The Tall Stranger

by D. E. Stevenson

  ‘Yes, wasn’t that a funny name for a donkey? He lived in a wooden shed at the bottom of the garden. He used to come when we called him …’

  Barbie was still talking – talking about Underwoods and Amos, talking about driving Amos to the village in the little cart – when Mrs Jardine came back with the bread and milk.

  ‘I don’t want it. My throat is sore. I can’t eat anything,’ said Bet.

  ‘Och, you’ll need to take something!’ exclaimed Mrs Jardine in dismay.

  ‘I had a sore throat when I was a little girl,’ said Barbie. ‘Aunt Amalie gave me bread and milk and it went down quite easily.’

  ‘No,’ said Bet, turning away her head.

  ‘Let’s pretend I’m the mother-bird,’ said Barbie in desperation. ‘I’m the mother-bird and you’re the bird in the nest. Are you a sparrow or a starling?’

  ‘I’m a cuckoo. I’m in your bed, so I must be a cuckoo.’

  ‘Cuckoos are awfully greedy,’ declared Barbie, shoving a spoonful of bread and milk into the open mouth. ‘Their poor foster-mother has to keep on feeding them all the time – like this –’

  Barbie was not very skilful at the job of feeding her fledgling – any mother-bird would have laughed her to scorn – she found it took all her attention to empty the spoonfuls into the open mouth, but somehow she managed and the food went down. Her attention was so deeply engaged that she did not hear the door opening – and shutting again.

  ‘That was Uncle Henry,’ said Bet. ‘He looked in, and then he went away. Is he angry with me? Is Mummy angry?’

  ‘Nobody is angry,’ replied Barbie. ‘Would you like to see Mummy before you go to sleep?’

  There was no answer. Bet was almost asleep already. Her eyes were closing. ‘Amos,’ she murmured drowsily. ‘Funny name … for a donkey …’

  Barbie looked at her and was comforted, for already the child seemed better and more like her normal self. Her face was not so pinched and there was a trickle of milk from the corner of her mouth. In a few minutes Bet was so deeply asleep that Barbie was able to get up and stretch her cramped limbs without fear of disturbing her.

  Soon after the door opened very softly and Mrs Scott came in. She stood for a little, gazing at her child – and then turned away. Barbie followed her on to the landing and found her leaning against the wall with the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Barbie. ‘Please don’t. She’ll be all right. I’m sure she’ll be all right now.’

  ‘If she is – it will be you,’ said Mrs Scott incoherently. ‘Henry told me. We’d never have thought of the island – she would still be there – Henry told me what you did – and you’ve fed her and put her to sleep! I can’t thank you – I’ve no words! It’s silly to say thank you. There ought to be something else – something that really means something –’

  ‘Don’t,’ said Barbie. She put her arms round Bet’s mother and they stood there together for a few moments in a close embrace.

  Presently Mrs Scott released herself and dried her eyes. ‘Silly to cry,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘I didn’t cry when she was lost. I didn’t feel like crying till I saw her lying there – with a milky mouth – like a sleeping baby. Oh Miss France! But I can’t go on calling you Miss France –’

  ‘What you two idiots need is food,’ said Henry, who had come upstairs to find them. ‘There’s some sort of meal being prepared in the dining-room and Alec is doling out whisky.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ said Barbie. ‘And I can’t leave her.’

  ‘Hungry or not you will eat and drink,’ said Henry firmly. ‘Mrs Jardine will sit with her and call you if she wakes.’

  ‘How can you think of food!’ exclaimed his sister.

  ‘I always want food after a battle. I haven’t seen food since tea-time and it’s getting on for one o’clock. If you would come and eat instead of standing there crying it would be a lot more sensible.’

  Mrs Scott went on down the stairs, but Henry waited for Barbie and took her arm in a firm grasp. She was shaking all over and her legs felt so weak that she could hardly walk.

  ‘I don’t know what’s the matter with me,’ she said.

  ‘Take it easy,’ he replied. ‘You’ll feel better when you’ve had some food. Don’t think about what might have happened to the child. Just think she’s safely in bed and asleep. If we think of “what might have happened” we never get very far. Every time we cross the street we might have been run over …’

  Barbie knew he was talking to calm her nerve – just as she had talked to Bet – but all the same it had the desired effect. His deep voice and the strong grip on her arm steadied her.

