‘Before I was married? Knowing this, you let me marry–’
‘If you ask me,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘I think you’ve made a very good match.’
‘Madam,’ insisted Below, ‘I am involved in these matters.’
‘Up to the neck,’ said his mistress. ‘If you remember–’
‘You have paid my poverty, madam, but not my will. Be that as it may, I am most deeply involved: and I have a right to be told what I may expect.’
A changed Below had spoken: his dignity was compelling: his voice rang out clean and strong. His mistress started and stared – and for once a prelate stared back.
So for a long moment, while Gaston and Acorn watched. Then Vanity Fair bowed, and her chaplain bowed in return. Deep had called unto deep – and had been answered.
Vanity Fair was speaking.
‘Chandos came here to find out as much as he could. I suspected him from the first, but I held my hand. With the unhappy result that he did find out – quite a lot. How much, I am not quite certain: but from what he said this morning, he seemed very well informed. After three days he left here, and six nights later he carried my daughter off. That would have been enough for most men, but Chandos saw fit to come back – no doubt, to find out still more. But I was ready then, and I got him down. In a word, I’d pulled everything round. And then, while my back was turned, his colleague stepped out of the shadows and helped him up.’
‘His colleague,’ said Acorn, staring.
‘His colleague,’ said Vanity Fair. ‘I didn’t know he had one, till noon today – when John Wright never turned up.’
Acorn was half out of his seat.
‘Wright?’ he cried. ‘Wright?’
Vanity Fair nodded.
‘Explains such a lot, doesn’t it? Jean’s failure…the forged letter sent to Lafone…Chandos’ escape. But those are details. Wright’s was the brain that conceived and directed matters from first to last. What beat me all ends up was how such a fool as Chandos could do what he did.’
‘Well, I’m damned,’ said Acorn.
He filled his glass with brandy, and tossed it off.
‘If you please,’ said Below, and stretched out a trembling hand. The bottle passed.
Gaston said and did nothing. The man seemed sunk in despair.
There was a little silence.
Then Below cleared his throat.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘you have said that you cannot be sure; but how much do you think that they know?’
‘More than enough. Lafone was arrested for murder – this morning at seven o’clock.’
That this was no news to Acorn was very plain, for the man sat perfectly still with his eyes on the board: but the others made no secret of their distress. Below was breathing most hard and beating his breast, while Gaston rocked in his stall, with his head in his hands.
‘God shut her mouth,’ he kept wailing. ‘God shut her mouth.’
Vanity Fair regarded him.
‘What God,’ she said, ‘are you delighting to honour?’
Gaston made no reply.
‘If it’s the God of your fathers, then Father Below would be the appropriate channel for such an appeal. I say “would be”. Perhaps I should say “would have been”. I am honestly happy to inform you that your request has already been treated as it deserves…
‘Lafone was being taken to Gobbo – some weary miles. On the way, by the merest chance, she and her zealous escort overtook Marc. Now Marc was there because Marc had failed in his duty. Lafone knew this – and the sight of him sent her mad. There and then she let him have it – in front of the police.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what she said, but of course they arrested Marc.’
‘My God,’ said Below.
‘And Marc,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘has opened his mouth.’ The priest let out a whoop of dismay: tremulous fingers to lip, he gazed at his dispassionate mistress with starting eyes.
‘How much does he know?’ he quavered.
‘Quite enough to set the police thinking,’ said Vanity Fair.
Gaston burst into tears.
‘It is not fair,’ he blubbered, and banged his head on the board. ‘What wrong ’ave I done? Because I ’ave try to ’elp you, because I ’ave kept your secrets which I ’ave not want to be told…’
In a ghastly welter of sobbing the rest of the sentence was lost.
The others regarded the creature with what, I suppose, was surprise.
Then, as though ashamed of their manhood, the men averted their gaze. But Vanity Fair looked on.
Her voice cut through the lament with the crack of a whip.
‘Is this repentance?’ she said.
