The Captive

by Виктория Холт

  “What do you think Simon is doing now?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “Perhaps the ghost is haunting him. Can ghosts travel? I reckon they can go a little way. I wonder where he is. I’d love to know. What’s the matter with you. Cranny?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ever since you came in here, you’ve had a funny look in your eyes.”

  “Nonsense.”

  Then suddenly I thought I heard a movement overhead.

  “The fact is you’re scared. Cranny.” She stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened as they turned towards the stairs. She had heard too. She came closer to me and as I gripped her hand, I heard the creak of a floorboard.

  Kate was dragging on my arm, but I did not move.

  “It’s the ghost,” whispered Kate, and there was real fear in her face.

  I said: “I’m going to look.”

  She shook her head and drew back in alarm.

  For a second or two she stood very still. Then she came to me and I started up the stairs with her following close behind.

  We were on a landing. I could hear deep breathing. So could she. She gripped my hand tightly.

  There were three doors on the landing and all of them were closed. I stood listening. Then again I heard the sound of breathing. I stood very still, listening. Behind the door nearest to me I knew someone was waiting.

  I went to the door and turned the handle. I pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

  A man was standing there-unwashed, unkempt, and there was a pile of rags on the floor with a paper bag beside it. I noticed crumbs on the floor and relief swept over me. This man was human anyway. I did not know what I had expected. Perhaps, like Kate, I feared the ghost of Cosmo. And this was just an old tramp.

  “I be doing no ‘arm,” he said.

  Kate was beside me.

  “It’s Harry Tench,” she said.

  Harry Tench. The name was familiar. I had heard it mentioned in connection with the murder.

  “Who be you?” he demanded.

  “I know who that one be.” He pointed at Kate.

  “And what do ‘ee want ‘ere? I bain’t doing no ‘arm.”

  “No,” I said.

  “No. We just came to look at the farmhouse. We heard a noise and came up.”

  “Nobody comes prying round ‘ere. What ‘arm be I doing?”

  “None, none. I’m sorry we disturbed you.”

  “It was just a place to sleep. Drove out, I was. There’s no ‘arm done.

  Don’tee get no ideas about having me put out. “

  “We haven’t any ideas about doing that,” said Kate, who

  was fast recovering from her fright and was almost herself.

  “We thought you were a ghost.”

  His lips were drawn back in a grin showing yellow teeth.

  “Don’t worry,” I said.

  “Come on, Kate.”

  I took her hand and we went out of the room. I shut the door on Harry Tench and we went downstairs.

  “Come on,” I said.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  As we rode away, Kate said: “You were really scared, Cranny.”

  “Not half as much as you were. You were going to run, remember.”

  She was silent for a while and then went on: “He’s rather brave … sleeping there, in a place where a murder happened. You wouldn’t want to, would you, Cranny?”

  “I would like to be more comfortable than that poor man obviously was.”

  We rode on and after a few moments she said: “Look, there’s Seashell Cottage. That’s where we all used to live.”

  It was a neat little place with a well-kept garden and clean lace curtains at the windows. We rode close enough for me to see that the Seas had been replaced in the shells so that it was now respectable Seashell Cottage. It was difficult to imagine Lady Perrivale living in such a place; and her daughter and father had been with her too.

  I wondered about Kate’s father. Could I ask her? Perhaps at the appropriate moment I could put a few carefully chosen questions. I must remember how shrewd Kate was and be very careful.

  “Come on,” she said.

  “Let’s go and see if Gramps is at home.”

  The Dower House was very different from Seashell Cottage I had seen it in the distance, for it was not very far from Perrivale Court.

  There was a copse between the two and we rode through this.

  It was a charming residence. I imagined it had been built during

  Elizabeth’s reign, for it was definitely of Tudor architecture red brick with latticed windows. Virginia creeper grew on some of the walls and there was a neat lawn before it bordered by flowerbeds.

  We slipped off our horses, tethered them and walked through the gate.

  The house seemed quiet.

  “I bet you he’s in the garden,” said Kate.

  She led the way round the side of the house, past a small orchard, to a walled garden reminiscent of the period, with plants climbing over the red brick wall and beds of what I guessed to be aromatic herbs surrounding a pond, in the centre of which was a small fountain. What struck me most was the aura of absolute peace. A man was sitting on a carved wooden seat close to the pond.

  “Gramps,” cried Kate.

  I was amazed that he looked so young. I realized later that he must have been in his mid-fifties, but he looked ten years younger than that. He was straight-backed, very upright and undoubtedly handsome. I noticed the resemblance to Lady Perrivale and Kate. His hair was similar in colour to theirs but had a little white at the temples and there was a hint of green in his eyes. But, like Kate, he lacked those dark brows and lashes which made Lady Perrivale such a startling beauty. His brows were so light as to be almost invisible, which gave him a look of youthful surprise.

  When he saw us he came striding towards us. Kate flew at him. He picked her up in his arms and swung her round. She laughed gleefully, and I thought with pleasure: Here is someone she really cares about. I was glad to see she was capable of affection.

