She Painted her Face (20 page)

It was a very near thing.

I never could have done it without Caroline's help, for she handled the cord with such skill, always just taking the strain, but never taking my weight, that I depended upon her from first to last. When after a frightful convulsion I got a foot on to the lever, to hang, bent double half in and half out of the flood; when the water clung to my body, as though reluctant to let go its lawful prey; when I made my list desperate effort to heave myself clear of its clutches and, keeping my foot on the lever, to straighten my knee; when I was up and was standing against the wall of the well, and all the handhold I had was the lever a bare two inches above my knee; when I dared to let go of this and, bracing my thigh against it, put up my hands above me, to search the wall At these times that poor cord saved me— and nothing else. And yet it must have broken, if once it had taken my weight.

TREMBLING, I straightened my back and put up my hands— and met the last rung of the ladder shoulder-high.

Reaching up as far as I could, I could actually grip the last but two of the dogs driven into the side of the wall. Be sure I tested the three as well as I could. Then I mounted my second lever and tested the fourth and the fifth.

Though rust had corrupted them all, they seemed to be sound, and since they were very thick and were almost certainly grappled behind the stones of the well, I wasted no more time, but swung myself up.

Once I was on the ladder I called my lady by name: and when she replied I told her to drop the cord.

"I'm on the ladder," I said. "But I want to know where it stops."

"Just clear of the parapet. Richard."

"Stand still where you are," said I. "I'll come and see."

It was as she said. The last of the dogs-or the first-was set perhaps six inches below the true rim of the well.

"Draw the cord tight," I said, "and then give me your end."

I passed this round my body and then threw it back.

"Put it round the wheel again and give it to me."

Again she did as I said; and again I passed it about me and pitched the end of it back.

"Now make that fast to the wheel, and then stand clear."

There was a moment's silence.

Then:

"All right, Richard," she said.

"Are you standing well back?"

—I am."

I took the five strands In my hand, and took a step up. The dogs were taking my weight, but the cord was holding me into the side of the well. I mounted step by step and hand over hand. As my head rose above the parapet I saw Caroline standing with one of her hands to her throat.

Three more steps.

Then I flung a leg over the wall and pulled myself in.

I WAS LYING flat on the cobbles with my head in Caroline's lap.

"You've paid your debts," I said somehow "You saved my life."

"If I did, then I saved my own. But I didn't save it, my darling. I may have helped; but I think your great heart saved you, and nothing else."

I laughed at that.

"You wouldn't say that, my sweet, if you'd seen me down in that water an hour ago."

Caroline smiled her rare smile. Then she glanced at her watch.

"Did it seem so long, my darling? It's not quite twenty minutes since you sent me out of this court."

Whilst I was still staring, she put down her lips to mine. Then she held my head to her breast and kept saying "My Richard," and smoothing my dripping wet hair. And then she kneeled upon the cobbles, which must have hurt very much, and thanked the God that made her for bringing me out of the well.

And, perhaps because I was shaken and not yet myself, I lost what control I had and the tears ran down my cheeks. And, seeing this, she broke into tears herself, and the two of us wept together for joy of being together and both alive.

Ten minutes later we left that sinister court.

To the best of my belief all traces of our occupation had been removed, and unless the well were searched, which was improbable, no one, I think, would have guessed that the haunted peace of Palfrey had been disturbed.

Elgar's body lay with his master's within the well, and the ounce of blood he had lost was cloaked with a handful of soil. Made fast to a block of stone, the pieces of cord and the strap lay fifty feet deep; and, except for the two tyre-levers, the tool-kit was once more complete. And the dressing-case rested behind us, its cargo of stone discharged.

Clear of the court, I stopped by Caroline's wish. Then I left the car and stripped and rubbed myself down with the silk with which we two had been gagged; then I wrung out my trousers and put them back on my legs; but I drove to Brief barebacked, "for a shirt that is soaked," she insisted, "is worse than nothing at all."

And then we set out for Brief.

IT WAS VERY near three o'clock when I berthed the car in the shadows which masked the entrance-drive, for now the moon was up and was refining the country on which, as we both believed, we had looked our last an hour and a quarter before.

Ten minutes later, perhaps, we entered her staircase turret and climbed its steps.

Now I had advised that Elsa be told to dress and to be beyond Brief's verge before six o'clock— unless she preferred to be charged with attempted murder and almost certainly sent to prison for life; but, to our surprise and relief, her bed was untouched and she was not within the suite. In fact, it was very soon clear that, because she did not trust Virgil— and there she can scarcely be blamed— she had discarded the role which she had been ordered to play, and had selected a better and softer part. To be short, "Mona Lisa" had fled— taking with her the best of all that Caroline had.