Buoyed by God knows what hope, Gaston lifted a shocking visage and swore at some length that it was.
‘Then,’ said Vanity Fair, ‘there is joy in heaven. I imagine that the joy is restrained, but joy there is. Let that be your consolation. You’re some way from heaven, of course, and soon you’ll be further still: but–’
‘No, no,’ screamed Gaston.
Vanity Fair sighed. Then–
‘Pass him the brandy,’ she said. ‘I’m not through yet.’
Before this sinister statement, Gaston appeared to collapse. At least, for two or three minutes he made no sound but sat in his stall like a dummy, with his arms hanging down by his sides and his chin on his chest.
Vanity Fair picked up the thread of her tale.
‘Well, the police telephoned from Gobbo about eleven o’clock, and I sent Acorn over to see how the wind was setting and do what he could. Somehow he managed to bluff them – to hold them off. I don’t know how he did it: I don’t think he knows himself. But they won’t be here till tomorrow, and he said I was away from Jezreel…
‘Now Acorn did his best, but, of course, it’s a great mistake to lie to the police. I mean, tell an obvious lie. Because, when they find it out, your credit is gone. Acorn should never have said that I was away from Jezreel: for now, the moment they see me, the police will know that he lied. And that would be fatal. I have therefore, no choice but to bear his statement out… And so, by the time the police come, I shall be “away from Jezreel”.’
Even Gaston looked up at that, and for twenty seconds or more the three men stared at the woman, with open mouths.
Then –
‘And what about us?’ said Acorn.
‘Exactly,’ said Vanity Fair. ‘What about you? That was what worried me. I gave it much anxious thought. And in the end I decided that in your own interests, and mine, it was better that you should – go.’
Now whether it was her inflexion, I do not know, but I think that the word rang strangely in all our ears. I know that it did in mine. There was something – not quite natural about it…something faintly suggestive of a pregnancy, unobtrusive, yet well advanced…
Mansel’s words came into my mind – It’s too late. It can’t be helped.
I think the hair rose upon my head.
The three men sat still as death, with their eyes upon Vanity Fair. And she sat as still as they, with her head against the back of her stall and her eyes on the blaze of one of the chandeliers.
Below seemed to break the spell.
Shining red in the face, he shifted, to slew himself round in his stall. But though he opened his mouth, it was Acorn that asked the question which hung on his lips.
‘Go? Where shall we go?’
‘That’s not for me to say,’ said Vanity Fair.
Gaston’s breath was rattling. White as a sheet, he started up out of his stall, but his legs gave way beneath him and down he went on his knees between his stall and the table, to which he clung.
The others observed him in silence – Acorn, with his hands to his knee.
Below returned to his mistress.
‘Your words are equivocal, madam. I can hardly believe… And yet, his legs have failed him – and mine are dead.’
There was a dreadful silence.
Then –
‘That’s the effect of the poison,’ said Vanity Fair.
Though I cannot be sure, I believe that her saying killed Gaston. Be that as it may, the fellow mewed like a cat – a very shocking noise on the lips of a man – and then slipped down from the table and out of sight.
The chaplain lifted his voice.
‘Madam,’ he said, ‘in thirty-three years I have much to thank you for. May God Almighty have mercy upon your soul.’
With that, he seemed to withdraw, for he laid his hands together and lowered his eyes, and I do not think he knew what came after, because his attention was gone.
Acorn glanced at his watch. Then he folded his arms and looked at Vanity Fair.
‘The brandy, of course,’ he said.
His mistress nodded.
‘I might have guessed,’ he said. ‘To tell you the truth, it did just enter my head. And then…I couldn’t believe that you’d do me in.’
Vanity Fair sighed.
‘Sorry, Acorn,’ she said, ‘but I know you too well. When it came to the pitch, you’d have turned King’s Evidence, Acorn, and let me down.’
Acorn threw back his head and laughed loud and long.
Then he leaned forward.