  “Hey, young Kate,” he said.

  “You’re forgetting your manners. What about an introduction? Don’t tell me. I know, of course …”

  “It’s Cranny,” cried Kate.

  “Rosetta Cranleigh,” I said.

  “Miss Cranleigh. What a delight to meet you. Your fame has spread to the Dower House. My daughter, Lady Perrivale, has already told me of what wonderful work you are doing with our miscreant here. “

  “What’s a miscreant?” demanded Kate.

  “It’s better for you not to know, don’t you agree, Miss Cranleigh? I am so pleased that you have come to visit me.”

  “This,” said Kate, ‘is Major Durrell. Majors are very important, aren’t they, Gramps? “

  “If you say so, my dear,” he said, raising one of those pale eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner in my direction.

  “Now, come and sit down.

  Refreshments? “

  “Oh yes, please,” said Kate.

  “A little wine, eh?”

  “And some of those wine biscuits,” she said.

  “But of course. Look, my dear. You go and tell Mrs. Carne that you’re here and tell her what’s required.”

  “All right,” said Kate.

  As she ran off he turned to me.

  “Mrs. Carne comes in every weekday morning to look after me. She also comes two afternoons a week as a special favour. Fortunately this is one of the afternoons. Apart from that, I look after myself. You learn in the Army. I’m quite a handyman … which saves a lot of trouble.

  Come and sit down. Miss Cranleigh. Don’t you think this is a delightful spot? “

  “Oh, I do indeed. It is so peaceful.”

  “That’s what I feel, and peace is a very desirable acquisition when one reaches my age. You can believe that, I’m sure.”

  “I think it is desirable at any age.”

  “Ah, the young prefer adventure. They want any
excitement no matter what they have to pay for it. I have had my share and now … thank Heaven … I can appreciate peace. I am so pleased you have come to teach my grand daughter and are making such a success of it.”

  “It is too early to say. I have only been with her a short time.”

  “But they are all delighted. There have been so many trials. Poor child, it has not been easy for her. She’s a good little thing … underneath it all, you know. The trouble is you have to find a way to that goodness. She needs understanding.”

  I felt drawn to him. He was clearly fond of her and he was confirming what I had thought of Kate.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “I do agree. One has to find the way to understand her.”

  “You know what I mean … uprooted … stepfather. A child has to adjust herself and with one of Kate’s nature that’s not easy.”

  There was something so frank about him. He was so much easier to talk to than either Kate’s mother or her stepfather could possibly be.

  He went on: “If there are any difficulties at any time … you know, with Kate … I hope you will not hesitate to come to me.”

  “That is good of you,” I said.

  “It is a great comfort to me.”

  He made me feel that we were allies, and it was remarkable that he could have done this in so short a time.

  Kate came out. Mrs. Carne would be bringing out the wine and biscuits soon, she said.

  “Now come and sit comfortably by the pond. There are some new goldfish, Kate. Can you see them?”

  “Oh yes. They’re lovely.”

  “Your gardens are well kept,” I commented.

  “I’m a keen gardener myself. There’s peace in a garden, I always think.”

  How he harped on peace! Well, why not? It was a good state to be in.

  Mrs. Carne came out with the refreshment. She was just as I had imagined her plumpish, rosy-cheeked, middleaged and clearly had an affection for her employer, which did not surprise me. She was protective, admiring and authoritative towards him.

  “There we are. Major, and the biscuits were baked this morning.”

  “Mrs. Came, you are an angel.”

  She bridled.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure, I’m sure.”

  He went on: “This is Miss Cranleigh.”

  There seemed to be no need to explain my reason for being with Kate. I expected Mrs. Came was well aware of all that went on at Perrivale Court.

  She nodded in my direction, and was gone.

  “She’s a good sort,” said the Major.

  “Treats me like a babe in arms sometimes, but I confess I like to be spoiled. So you like my garden?

  I do a lot of it myself . the designing and planting and all.

  There’s a man who comes in every morning and does the mundane jobs.”

  “Have you been here long?”

  “Since my daughter married. The house was a sort of wedding present.

  Unusual, you are thinking, for the father of the bride to be so pampered, but Mirabel couldn’t have her old father living in a little cottage. She made it as though coming to live here was a favour to her. “

  “We saw Seashell Cottage only this afternoon.”

  “It’s quite charming in a way. Not much garden, of course. Not to be compared with the Dower House.”

  “I told Cranny how I took the Seas out of Seashell and made it Hell Cottage.”

  “There you see. Miss Cranleigh, what I have to contend with.”

  “You thought it was funny, you know you did, Gramps.”

  “Well, perhaps I did. What was I saying? Oh, a great improvement on the cottage, and I am very happy to be here.”

  “How comforting it must be to be so contented.”

  “Yes particularly after a rather cheque red career. Army life is no

  bed of roses, believe me. And then I come to this … My daughter happily settled … and my granddaughter now firmly placed on the strait and narrow path with her most excellent governess.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me and I could see the gesture was a habit with him.