Her disappearance suited us very well, for we had our secrets to keep, and such a wolf in sheep's clothing was far better out of our way; and though the things she had taken were worth a good deal, their loss served to remind us of what we had saved that night.

I made the most of the bathroom before I did anything else; but, of course, I had no dry clothes and, though I begged for my shirt, soaked from my adventures in the well, Caroline would not allow me to put it on. Instead, when I reappeared she put a flask into my hand and bade me do as she told me or else go off to my bed. Since some things remained to be settled I let her have her way, but I could not help thinking of the strictures which would have been passed, if the Duchess of Whelp had suddenly entered the room.

I suppose that one treasures for ever the gift of forbidden fruit, but I know that as long as I live I shall never forget the short, most intimate scene which brought to an end the drama in which we had played that night.

Less than an hour before I had been fighting for life in Palfrey's terrible well, and now I was in Caroline's exquisite bedroom, sitting, with a flask in my hand, on the foot of Caroline's bed, while Caroline sat at her mirror putting her hair to rights.

Her delicate ankle was bruised, and the wrists she had raised were marked, for the cords had chafed her skin; but bruises and stains and tears could not at all diminish the startling splendour of body which she had been given at birth, and for the five-hundredth time I wondered how Virgil had dared to lay hands upon something so perfect and irreplaceable.

Then I met her eyes in the glass; she was laughing at me. I saw myself beyond her, looking like any miner about to begin his toil.

"High time I was gone," said I, and got to my feet.

Caroline spoke over her shoulder.

"As a matter of fact, I love to see you there. When we're married you must always sit there when I'm brushing my hair."

Old Harry's words rang in my ears, and I turned away.

"I must request your assurance upon one point. That is that you are aware that you cannot possibly marry the Countess of Brief."

For an instant my spirit rebelled. She owed me her patent. I, Richard Exon, had made her the Countess of Brief. And we had faced death together. We had entered the mouth of hell and had turned round and come back together into the rolling world. And now I was in her bedroom— at half-past three of a morning, stripped to the waist— and she was before her mirror brushing her beautiful hair. And yet I could not be her husband. I could be haled up to Pisgah to view the promised land, and then, when I had viewed it and seen how fair were its fruits, I could withdraw from my view- point and go my ways...

And then I remembered Old Harry's other words:

"Always remember— these things cannot be helped. I loved a commoner once, and he loved me. But there are some bars, Richard Exon, more rigid than those you loosed. So we both of us did our duty..."

"We both of us did our duty."

I put the flask to my lips and when I drained it dry I put it back in the cupboard from which she had taken it down.

"What about tomorrow?" I said. "I mean, if we can, we'd better keep out of the wet. Not that I care. If the police knew I'd bumped him off they'd put their arms round my neck. But I can't bear anyone knowing that you were involved. And yet—"

"My darling, what are you saying?"

I turned to meet Caroline's startled eyes.

Then she laid down her brush and came and put her hands on my shoulders.

"Can you get what I'm saying, Richard, or are you all in?"

"I'm all right, my beauty, but I'm too tired to make plans."

"I'll make them for you," she said; "and now listen to me. When you leave this room you must go by the way that you came. That is, by the picture-gallery. There you must pick up the harp— I'll help you do that. And then you must pick up Winter and enter the tower. And so to bed. At seven Winter cancels the horses— you gave him that order last night, by my request. He calls you again at nine, but, because there is no one to call me, I sleep till ten. Then I find that Elsa has gone, and after a little I find that she's taken some of my things. But you don't even know that— because neither you nor your servant was out of the tower all night."

"Yes, I've got that," I said.

"It's vital, Richard— vital. If we say anything, we've got to say everything. And, except for Old Harry and Herrick, no one must ever know what happened tonight." She raised her eyebrows there and gave a little shake of her head. "I don't know the stuff I'm made of, but it hasn't upset me at all. Neither was fit to live— quite apart from the fact that you did it in self-defence. But the fact remains that you've been the death of two men— and one of these men was the cousin with whom I have been brought up. My darling, listen to me. It simply must not be known that the man whom I am to marry put Percy Virgil to death."

"Yes, I see that," I said somehow. "All right. I'll keep my counsel, and Winter will hold his tongue." I put my arms about her and held her close. "Kiss me good-night. The dawn will be coming up and I want you to get to bed."

As I kissed her mouth, she took my head in her hands.