‘You’re devilish shrewd,’ he said. ‘That’s just what I’ve done.’
The woman sat as though frozen, staring ahead down the table to Gaston’s empty stall. And Acorn stayed still, as he was, leaning upon the table and smiling into her face. And while they were sitting in silence, I heard a knock fall upon the door.
Vanity Fair shivered.
‘I see,’ she said very slowly. And then, ‘Is this them?’
Acorn sat back in his stall.
‘I imagine so,’ he said. ‘They said they’d be round tonight.’
Vanity Fair nodded.
Again someone knocked upon the door – this time with less discretion.
Vanity Fair sat forward, finger to lip. Then she left her stall and, passing behind Below, picked up the bottle of brandy which stood on his left.
As she returned to her place, the knocking broke out again. It was loud and insistent now, and I heard the murmur of voices beyond the doors. As she regained her seat, a handle was turned – in vain. The doors had been locked.
Vanity Fair filled her glass – there was just enough brandy left. I can see her now, with the bottle reversed in her hand and her head on one side, regarding the winking crystal brimming with gold.
Then she turned to Acorn – and raised her glass. ‘The trouble is,’ she said lightly, ‘we know one another too well.’
As the brandy went up to her lips, Mansel touched my arm and turned to the stair.
‘By God, she’s game,’ I murmured, with my eyes on Vanity Fair.
‘Come,’ said Mansel. ‘We shouldn’t have stayed so long.’
When I turned to follow him down, Acorn had drawn out his case and seemed to be asking his mistress for her permission to smoke: and she was sitting back, smiling, with the empty glass before her and a napkin up to her lips.
Mansel led us the way we had come.
The lobby and stairs were empty – to my surprise: but the instant we gained the first floor, we knew the truth.
Vanity Fair’s apartments were on fire.
‘Good God,’ said Mansel. And then, ‘We can’t let them burn.’
We pelted back to the lobby, but as we thrust into the hall, I heard the crash of woodwork and saw the sergeant-footman burst into the dining-room. Two other servants were with him: and since three were more than enough, we turned again and ran for the stable-yard.
No one saw us, for no one was left to see. At the first alarm of fire the rest of the staff had fled.
We passed by way of the meadows, skirting the seething village until we came to the path which would lead us down to the Rolls. It was as we were using this, that a car stormed up the zigzag, taking the bends so fast that its tires cried out.
‘The police,’ said Mansel. ‘They’ve come by way of the pass and they’ve seen the fire. And that’s as well. If they hadn’t been in a hurry, they might have stopped to have a look at the Rolls.’
Had they done so, they would have found Virginia asleep, with the chambermaid’s arm about her and her feet wrapped up in her apron against the cold.
Without a word I took my seat by her side…
Ten minutes later, perhaps, we stopped by the lonely stable and made our way up to the loft from which Carson had watched Jezreel.
The flames had spread now, nearly half the castle was well alight, but the fire was still fiercest about the roof of the tower which stood up like some monstrous stake set up for the burning of some Titan, whose body might have been there.
Had any attempt been made to prevent the flames from spreading I am perfectly sure that this would have met with success, for there was plenty of water and there were plenty of hands: but I afterwards learned that, because it was nobody’s business, nothing whatever was done to fight the fire, but a good many books were carried out of the library and laid on the sopping grass of the meadows south of the house. And there they were left to rot, as they very soon did.
That there perished so many treasures, which might so well have been saved, will always seem dreadful to me: but they had been heaped together by Vanity Fair, and I think that perhaps for that reason they were accursed.
For a quarter of an hour we watched the spectacle, but though it was very striking and the blaze in its frame of black mountains filled the eye, I think that all three of our minds were still full of that other scene which we had lately witnessed – as now, unobserved and in silence, and, as now, from the mouth of a loft.
Then we went down to the car, and drove to the thicket where I had left Jenny and Bell…
And there Mansel set me down.
