As she moved to my side –
‘Virginia, I’m going now. Try and sleep, and mind you play up in the morning for all you’re worth.’
A groping hand brushed my face and came down to my arm.
‘I wish – you weren’t going, Richard. It’s all right with you, but I don’t want to be alone.’
I found and held her fingers.
‘Buck up, Virginia. This is the last of the fences. Early tomorrow morning we’ll be in the straight.’
‘You – you won’t go without me, Richard?’
‘Need you ask me that, Virginia?’
‘I suppose not,’ she said slowly. ‘But you’ve fixed all this on impulse. Supposing tomorrow morning you change your mind.’
‘I shan’t do that,’ I said quietly.
‘It’d be the end of me, Richard.’
‘Now you go to bed,’ said I, ‘and don’t imagine vain things.’
‘I’ll try not to,’ she faltered. ‘But, you see, you’ve promised me something that seems too good to be true.’ With a sudden movement she caught my hand to her lips. Then, ‘Good night, my dear, and God bless you – all your days.’
‘And you, Virginia. Good night.’
The next instant I was back in the passage and the door of her room was shut.
I listened carefully. Then I went gently back the way we had come. I remember that I counted three doors, so it must have been close to that which gave to my room that someone who knew how to hit put me down and out.
When at last I came to my senses, the daylight was broad. But as I made to start up, an agony flared in my temples to make me forget all else.
Then –
‘Drink this,’ said a voice in French. ‘It will make you well.’
Lafone. I knew her at once. Gaunt and harsh and bitter, she seemed to embody the unkindness of Shakespeare’s winter wind. Charity ill became her. Her grudging manner assured me there was no death in the cup.
With an effort I drank the potion which tasted and smelled of herbs. Then I lay back on my pallet and fell asleep.
I have an idea that I slept for about two hours, but when I awoke the pain in my head was gone. My wits were at my service, for what they were worth.
I found that my head was bandaged, that my temple was very much swollen and tender beyond belief. And I knew that no fist had done that. A life-preserver or truncheon had been employed.
I found that my bed was a pallet, laid in a slight recess in a chamber of stone. I found that I was chained to the wall – chained by the leg. And I found that the chain would allow me to reach a wash-stand which stood between my bed and a window, sunk in the wall. But the window was out of my reach.
I made what toilet I could…
In shape the chamber resembled a very thick slice of cake, and since the window was set in the curving side, I had no doubt that I was lodged in the tower. The window boasted a seat, but except for my bed and the wash-stand the chamber was bare.
Again well out of my reach was a massive door. This was of oak and iron and plainly opened outwards, for the doorway was smaller than the door. Chin-high in the oak was a grill, through which a man, standing outside, could look into the cell. The place was a proper prison and had, of course, been made to that end.
I glanced at my watch.
The hour was a quarter to ten.
At once I remembered Virginia and wondered what she would do. I hoped very much that she would give nothing away. If she kept her head and possessed her soul for a little… After all I could scarcely be held here for more than another few hours. Though Vanity Fair might dare, Mansel would take some action to spoil her game. When he learned of my disappearance – as learn he must – he would guess at once that I was confined in the tower. And he would have me out in a twinkling, cost what it might. And in fact it would cost him nothing, for I had the truth in my hands. Once I was free, we had only to take Virginia and go our ways. Vanity Fair had struck: but though she did not know it, her blow had fallen too late. The game was ours, and what had befallen me now was no more than a hitch.
The clack of wood made me look up.
At once I saw that someone had drawn the shutter that masked the grill: between the bars of the lattice I could see the white of a face.
Then the wards of a heavy lock clashed, and Lafone came into the room.
Without a word she set a small tray beside me, on which were some tea and toast: then she turned to the wash-stand, to empty and wipe the basin and make all clean.
Once she left the room for fresh water, which she drew from some tap outside, but because, I suppose, she knew the length of my chain, she showed no fear of my trying to follow her out. For all that, she did not ignore me, but rather took care to insist that all that she was doing was done in enmity. Had she known what I knew, she could not have been more hostile. Once again it occurred to me that Vanity Fair had a flair for obtaining the very service which she required. Her unconscionable treatment of Jenny would have melted most jailers’ hearts: but this woman was stony-hearted: inhumanity inhabited her face.
Tea and toast was the fare which I would have chosen and I knew, without being told, that this provision was due to Vanity Fair. As her enemy, I was condemned: as her guest, my desires must be honoured up to the hilt. That was her way.
I made an excellent breakfast – and waited for Vanity Fair.
Whilst I waited, I examined my chain. This was of steel. The links were carefully made and looked very strong. They hung from an iron staple, thick as my little finger, sunk in the wall. The cuff about my ankle was of fine steel.
Lafone returned, with bed-linen over her arm. This she laid down on the window-seat. Then she took up the tray and carried it off. It seemed she proposed to come back, for she did not relock the door: but when this was opened again, there was Vanity Fair.
I rose to my feet.
She smiled and nodded and passed to the window-seat.
As she sat down –
‘You know I did warn you,’ she said.
‘Madam,’ said I stiffly, ‘if a guest in my house offends me, I ask him to leave.’