  It was after two o’clock in the morning when Barbie crept into bed. Bet stirred and murmured ‘Amos’ and went off to sleep again, breathing regularly and peacefully. It seemed almost incredible that Bet was unharmed by her terrifying experience but no child who was going to develop pneumonia would sleep like that … and the hand which lay on the sheet felt moist and cool. She’s all right, thought Barbie. She really is. It will be Mrs Scott – but I must remember to call her Jennifer – who will be ill tomorrow – if anybody is ill.

  Bet slept peacefully, but for a long time Barbie could not sleep. She was too tired and excited … or perhaps it was that queer meal which they had eaten in the big red dining-room: soup and cold fowl and whisky. Henry had said he always felt hungry after a battle, and she saw what he meant. Her three companions had looked like the survivors of a battle and she herself had a strange dazed sort of feeling as if it were not quite real. The Scotts had thanked her with quite unnecessary gratitude – or so Barbie thought – and they all called her Barbara which added to the feeling of unreality. She was further embarrassed by the necessity of calling companions by their Christian names.

  There had been moments when they all talked at once and laughed in a hectic sort of way, and moments of silence. Colonel Scott had broken a moment’s silence to say, ‘The police were frightfully decent.’

  ‘Did they get a meal or something?’ asked Jennifer vaguely.

  ‘Jardine saw to that,’ said Henry. He paused and then added, ‘She’s a strong little creature.’

  ‘Pneumonia,’ said Jennifer with a little gasp.

  ‘No – honestly,’ said Henry. ‘I wouldn’t worry too much.’

  ‘Does anybody know how it happened?’ asked Colonel Scott.

  Barbie knew. ‘It was Bogle,’ she said.

  ‘But Bogle told Henry –’

  ‘I know – but it was Bogle.’

  ‘Don’t let’s talk about it tonight,’ said Henry quickly. ‘We can sort it all out in the morning. Let’s go to bed.’

  There was one last memory which was in Barbie’s mind when at last she dropped off to sleep. It was the feeling of Henry’s hand beneath her elbow helping her upstairs – and the sound of his voice saying, ‘If you want anything in the night come to me. You know where my room is, don’t you? It’s next the bathroom. If she’s ill or you’re worried don’t waken Jennifer – just tap on my door. I shall wake in a moment.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Barbie was awakened by a slight movement beside her in the bed. She opened her eyes and saw a pair of blue eyes looking at her – a pair of blue eyes in a rosy face.

  ‘I didn’t waken you – honestly,’ said Bet in her normal voice. ‘I was as quiet as a mouse. You wakened yourself. I’ve been awake for hours and hours. When I woke up I thought it was all a dream, but I wouldn’t have been here if it was a dream – so it must have been real.’

  ‘Let’s pretend it was a dream,’ said Barbie yawning.

  ‘Do you think we could?’

  Barbie felt sure that Bet could pretend anything – and said so.

  ‘You mean Rose Anne,’ said Bet doubtfully. ‘But that’s different – and I’m never going to pretend her again. I’m never going to the island again and I’m never going to talk to Bogle again or ask him to do anything.’

  Ba
rbie said she was glad to hear it.

  ‘Will Mummy be angry about my dress?’

  ‘About your dress?’

  ‘It’s all torn,’ explained Bet gravely. ‘I shouldn’t have worn it – I should have worn my shorts. I put on my very best dress to go to the picnic with Rose Anne – and it’s ruined. I don’t believe Mrs Jardine will be able to mend it.’

  Barbie wondered what to say.

  ‘Was it true about Amos?’ asked Bet.

  ‘Yes,’ said Barbie.

  ‘Tell me more about him.’

  ‘Not now,’ said Barbie, yawning again uncontrollably.

  There was a short silence and then Bet said, ‘It’s nearly ten and I haven’t had any breakfast!’ With that she jumped out of bed and made for the door.

  Barbie had intended to keep her in bed, of course, but obviously there was nothing the matter with her. If they kept her in bed she would have more time to think about what had happened, so perhaps it was better not to make a fuss. Barbie herself got up more slowly, she was stiff all over, but when she had had a bath and dressed she felt none the worse. The house seemed very quiet but when she went downstairs she found Jennifer having breakfast in the dining-room.