‘I’m not coming in,’ he said, smiling. ‘For one thing we’re late enough: for another, I’m not prepared to be cross-examined tonight: but what is far more important is that the two Virginias should be kept apart until we know where we are. I’m going straight to Bordeaux – to put my Virginia into a nursing-home. And you’ll take yours to Anise, where I shall join you tomorrow, about midday. And now go in and find her. If everything’s quite all right, tell Bell to switch on your lights. I won’t go till I see them come on.’
I did as he said.
Five minutes later, with Jenny sitting beside me and Bell behind, I swung my car out of the thicket and on to the open road.
Some eighteen hours had gone by, and Mansel and I were taking our ease in the meadow where, six weeks before, he had told me that I was to visit a castle, which went by the name of Jezreel, and there be the guest of a woman, whose nickname was Vanity Fair.
Nothing was changed.
The stream was as lazy, the shadows of the poplars were taking their handsome order, the woodland was smiling as ever and the comfortable murmurs of the country neighboured the sleepy silence that ruled our council-room.
Bunyan’s words came into my mind. So I awoke, and behold, it was a Dream.
And so, indeed, I might have believed our Progress, if my head had not been still tender and my hands still sore from the payment I made to Marc.
Mansel lay silent so long that I had thought he had fallen asleep, for though he had slept at Bordeaux, he must still have been very tired; but at length he lifted his head, propped himself on an elbow and felt for a pipe.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I’ve not a great deal to tell you that you haven’t heard already – from the lips of Vanity Fair. Still, for what it’s worth, you shall have what news there is left.
‘You were to rescue Jenny: and I was to find Virginia and pull her out. In fact, you did my job, as well as your own: but that was because I was hoist with my own petard.
‘Well, I was always sure that mine was a waiting job. And so it was. Virginia was in the tower, under lock and key. I couldn’t reduce the door and I didn’t know who had the key. I was pretty sure it was Acorn: but
since I couldn’t be sure I didn’t dare hold him up. The only thing to do was to wait and watch. You see the point. Once I knew where the key was, I could do as I pleased – I’d a gun in my pocket and nobody knew I was there. But I had to be sure where it was, before I moved.
‘I expected they’d take her some breakfast: but nobody did. And no one had been to see her when Vanity Fair returned. I heard her return – I was waiting for the sound of her car. And I entered that cursed chair as she was coming upstairs.
‘You see, it was daylight now – when I could be seen: so I simply had to take cover – cover from view. The system, of course, was useless, for I had to see and hear: and the tower was out of the question – you might as well try and lie low on a bagatelle-board. But the chair was simply ideal. Bang on the spot – in the very holy of holies. I’d have laid a coach to a cornflake that before I’d been there five minutes I should know what I wanted to know.
‘In fact, I knew it in one, for Acorn came into the room with Vanity Fair.
‘“Got the keys all right?” says she.
‘Acorn tapped his pocket.
‘“Where did you put them last night?”
‘“In the pocket of my pyjamas. Why do you ask?”
‘“Curiosity pure and simple,” says Vanity Fair. “Just run up and see they’re all right, while I wash my hands.”
‘Well, there was my chance. I’d only to follow Acorn, lay him out and take Virginia away. As they left the room, I made to get out of that chair…’
As though the memory tired him, he put a hand to his eyes.
‘I’ve only myself to blame, but you saw the dummy handles inside – to pull the doors to. I’d never dreamed they were false. Never mind. Let’s skip that bit. I stayed where I was.
‘I imagine that you can imagine Acorn’s return… Vanity Fair let him wallow. And when he was out of breath –
‘“You needn’t worry,” she said. “Chandos is out of reach. I’ve really only just left him. He said he hadn’t killed Marc – I don’t know why. But he’s got Virginia all right – my daughter, Virginia Brooch.”
‘Acorn maintained that you were the devil himself. And his mistress shrugged her shoulders and asked him what he advised.
‘“Not that I value your opinion, but I want to see what it’s worth.”
She Fell Among Thieves Page 24