‘With your spoons in his pocket? I think you’d get them back first.’
I raised my eyebrows.
‘At least,’ I said, ‘that’s downright. At least you’ve made a clear charge. And that gives me the right to demand that you call in the police.’
‘Your “demand” is refused.’
I took my seat on the pallet and crossed my legs.
‘Madam,’ said I, ‘I was plainly a fool to come back.’
‘That,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘is indisputable. But you were a much bigger fool to try to stand up to me.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘Let’s get down to facts,’ said I, ‘and leave fancies alone. Last night I heard a sound in the hall outside my room. I rose and went to my door – to find it locked. As a guest, I have a distaste for being locked into my room. I, therefore, left by the passage which Jean, your ex-chauffeur, employed.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that you had seen him come in?’
‘Because I suspected that he visited me by your orders. If I was right, it was idle to tell you how much I knew.’
‘I see. Go on – with your tale.’
‘I found several doors in the passage, and the one which I ventured to open led into Virginia’s room. Her light was burning, but she herself was asleep. I must have made some sound, for whilst I was there she awoke. But she didn’t see me and presently put out her light. When I judged her asleep again, I left her room for the passage, proposing to return to my room: but before I had time to get there, somebody laid me out.’
‘That was Marc,’ said Vanity Fair. ‘He’s a great improvement on Jean.’
I drew in my breath.
‘It seems,’ I said, ‘that my suspicion was just. For some reason best known to yourself you mean me ill. Well, that’s your affair: but–’ I picked up my chain and looked her full in
the eyes ‘ – you can’t do this sort of thing to people like me… Please have me released at once.’
‘And then?’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘I shall leave Jezreel, madam: and I shall never come back.’
‘Taking my spoons with you?’
I sighed.
‘Do I look like a thief?’ I said.
‘No,’ said Vanity Fair. ‘That’s why you’re not dead.’
‘I’m not easily frightened,’ said I.
‘I know. Neither am I. It makes life much easier.’
‘Madam,’ said I, ‘if you suspect me of theft, you have your remedy. You can telephone for the police and give me in charge. Until they arrive – but no longer – you have the right to detain me against my will.’
‘I suspect,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘that you made that up. I do not believe that you know the law of this land. But it sounds common sense.’
There was a little silence.
At length –
‘I suppose you mean,’ said I, ‘that you are not concerned with the law of the land.’
Vanity Fair raised her eyebrows.
‘I would hardly say that. I look on the law as I look on the fire brigade. I should summon the fire brigade – if I couldn’t cope with a fire.’
‘In other words you propose to deal with me yourself.’
‘Don’t you think I’m capable of doing so?’
‘Madam,’ said I, ‘I think you are capable of anything.’
Vanity Fair vouchsafed me a dazzling smile.
‘Good for you, Richard Chandos. You’re perfectly right.’
Strange to say, I smiled back. I simply could not help it. Her personality beat me, as it had done before. Then –
‘In that case, madam, there is little more to be said.’
‘Don’t you want to know what you’re charged with?’
‘You’ve told me I’m charged with theft. Such a charge is so fantastic that its details would worry me, madam. I am not in the mood to listen to fairy-tales. I mean, we both of us know the thing’s absurd. You might as well charge me with murder.’
‘Perhaps I do.’
‘There you are,’ said I.
There was another silence.
Presently –
‘I wish I didn’t like you so much,’ said Vanity Fair.
I touched my chain.
‘Is this a sign of your favour?’
‘Yes.’ Her change of tone made me look up. She proceeded slowly, her grey eyes feeding on mine. ‘In the next room to this the chain is very much shorter. And it ends in a collar – not a cuff. Whoever wears it can neither sit nor lie down.’
It was not a pleasant saying, but her rendering made it hideous. I can only hope that I did not appear to flinch.
‘I see,’ I said. ‘How very – uncomfortable.’
Vanity Fair nodded.
‘That’s the idea,’ she said. ‘But, as I say, I like you: and I’m not at all surprised that Virginia fell flat. Which reminds me – tell me one thing. In view of the confession she made, how could you come back to Jezreel? I mean, it was the way of a cad. And you’re not a cad.’
With a hammering heart, I looked at her very hard.
‘Your secret service,’ I said, ‘is extremely good.’
Vanity Fair was pleased.
‘It might be worse,’ she purred. ‘Why did you come back?’
I made a most desperate effort to keep my head.
‘If you must know,’ said I, ‘I didn’t take her seriously. I simply couldn’t believe that she meant what she said. And so I decided to ignore it.’
‘That’s not like Richard Chandos,’ said Vanity Fair.
‘We all make mistakes,’ said I, somehow.
Quick as a flash –
‘How d’you know you made a mistake?’
‘She told me as much…in the hall…as I entered the house.’
Vanity Fair raised her eyebrows.
‘D’you deny that she came to your bedroom…last night…at a quarter to twelve?’
I opened my eyes.
‘To my bedroom?’
‘That,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘was the phrase I used.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘For all I know,’ said I, ‘she may have come to the door. Perhaps it was she that made the noise that I heard.’
