died.” She was what is called an encumbrance. Perhaps Allegra was an encumbrance too.

She was aware of Miss Silver’s scrutiny. It was deep and searching. She felt as if a light was being turned upon her thoughts. It was a kind and beneficent light, but very keen. The curious thing was that she did not resent it. She said,

“Miss Silver, I think I had better tell you that I know why you are here.”

Miss Silver retained her kindly expression.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Josepha Bowden wrote and told me. She is an erratic, interfering person, and I was-angry.”

“Very naturally so, Miss Muir.”

“And then I met you. I could see that you were not at all the sort of person I expected. Josepha had really no right to butt in on a delicate family matter, but she is, and always has been, devoted to Allegra, and if you love anyone, it is hard to stand by and not know how it is with them. I don’t want you to think that Allegra’s family has been neglectful. The cousin who brought us up has had an illness, and I could not leave her. I had been out in the States, and returned to find her between life and death. Then, when she was better, every plan to see my sister fell through. There was always a perfectly reasonable excuse, but-we didn’t meet. I was getting desperate, when this visit of mine was proposed, and this time it actually came off. Apparently Josepha was getting desperate too, and when she is desperate she really can be very alarming. I am always expecting her to get mixed up in a libel action, or a slander case or something, because she doesn’t care what she says.”

Miss Silver agreed in her own way.

“She is perhaps inclined to vehemence. When she first spoke to me I was doubtful about taking the case, but on reflection it seemed to me that I could do no possible harm by coming down here for a week. If I found that Miss Bowden’s fears were groundless, that Mrs. Trent was living happily with her husband, and that no undue pressure was being put upon her in the matter of the Ladies’ House, then Miss Bowden’s fears would be relieved, and I felt she would consider that I had earned my fee. If, on the other hand, there was anything wrong, it would be as well that someone who had Mrs. Trent’s interests at heart should know of it.”

Ione was looking at her earnestly.

“And what conclusion did you come to?”

“I became aware that your sister was taking drugs.”

The colour rushed into Ione’s face.

“I know! But she is better, Miss Silver, she is really better. Someone must have persuaded her to take the stuff in the rush before the wedding. Geoffrey discovered it on their honeymoon. He has told me all about it. He took her to a French doctor, and he thought she was cured, but it has cropped up again. Today he told me that he had found out where she kept her supply, and that he and Doctor Whichcote were weaning her from it with diminishing doses. She is very, very much better than when I arrived-I couldn’t think what had happened to her then. Of course it explains why she wouldn’t meet me and everything.”

Miss Silver said, “Yes.” Then she folded her hands in her lap and looked very directly at Ione.

“Miss Muir, are you in your own mind quite satisfied about the death of Margot Trent?”

There was a sense of tingling shock. The colour which had risen so brightly as she spoke of Allegra now faded out. She said in an uncertain voice,

“What do you mean?”

Miss Silver coughed.

“It could doubtless have been an accident. The girl was careless, and not possessed of any high order of reasoning. She has been described to me by a number of people, and I have been left with the impression that, so far as mental development went, she was an irresponsible child of seven or eight years old. Does this agree with your own judgment?”

“Yes-I think so. But many children of seven or eight would have a great deal more sense. I don’t think she had any.”

“That being the case, what do you suppose would have been her reaction if someone had suggested to her that she should take one of those old ropes and practice some kind of climbing trick upon the quarry face?”

“Miss Silver!”

“Would it have appealed to her?”

“Of course it would. She would have jumped at it. Anyone who knew her would know that. But no one-no one would do such a thing! It is horrible to suggest it!”

Miss Silver agreed mildly.

“But I believe that it may have happened. I will tell you something which I had not meant to repeat. As you say, the suggestion is horrible. But Margot Trent is dead, and if it had not been for a most curious and unexpected interposition Mrs. Trent might have met with the same fate. It is not possible at the moment to relate these two matters more closely than that, but after what happened this morning I feel that I ought not to keep any information back from you.”

“Yes-” said Ione.