  They both exclaimed at the same moment. ‘You should have stayed in bed!’

  This coincidence banished the slight embarrassment and made them smile. Neither of them was very hungry; they drank their coffee and talked about Bet.

  ‘She’s a tough little thing,’ said Bet’s mother. ‘I suppose it’s because she runs about all over the place in all weathers – and drinks such quantities of milk. I often feel sorry for children in towns.’

  Barbie thought of Agnes and agreed that children living in towns had a very poor time compared with Bet.

  When Jennifer and Barbie had finished their coffee they went out into the sheltered courtyard and relaxed in deck-chairs. It was a beautiful morning; the sky was blue and the hills looked friendly again … it was almost incredible to think that last night the wind had howled and the rain had fallen in torrents. The only evidence of last night’s storm were twigs and branches which had been wrenched off the trees, and pools of water in the gutters.

  Presently they were joined by the two men who had been out already. Colonel Scott sat down wearily, but Henry looked round the little group with a smile.

  ‘All present and correct,’ said Henry. ‘I’ve just seen your dear little nuisance. She seems on top of the world.’ He added:

  ‘Never was heard such a terrible curse,

  But what gave rise to no little surprise

  Nobody seemed one penny the worse.’

  ‘Nobody – except the jackdaw,’ said Colonel Scott. ‘The jackdaw – you’ll remember – was a good deal the worse.’

  ‘Bogle?’ asked Henry.

  ‘Yes. How did you know?’

  Henry did not answer, and Colonel Scott continued: ‘Bogle went off the deep end last night and fought two policemen who were searching the moor near his cottage; he must have thought they were after him or something. At anyrate he was so violent that they were obliged to arrest him in self-defence. He managed to escape from them and they let him go, but he fell into a peat-bog and broke his leg so they had to bring him down to the hospital. He’s there now, raving like a lunatic. The nurses are terrified to go near him. I saw him for a minute – they thought I might be able to calm him down – but the sight of me made him worse. He’s absolutely round the bend. Dr Fraser says they’ll have to send him to Dumfries.’

  ‘Oh no!’ cried Jennifer. ‘Bogle couldn’t bear it. He likes to be free. He has to be free. You know that, Alec!’

  ‘His leg will have to be properly set and put in plaster.’

  ‘Oh, poor Bogle!’

  ‘Poor Bogle tried to murder your daughter,’ said Henry.

  ‘But that’s nonsense!’ exclaimed Jennifer.

  ‘He took her to the island and left her there in all that storm.’

  ‘He forgot to go back,’ declared Jennifer. ‘Bogle forgets things. You can’t blame him. He’s not like other people and he’s terrified of thunder – I’m sure he forgot all about it.’

  ‘I think Jennifer is right,’ said Colonel Scott.

  ‘Of course I’m right! Bogle is devoted to Bet; he would do anything for her! It’s quite pathetic.’

  Barbie had listened to all this without speaking but now she said: ‘Bet knows something about him – some secret.’

  They all looked at her now: the two Scotts in bewilderment, but Henry with dawning comprehension.

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ asked Jennifer.

  It was difficult to answer. She hesitated.

  ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken Barbara means blackmail,’ said Henry. He chuckled and added, ‘That would account for everything, wouldn’t it? In fact it’s the key to the mystery. Shall we ask Barbara to tell us all about it?’

  ‘But I’ve told you! Bogle has a secret.’

  ‘Which Bet has discovered?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Henry began to laugh uncontrollably.

  ‘How can you laugh!’ exclaimed Jennifer.

  ‘I can’t help it,’ declared Henry. ‘If only you could see – your own faces! It’s all clear now. Bogle got tired of being blackmailed so he marooned his blackmailer.’

  ‘We must ask Bet,’ said Colonel Scott. ‘We must get to the bottom of it.’

  Henry had taken out his handkerchief and was wiping his eyes. He said, ‘If you take my advice you’ll get Barbara to ask her. Barbara has learnt more about Bet in three days than you’ve learnt in seven years. I’ve always told you that you didn’t understand your daughter.’

  There was a stricken look upon Jennifer’s face.