‘She was seen to enter your bedroom,’ said Vanity Fair.
‘Which is why my door was locked. Madam, your secret service is not so good as I thought.’
‘In other words…’
‘Nobody saw Virginia enter my room.’
Vanity Fair nodded.
‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘But I’d love to know why you came back.’
‘I’ve told you I made a mistake. I simply–’
‘I know. I heard you say so. The trouble is – you’re not Gaston. Yet you made the one mistake which no gentleman ever makes.’
There was another silence, which I sought to carry off as well as I could. But the round was Vanity Fair’s: and she knew it as well as I. More than the round – much more…
The writing had been there – on the wall: I can only think that some Fate had bandaged my eyes. I had fretted all the way to Jezreel, because I feared that Virginia would think me a cad. But never once had I seen that Vanity Fair would know that, in view of Virginia’s confession, only some bounden duty could ever have brought me back. The thing was so glaringly obvious… And that is why I think that some Fate had bandaged my eyes – for if I had seen it, I should have turned back to Anise though I was at the gates of Jezreel.
As though she could read my thoughts –
‘I seem to have confirmed your opinion – that you were a fool to come back.’
‘I came at your invitation.’
‘Naturally. If there weren’t any flies, fish wouldn’t rise, would they?’
The contempt in her voice annoyed me.
‘Madam,’ said I, ‘I’ve never been very much good at playing with words.’
‘No one on earth would know it,’ said Vanity Fair.
‘Well, it’s not my forte,’ said I. ‘But that’s neither here nor there. The point is this. You suspect me of theft and murder and God knows what. Because I accept your invitation to repeat my visit to Jezreel, you consider these charges proved. You, therefore, have me laid out and chained to a wall. You decline to go to the police or to let me go. Well, I can only repeat that you cannot do this sort of thing to people like me – with impunity. If I don’t walk out today, when I do walk out, I’m going straight to the police: and if I…never walk out – well, my servant knows where I am…and will know where I was.’
Vanity Fair regarded her elegant hands.
‘Is Chandos also among the prophets?’ she said.
I made no reply, and presently she lifted her eyes.
‘I have,’ she said, ‘an infinite variety of failings. I’m sure you’ll agree with me there. But when I am dead and the tale of my shortcomings is whispered by those who stand by my bier, no one will ever say, “She was improvident.” I look ahead, Mr Chandos: and I never do things by halves.
‘One of my windows commands the stable-yard. At half-past seven this morning I saw some movement below. Marc was there, with your luggage, and under his direction your car was being pushed from its coach-house into the yard. At once I dispatched a servant, to ask what this meant. For this particular mission I chose a talkative maid…
‘Now this was the report which she brought me.
‘Mr Chandos was leaving Jezreel. He had rung for Marc at seven and had told him to pack his things. When this was done, he had given Marc the keys of his car, told him to take them to Wright and ask the latter to bring the Rolls round to the door. As it happened, Wright wasn’t there. He had left, on my business, for Perin, ten minutes before. (He’s an excellent man – John Wright: but I didn’t want him on in this scene.) So Marc, who knows how to drive, was proposing to do Wright’s duty and
drive the Rolls round himself. And so he did. I saw him drive out of the yard.
‘Well, I waited for half an hour. Then I sent for the sergeant-footman and asked him if it was true that Mr Chandos had left. He replied that you had been gone a quarter of an hour. When I seemed incredulous, he declared he had seen you go – that so had all the servants that happened to be about.
‘This was his report – in detail.
‘That just after half-past seven Marc brought your car into the courtyard and went upstairs to your room. That ten minutes later you yourself came down, gave the sergeant-footman two hundred and fifty francs, entered your car in silence and drove away.
‘That was his report – in detail. And you can’t say the man was lying, because he firmly believed he was telling the truth.
‘Now what was the truth? I’ll tell you…
‘Marc is almost exactly your height and build. When he went upstairs to your room, he whipped off his clothes and put on those you were wearing yesterday afternoon. Then he put on your hat and the sun-glasses which you were wearing when you arrived. Then he hid his own clothes in the passage of which you know: and then he went down to your car and drove it away.
‘And there you are,’ she concluded. ‘By nine o’clock this morning the whole of Jezreel was aware that Mr Chandos had gone without taking his leave.’
In the silence which followed her statement I kept my eyes on the floor. To be honest, I dared not look up, lest Vanity Fair should read the utter dismay in my face. She knew that her news would hit me – and hit me hard: but she did not know that it had laid in ruins the smiling prospects I had. Mansel fooled…the game I had won, thrown away… Virginia left in the lurch – to find me the cheapest blackguard that ever let a girl down. I could hear her pitiful sayings – You won’t go without me, Richard?… It’d be the end of me. As for myself, I was now a pawn on the board – a pawn about to be taken and pitched to one side.
With an effort, I pulled myself together. At least I was not yet taken. I could put up a fight, so long as I was still on the board.
‘You don’t stick at much, madam, do you? My clothes, my car–’
‘My spoons,’ said Vanity Fair.
I rose to my feet.
She Fell Among Thieves Page 17