There was a sound in her voice which moved Miss Silver’s heart. She gave Miss Muir the smile with which she had been wont in the schoolroom to encourage a hesitant pupil. It had never yet failed of its effect, and it did not do so now. There was a sense of support, and a promise that difficulties would be overcome. She continued to look kindly in Ione’s direction as she said,

“Old Humphreys, the gardener at the Ladies’ House, came down to see Miss Falconer last night. I was at the other end of the room, and I am sure now that he did not realize I was there, but of course that did not occur to me at the time. He had been forcing some hyacinths for her, and they were just coming into bloom-three lovely bowls with four bulbs in each. Miss Falconer was doing her best to be vexed and telling him he ought not to use Mr. Trent’s bulbs and the heat of his greenhouse to force things on for her, and Humphreys was being very downright about it. Of course everyone knows how devoted he is to Miss Falconer, but he really was quite rude.”

“He probably remembers her when she was a little girl.”

Miss Silver smiled, but retained a faint shade of disapproval in her voice.

“Oh, yes, he has been fifty years in the place, and so was his father before him. He quite flared up and said, ‘You don’t need to think nothing about it, ma’am! What’s a few bulbses to Mr. Trent?’ And I put it to him straight when he come-Miss Falconer she’ll have her bulbses brought along same as she’s always had them. And he says, ‘That’ll be all right, Humphreys.’ ”

“Yes, I’m sure,” said Ione.

“Miss Falconer said she would thank him, and Humphreys said a very curious thing. You must remember that I was on the other side of the room in one of those deep armchairs, and I realize now that he could have had no idea that I was there. He said, ‘Mr. Trent don’t want to be thanked, ma’am, and least said soonest mended. I kept my mouth shut at that there inquest. Never did hold with lawyers asking a lot of questions, and none of their business.’ ”

“What did he mean?”

“I was very much startled, and so, I am sure, was Miss Falconer. She said at once what did he mean, and that if he had not told all he knew at the inquest, it was very wrong of him. He just stood there shaking his head and saying his tongue was his own and he didn’t hold with lawyers. Then he said there were some that were better out of the way, and Miss Falconer became very much distressed. I could see she was afraid the old man might have done something to the girl himself. I think Humphreys saw that too, because all of a sudden he changed his tone. ‘Now don’t you take on, ma’am,’ he said, ‘for there’s no call. I told the Crowner that mischeevious girl let fly a piece of cheek at me. Well, he never asked me what it was, did he? It weren’t for me to tell him if he didn’t ask, so I kept a still tongue. But I’m telling you, ma’am, because I don’t want you to think no such thing as I can see you’re a-thinking. I up and says to that girl, “There’s one of my ropes you’ve got under that coat of yours, for I can see the end a-dangling.” And she makes a face at me and calls out, “Geoffrey says I can have it,” and off with her, laughing fit to bust herself.’ ”

Ione drew in her breath sharply.

“Miss Silver, he couldn’t!”

Miss Silver coughed.

“We do not know that he did. She had been caught taking something out of the gardener’s shed. Would it not be quite natural for her to say that she had authority from Mr. Trent?”

“I don’t know. It would have been very awkward for Geoffrey if it had come out at the inquest.”

Miss Silver agreed.

“It would not have looked well. Miss Falconer was a good deal upset. She said yes, yes, she thought Humphreys had been quite right to hold his tongue. It was just the kind of thing a naughty girl might say, and most likely not true in the least, and she hoped he wouldn’t repeat it to anyone, because it would be very painful to Mr. Trent. And Humphreys said, ‘That’s just what I thought, ma’am,’ and he went away.”

There was a long odd silence. Then Ione said,

“Why did you tell me this?”

“I think you know why, Miss Muir.”

“Yes, I know why. But you-I don’t know why you should have thought it necessary. You see, there is something I haven’t told you.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Yes, I must.”

Miss Silver listened attentively to her story of being lost in the fog, and the conversation she had heard after her fall down the steps of an unknown house.