  “Gramps has been all over the world,” Kate informed me.

  “He’s been just everywhere.”

  “A mild exaggeration, you will understand. Miss Cranleigh.”

  I smiled.

  “Majors are the most important people in the Army,” went on Kate.

  “My dear granddaughter brushes aside all those generals, field marshals, colonels and the rest who are under the impression that they are the ones.”

  “Well, you were,” she said.

  “Who can be so churlish as to contradict such a loyal supporter? It is true that I have done a bit of travelling. India, Egypt, wherever my duty lay.”

  “Tell us, Gramps,” pleaded Kate.

  Over the wine he talked a great deal. He spoke of his life in India as a young officer.

  “Those were the days … but the climate … uncertainty too. I was too young for the Mutiny … but the feeling was always there.”

  As he talked, Kate kept glancing at me to make sure that I was duly impressed. It was clear that he was a hero to her. He talked of Egypt, the Sudan and India. At length he said: “But I’m talking too much.

  It’s Kate’s fault. She always lures me to talk, don’t you, granddaughter? “

  “I like it,” said Kate.

  “So do you, don’t you. Cranny?”

  “It is quite fascinating,” I said.

  “I’m glad you find it so. I hope it will tempt you to come and visit me again.”

  “I wish I’d been there,” said Kate.

  “Ah. Sometimes things are better to talk about than to live through.”

  “You must miss all this adventure,” I said.

  “I was telling you how much I appreciate the peaceful life. I’ve had enough adventuring. What I want now is to settle down and enjoy the visits of my family … and to know that they are well and happy.”

  “It seems a very noble ambition,” I said.

  “And how the time has flown.

  We must be on our way back, Kate. “

  “Promise you’ll come again.”

  I thanked him and Kate leaped up and flung her arms about his neck. I was astonished by her conduct. She was like a different child. And I was delighted to see this affection between her and her grandfather.

  As we rode home, she said: “Isn’t Gramps wonderful?”

  “He has certainly had a very interesting life.”

  “It’s the most interesting life anyone ever had. Of course, you were shipwrecked … that counts for something. You ought to have told him about it.”

  “Oh, his adventures were far more interesting, I am sure.”

  “Oh yes. But yours are not bad. You can tell him next time.”

  And of course there would be a next time. I was glad of that.

  When I was in bed that night I kept going over that afternoon’s adventure. It had been quite eventful. First Harry Tench and then the Major. Both of those men would have been here at the time of the murder.

  I imagined the Major living in Seashell Cottage with his daughter and granddaughter. I might learn quite a lot from him. A man like that would know what was going on and probably had his own theories.

  I must cultivate the acquaintance of the Major.

  I believed it had been a profitable afternoon.

  The Sailor’s Grave

  The visit to the Major appeared to have been a great success in more ways than one. Kate became more friendly. I had liked the Major and she had made up her mind that the Major liked me; and as he was a hero in her eyes, I rose considerably in her estimation.

  She talked of him freely, telling me of the wonderful adventures he had had, how he had fought battles singlehanded and was solely responsible for the success of the British Empire. Kate could never do or think anything halfheartedly.

  But I was delighted by the growing friendship between us.

  Lesso
ns had become quite painless. It had been a wise stroke to introduce her to books with a good strong narrative. We had almost finished Treasure Island and The Count of Monte Cristo was lying in wait for us.

  I used the books blatantly as a sort of unconscious bribe.

  “Well, I know these sums are a little difficult, but when we get them right, we’ll see what’s going to happen to Ben Gunn.”

  My success with her amazed me as much as everyone else. I was beginning to see that Kate was more than a rebellious girl bent on making trouble. I supposed there were reasons behind everything. And I was determined to discover more about her.

  Through all this I did not forget for one moment the reason why I was here. I wished I could see the Major alone. It would be difficult to ask leading questions in Kate’s presence. She was already a little suspicious because of my intense interest in the murder. I could not call on the Major, of course.

  Perhaps, I told myself, the opportunity would come and when it did I must be ready to seize it.

  I had always known that Kate had an interest in the morbid, so I was not particularly surprised when I discovered what a fascination the graveyard seemed to have for her.

  The church was an ancient one, famed for its Norman architecture. It was not far from Perrivale Court and we often passed it.

  “Just imagine,” I said as we rode up to it.

  “It was built all those years ago … about eight hundred years.”

  We were, as Kate said, ‘doing’ William the Conqueror, and she was getting quite an interest in him since learning of the particular manner in which he had wooed his wife Matilda by beating her in the streets. Such incidents delighted Kate and I found myself stressing them whenever I found them, to stimulate her interest.

  “He built a lot of places here,” she said.

  “Castles and churches and things. And all those people in the graveyard … some of them must have been there for hundreds of years.”

  “Trust you to think of that instead of the beautiful Nor man arches and towers. The church is really interesting.”

  “Let’s go in,” she said.

  We tied up the horses and did so. The hushed atmosphere subdued her a little. We studied the list of vicars which dated back a long way.