The Five Knots
Page 7
*CHAPTER VII*
*THE SHADOW ON THE WALL*
Beatrice sat before the fire in her bedroom looking thoughtfully intothe glowing coals. If appearances counted for anything she ought tohave been a happy girl, for she seemed to lack nothing that the mostfastidious heart could desire. Samuel Flower passed rightly enough fora greedy, grasping man, but he never displayed these qualities so far ashis niece's demands were concerned. The fire was burning cheerfully onthe tiled hearth, the red silk curtains were drawn against the coldnessof the night, the soberly shaded electric lights glinted upon silver andgold and jewels scattered about Beatrice's dressing-table. The darkwalls were lined with pictures and engravings; here and there werespecimens of the old china that the mistress of the room affected.Altogether it was very cosy and very charming. It was the last place inthe world to suggest crime or trouble or catastrophe of any kind.
But Beatrice was not thinking about the strange events of the evening,for her mind had gone back to the time when she first met Wilfrid Mercerin London. He had been introduced by common friends, and from that timeBeatrice had contrived to see a good deal of him. From the first shehad liked him, perhaps because he was so different from the young men ofher acquaintance. Samuel Flower's circle had always been a moneyed one,and until she had known Wilfrid Mercer, Beatrice had met few men whowere not engaged in finance. They belonged, for the most part, to thenew and pushing order. Their ways and manners were not wholly pleasingto Beatrice. Perhaps she had been spoilt. Perhaps she valued money forthe pleasure it brought, and not according to the labour spent in thegaining of it. At any rate, she had been at few pains to show a likingfor her environment before Wilfrid's visit. Here was a man who knewsomething of the world, who could speak of other things than the Cityand the latest musical comedy. There was that about his quiet, assuredmanner and easy unconsciousness that attracted Beatrice. She knew, asevery girl does when the right man comes, that he admired her. Indeed,he had not concealed his feelings. But at that time Wilfrid wasignorant of Beatrice's real position. Naturally enough, he had notassociated her with Samuel Flower. He had somehow come to imagine thather prospects were no better than his own. There had been one or twodelightful evenings when he had spoken freely of his future, andBeatrice had thrilled with pleasure in knowing why he had made a_confidante_ of her. He had said nothing definite, but the girlunderstood intuitively that one word from her would have brought adeclaration to his lips.
It was a pretty romance and Beatrice cherished it. The whole episodewas in sharp contrast with her usual hard, brilliant surroundings.Besides, there was a subtle flattery in the way in which he had confidedin her. She had intended to keep her secret and not let Wilfrid knowhow grand her prospects were till she had talked the matter over withher guardian. That Flower would give his consent she did not doubt fora moment. He had no matrimonial views for her. Indeed, he had more thanonce hinted that if she cared to marry any really decent fellow he wouldput no obstacle in the way. Perhaps he knew enough of his own circle tofeel convinced that none of them were capable of making Beatrice happy.
These were the thoughts that stole through the girl's mind as she sat infront of the fire. She was glad to know that Wilfrid had not forgottenher. She had read in his eyes the depth and sincerity of his pleasure.He had told her frankly enough that he was taken aback at her position,and the statement had showed to Beatrice that there was no change in hissentiments regarding her. He would get used to her wealth in time. Hewould not love her any the less because she would come to him with herhands full. Ay, and she would come ready and willing to lift him beyondthe reach of poverty.
"How silly I am!" the girl murmured. "Here am I making a regularromance out of a commonplace meeting between two people who have done nomore than spend a few pleasant evenings together. Positively I blushfor myself. And yet----"
The girl rose with a sigh, conscious that she was neglecting her duties.She had come to her room without a thought for her maid who might berequiring attention. She stole across the corridor to the room whereAnnette lay. The lights were nearly all out and the corridor lookedsomewhat forbidding in the gloom. The shadows might have masked a scoreof people and Beatrice been none the wiser, a thought which flashed uponher as she hurried along. All the time she had lived at Maldon Grangeshe had never been troubled by timorous fears like these. Perhaps theearlier events of the evening had got on her nerves. She could see withfresh vividness that long, thin, skinny hand fumbling for the lock ofthe conservatory door.
It was too ridiculous, she told herself. Doubtless that prowling trampwas far enough away by this time. Besides, there were too many dogsabout the place to render a burglary likely. At the end of the corridorBeatrice's little terrier slept. The slightest noise disturbed him; hisquick ear detected every sound. Doubtless those shadows shrouding thegreat west window contained nothing more formidable than the trailingplants and exotic flowers which Beatrice had established there.
The door of the maid's room was open and the girl lay awake. Beatricecould see that her face was damp and pale and that the girl's eyes werefull of restless fear. She shook her head reproachfully.
"This is altogether wrong," she said. "Dr. Mercer told you to go tosleep at once. Really, Annette, I had no idea you were so nervous."
"I can't help it, miss," the girl whined. "I didn't know it myself tillthis afternoon. But every time I close my eyes I see those horriblecreatures dancing and jabbering, till my heart beats so fast that I canhardly breathe."
"You know they were animals," Beatrice protested. "They escaped fromthe circus in Castlebridge. I read about it in the papers. Doubtlessthey have been recaptured by now."
Annette shook her head doubtfully.
"I don't believe it, miss," she whispered. "I have been lying here withthe door open and the light of the fire shining on the wall opposite inthe corridor, as you can see at this moment. I had almost persuadedmyself the thing was a mere fright when I saw a shadow moving along thewall."
"One of the servants, of course."
"I wish I could think so, miss," the girl went on. "But it wasn't a bitlike anybody in the house. It was short and thick with enormously longarms and thin crooked fingers. I watched it for some time. I wouldhave called out if I only dared. And then when it vanished I wasashamed to speak. But it was there all the same. Don't leave me, miss."
The last words came in a beseeching whisper. With a feeling of mingledimpatience and sympathy Beatrice glanced round the room. A glass and abottle of medicine stood by the bedside.
"I declare you are all alike," Beatrice exclaimed. "If you go to adispensary and get free medicine you swallow it like water. But when aregular doctor prescribes it in this fashion you won't touch it. Now Iam going to give you your draught at once."
The girl made no protest. Apparently she was ready to do anything todetain Beatrice by her side. She accepted the glass and swallowed thecontents. A moment or two later she closed her eyes and in five minuteswas fast asleep. As the medicine was a sleeping draught Annette wouldnot wake before morning. Closing the door behind her Beatrice creptback to her room, looking fitfully over her shoulder as she walkedalong. She had caught something of Annette's nameless dread, though shestrove to argue with herself about its absurdity. She glanced over thebalustrade and noted the lights in the hall below. Seemingly herguardian had not retired. She found herself wondering if Wilfrid Mercerwas still in the house. At any rate, it was pleasant to think there washelp downstairs if necessary.
"I'll go to bed," Beatrice resolved. "I dare say I shall have forgottenthis nonsense by the morning. That is the worst of an old house likethis; these gloomy shadows appeal so to the imagination."
Nevertheless, Beatrice dawdled irresolutely before the fire. As yet shehad not closed the door. She would go out presently and see that her dogwas in his accustomed place. Usually he was as good as half-a-dozenguardians.
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nbsp; As Beatrice stood there she began to be conscious that the room wasbecoming filled with a peculiar, sweet odour, the like of which she hadnever smelt before. Perhaps it came from her flowers. She would go andsee. She stepped out in the darkness and paused half hesitating.