"Oh, Richard," she breathed, "I can't bear letting you go. I've got to, of course— the conventions must be observed. You're here by accident, and so you must go away. But it seems so natural and right for you to be here. After all, how many brides have known their bride- grooms so well? Tonight we stood together beyond the world, breast high in the river that runs between life and death. And that has bound us together more tightly than any service or any plighting of troth. Supposing I was engaged to be married to somebody else. I might have meant to go through with it, although I loved you. I mean, such things have been done. But I couldn't go through with it now— not after tonight. I should have to tell him straight out that we had been joined together by God Himself, and that I had become your woman and you had become my man."

I dared not trust my voice, so I kissed her lips again: then I drew her head on my shoulder, because I did not want her to see the look in my eyes.

What she had said was most true.

We had been joined together as lovers are seldom joined. And yet we should never be married, because Old Harry would never give her consent. And I— not she— must have Old Harry's consent.

I had passed my word to the Duchess of Whelp. Unless I had passed my word, the Duchess of Whelp would not have lifted a finger to help Caroline's cause. But, once I had passed my word— well, no one could have done more than the Duchess of Whelp. I had received full value against my bond. And so my bond must be honoured— at any cost.

I threw a glance round the bedroom through which I might pass again, but to which I should never belong. I saw the flash of the bathroom which I had used that night for the first and last time; the eiderdown on which I had sat, but never should sit on again; the pier-glass which never again would show me Caroline brushing her sweet-smelling hair.

I dropped my lips to that hair.

"Goodnight," I whispered. "Goodnight, my beautiful girl."

I let her go, slipped into my sodden coat and laid my shirt over my arm. Two minutes later we stood in the picture-gallery.

By the light of the staircase-turret, I set up the eloquent harp. Then I turned to her standing beside me, picked up her little hand and put its palm to my lips.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," I whispered.

"And you, my dear. Look! I'll keep my door open until you get to the hall."

So she lighted me on my way.

When I came to the head of the staircase, I purposely bore to the left, and an instant later a torch was flashed into my eyes.

"Well done, Winter," said I. "And now we'll go back to the tower. That's enough for tonight."

In my room I gave him his orders. One of these concerned the suit which I was so glad to take off.

"Let no one see you do it, but, when you can, tomorrow, conceal this suit in the Rolls. And the next time I send you for petrol, stop in some lonely place, cut my name out of the jacket, and burn the lot."

"Very good, sir," said Winter, blinking. "And— and what about this?"

"My shirt? Oh, that doesn't matter. Hang it out on— "

And there I stopped dead.

He was not holding my shirt.

What he was holding was one of the dainty chemises with which I had rubbed myself down.

I HAD TOLD Winter to call me at nine o'clock; but, tired as I was, I awoke at a quarter to eight, and after trying in vain to go back to sleep, I presently threw in my hand and began to get up.

My state of mind was uneasy.

I could not reach my lady, because I had given her back the key of her suite. Yet, since I had her chemise, my shirt must be in her bedroom. If she found it, well and good. But if some servant found it

In fact, I need not have worried, for about ten minutes to nine a man-servant came to my room, bearing a note and a parcel addressed to me.

"Prom his lordship, sir," he said, and bowed himself out.

With starting eyes I read the following:

Mr. Exon,—

I have the honour to return you the shirt which you dropped this morning on leaving my daughter's suite. Perhaps you will make it convenient to leave the castle at once.

Brief.

I remember that I stared at the paper as though it belonged to some dream. Then I sat down and put my head in my hands. And then I stood up again because something had to be done.

As I made for the door, this was opened and Winter came into the room.

"Find Mr. Parish," I said, "and ask him to come here at once."

As it was, I was more than half dressed, and as I got into my jacket, the Englishman entered the room.

"Parish," I said, "how soon can I see her Grace?"

"Perhaps at ten, sir; but certainly not before that."

I glanced at my watch. The time was five minutes past nine.

"Very well, I must see the Count. I don't think he'll want to receive me, but if you can get hold of Bertram, perhaps you can bring it off."

"I'll manage it, sir," said Parish. "Do you wish to see him at once?"

"Immediately."

"Then come with me, sir," said Parish. "I think I know where he is."

I thrust the note into my pocket and left the room.

The respect with which Parish was treated by the servants of Brief was very nearly as deep as that they were pleased to accord to the Duchess her- self, and before two minutes had passed I was ushered unannounced into an elegant library.

As the door closed behind me:

"What the dickens does this mean?" said the Count, getting up to his feet.

I answered him slowly enough.

"It means," I said, "that we are to clear the air."

"I'll see about that," said the man, and made straight for the bell.

"I strongly advise you," I said, "not to try to have me removed. If you do, you will force my hand; and so, Lord Ferdinand Virgil, cut your throat."

I saw the shaft go home. My use of his proper title hit him beneath the heart. If more revelations were coming, better that they should come while we were alone. For all that, his eyes were burning— I was Richard Exon, and not the Duchess of Whelp.