  ‘Oh no,’ cried Barbie. ‘I mean of course I will if you like! I mean children often tell things to strangers – everybody does – I expect you’ve done it yourself.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ said Colonel Scott.

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying so I think Bet is lonely,’ continued Barbie. ‘That’s why she gets into mischief – and – and makes up stories. Hasn’t she got a little cousin – or some child who could come and play with her?’

  ‘We’ve talked about that, often,’ said Colonel Scott. ‘Unfortunately we don’t seem to have any relations or friends with small children. I wish we had.’

  ‘Barbara knows a child,’ said Henry.

  ‘What!’ cried Barbie in surprise.

  ‘That child who lives near you in London,’ explained Henry. ‘Bet told me about her. Wouldn’t she do?’

  ‘Oh no, she wouldn’t do at all.’

  ‘Perhaps her parents wouldn’t let her come?’

  It was not that, of course. Barbie felt certain that Glore would be only too pleased to foist her daughter on to the Scotts for as long as they wanted – or longer – but Agnes would not do. Barbie could not imagine Agnes here, at Oddam Castle. She tried to explain this to the Scotts.

  ‘I don’t see that it matters,’ said Colonel Scott. ‘If she’s the miserable little waif you describe it would do her all the good in the world to come to Oddam. What do you say, Jennifer?’

  Barbie expected Jennifer to say no, quite firmly, but Jennifer said, ‘Poor little creature, we might have her to stay for a bit and see how she gets on.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ said Colonel Scott. ‘We’ll send Jardine to fetch her.’

  Barbie began to laugh hysterically: Agnes was to come; it was settled; they would send Jardine to fetch her.

  ‘What’s funny?’ asked Henry.

  ‘You can’t settle things like that – all in a moment.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Colonel Scott.

  Barbie felt as if she were being pushed into a corner. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said vaguely. ‘There are all sorts of things to be considered. She’s a very quiet child. She hasn’t got much to say for herself …’

  ‘Bet talks enough for half-a-dozen children,’ put in Bet’s uncle.r />
  ‘And her mother is rather awful,’ added Barbie. ‘Mrs Evans might be a nuisance.’

  ‘How could she be a nuisance?’ asked Jennifer.

  For a moment Barbie hesitated – thinking of Glore – and then she realised there was no need to bother about that. If Glore were troublesome Jennifer would brush her off like a fly. And then Barbie thought: no, not like a fly, because a fly returns to buzz and annoy. Jennifer would brush off Glore like an intrusive earwig which scuttles away and hides beneath a stone! Not unkindly but with calm authority Glore would be told exactly what to do (as the wandering bus-driver had been told). Oh no, there was no fear of Glore being a nuisance at Oddam!

  Barbie said doubtfully, ‘I’ll see when I get home. There will be a lot to arrange. Agnes hasn’t got any suitable clothes.’

  ‘She can wear Bet’s clothes, can’t she?’ asked Colonel Scott impatiently. ‘If that’s all the trouble –’

  ‘It isn’t,’ said Barbie hastily. ‘I don’t know – I mean I’m not sure that Bet would like her.’

  ‘Why not ask Bet?’ suggested Henry. He paused and then added, ‘Where is Bet? We haven’t lost her again, have we?’

  Jennifer rose quickly, and was about to hurry away, when Bet was seen approaching across the lawn. She was carrying a basket and was closely followed by a large grey cat.

  ‘There,’ she said, putting the basket on the ground. ‘There are Fluffy’s kittens. I had to go and fetch them from Bogle’s cottage, but you won’t drown them, will you?’

  ‘No, we won’t drown them,’ said Colonel Scott.

  They watched her taking the kittens out of the basket.

  ‘Five!’ exclaimed Jennifer in horrified tones.

  ‘Yes, but she loves them all – and so do I,’ said Bet hastily. ‘Jardine said he would drown them and that’s why I made Bogle take them, but now Bogle is in Hospital so they’ll have to come home. It’s all right, Fluffy,’ she added. ‘They’re all safe and sound. I told you I wouldn’t hurt them, didn’t I?’

  When she had delivered the kittens to their anxious mother she delved into the bottom of the basket and produced a parcel of dirty grey flannel tied up with a piece of cord, and putting it down upon the flagstones unrolled it. The parcel contained a pile of miscellaneous articles which glittered in the sunshine.