“I could only hear one side of the conversation, because the person on the inner side of the door never got beyond a whisper. But the other one spoke quite loud. He said he was a very dependable person and he had never failed anyone. He said his word was his bond. He had a strong Scottish accent and he rolled his r’s. And he had his foot in the door. He said he would take it out when he was ready, and not before. The person on the inside was in a hurry to get rid of him, and no wonder, but he just stood there and talked. He wasn’t drunk, but he had had as much whisky as was good for him, and this is what I heard him say. ‘If you think it’s reasonable to turn a man out in a fog like this you can just consider who’ll do your dirty work for you if I’m run over. And I haven’t said I’ll do it yet, but I’ll give it my careful consideration and let you know. But you’ll have to think again about the remuneration. I’ll not do it for any less than two thousand, and it’s my opinion I’d be a fool to do it for that. It’s my neck I’ll be risking, and I’ll not risk it for a penny less than two thousand pounds.’ And he went off up the road whistling ‘The Bluebells of Scotland.’ ”

Miss Silver’s expression was one of alert attention.

“What did you do?”

“I followed him. I was quite lost, and he seemed to know where he was going.”

She told about the meeting with Jim Severn, and how the three of them went into the empty house of which he had the key and sat on the stairs waiting for the fog to lift.

“I am afraid I went to sleep with my head on Jim’s shoulder, but I did wake up once when the Scot was saying his name was Professor Robert MacPhail, and another time-at least I think it was another time-when he was arguing about the old problem of the mandarin in China. You know? Suppose you could benefit three-quarters of the human race by pressing a button and destroying this mandarin. Jim Severn was saying that the button-pusher would be wondering what he was going to get out of it himself, he wouldn’t be worrying about the rest of the human race. They were still arguing about it when I went to sleep again. And when I really did wake up the fog had gone, and so had the Professor. But on that Sunday when Margot was killed Jim and I were lunching here, and Jim ran into him in the coffee-room. He said Robert MacPhail was just his private name, but he was here professionally as Professor Regulus Mactavish or The Great Prospero.”

Miss Silver said,

“You interest me extremely. Miss Falconer and I came in to the matinee yesterday afternoon. He is an illusionist, and his act is a very clever one. I recognized him immediately when we were crossing the road to the island.”

Ione leaned forward.

“Miss Silver-did he push Allegra-could he have pushed her?”

Miss Silver shook her head.

“I cannot tell you whether he pushed her. He certainly could have done so. That roomy Inverness cape would hide the movement of an arm. But if he pushed your sister, why should he have saved her? Do you really believe that it was she whom he intended to push? Did you feel nothing yourself?”

Miss Silver in her black cloth jacket and her second-best hat, one of those durable felts which survive the buffetings of many winters-her whole safe, kind governessy appearance, receded. They were a long way off, like something seen through a diminishing glass. The worn, yellowish fur tippet discarded because of the warmth of the room and hanging over an arm of Miss Silver’s chair, the strong black woollen gloves neatly rolled up in Miss Silver’s lap, the shabby handbag which had seen so much useful service-these were all present in miniature at the end of a constantly lengthening vista. Everything shook and was unstable.

Miss Silver’s small, firm hand came out and took her own.

“Just put your head down, my dear. You will be all right in a moment.”

Ione did as she was told. Everything was coming back into its place. She said,

“I’m all right now. It was just-a shock. You asked me if I did not feel anything myself. And of course I did. I felt a kind of glancing blow down my left side. We were being pressed from behind, and I was afraid we might be forced off the island on to the roadway, so I took a step to the right and got hold of the foot of one of those statues. If I hadn’t-”

Miss Silver said gravely,

“That blow would have struck you between the shoulders.”

The silence settled. It was a long time before Ione could bring herself to say,

“He meant to push
me
?”

“If you had not moved, it was you who would have been pushed.”

“I see-”

“Miss Muir, will you tell me something?”

“What is it?”

“Miss Bowden informed me that both you and your sister have money.”

“Yes.”

“Then in the event of your death-”

“The money would go to Allegra.”

“And in the event of Mrs. Trent’s death?”

“Her share would come to me.”

“Then Mr. Trent would have no possible motive for desiring his wife’s death.”

“Of course not-Miss Silver!”

Miss Silver said equably,

“There would be no motive for Mrs. Trent’s death. There was a motive for the death of that poor girl Margot. She had a good deal of money, had she not, and it passes to Mr. Trent. In your own case there would also be a motive. You have a considerable fortune, and it would pass to your sister.”

Ione’s pallor was quite unbroken. Her eyes had a wide, dark stare. She said only just above her breath,

“No-no-it’s too horrible-”