‘It might have been some distance away,’ said Mr Hope. ‘Underground vibrations can carry for many miles.’
‘Yes, we must hope so,’ said Mr Honeyacre. He was about to close the door, but something, perhaps a sense of some change in the air, made him stop and look again.
The noise was quite gentle when they first heard it, a soft rumble, not as loud as thunder, more like the snores of a mythical giant. Then the ground seemed to come to life: it appeared to be breathing, its surface rising and falling, sighing and protesting. A moment or so later it gave a sudden shiver and began to move. Grassy outcrops bent and slid away. A river of mud and stones formed, widening as it went, spreading its fingers down towards the graveyard. The noise deepened and intensified. Rocks battered against rocks in a primitive percussion. The old steps leading down to the church lost their grip on the earth beneath and slithered downwards, carried by the dark tide. The gravelled carriage approach bubbled like a pot of porridge and the half constructed fountain keeled over, its walled surround breaking apart. Mina half expected the new terrace and its stairs to follow, but they held, if precariously, the lower slabs projecting into empty space and coming to rest at a tilt. At last, all was still again and they gazed out at the ruin of the land. The only sound was Little Scrap barking and barking as if his lungs would burst.
Mr Honeyacre gave little moan and staggered, looking as though he would faint. Dr Hamid took a grip on his arm, assisted him back to the drawing room, settled him before the fire and then snapped out orders that he was to be watched. Kitty went to sit with him while Dr Hamid went to fetch his medical bag. Mr Malling came running up and Mr Hope ordered him to go outside and investigate the immediately surrounding land and its safety. Mr Malling did not look pleased but he had no choice and obeyed.
The news when it eventually came was not good. Mr Malling reported that the path leading to the church no longer existed. Anyone who thought of going to church ought not to attempt it as there was the danger of starting a new landslip with consequences he hardly liked to suggest. As for the carriage drive, the part immediately outside the house was badly damaged and the portion leading to the main road was partly sunken and underwater, while the rough ground on either side looked unsafe for any mode of travel.
Mr Gillespie had a brief but serious word with Mr Malling, followed by a discussion with Dr Hamid, who was busy applying restoratives to his host.
‘I will speak to Mr Honeyacre when he is recovered,’ Mr Gillespie told the company. ‘However, it is clear that the maids will not be able to return to their homes until the ground is safe and Mr Scarletti and Mr Stevenson will also be obliged to stay. The accommodation arrangements will have to be rethought. I am sure that this will merely be a temporary inconvenience.’
Despite these reassurances, the prevailing atmosphere in Hollow House was one of forced calm concealing incipient hysteria.
They were trapped.
Chapter Twelve
It was only a few minutes before Mr Honeyacre, who was probably thinking more of his guests than himself, insisted that he was restored. He informed Dr Hamid that he required no further attention and proceeded to consult with Mr Gillespie and the Mallings. He then called everyone together in the drawing room, although Nellie did not appear and neither did Kitty, who had gone to sit with her.
Mr Honeyacre’s address was brief and to the point. ‘I regret to say that, for the time being, none of us can leave the house in safety. Naturally, I wish to ensure the greatest comfort and convenience for you all, such as circumstances will allow. Inevitably, some changes will have to be made to the accommodation and this is what Mr Gillespie advises. Mary Ann and Susan will sleep in the kitchen. Mr Scarletti, it will be necessary for you to share a room with Dr Hamid. If Lord Hope is agreeable, he may share his room with Mr Beckler. That will leave a room in the west wing for Mr Stevenson. I hope no one has any objections to this?’
No one wished to add to Mr Honeyacre’s woes by expressing any dissent and it was with noticeable relief that Mr Honeyacre gave orders for the new arrangements to be made before bedtime.
Mina had decided to call on Nellie and apprise her of the news when she was accosted by Mr Beckler, who pursued her up the stairs with his long strides, adopting a place several steps down so they were more on a level for conversation.
‘A word, Miss Scarletti, if you would be so kind?’
Since she could not outpace him she was obliged to stop and turn to face him.
‘We are destined to be in each other’s company a little longer,’ he observed with a flicker of his eyebrows.
‘Not necessarily,’ said Mina, brusquely. ‘The house is a large one.’
‘But I was so looking forward to your telling me all about Brighton,’ he persisted. ‘I have heard it is a healthful place to live and the light is particularly good for photography.’
‘That is the case,’ she admitted.
He leaned forward to be nearer to her face, clasping his hands together as if in supplication, his long narrow body writhing in anticipation. ‘If I was to pay a visit, do I have your permission to call on you?’
‘I do not accept calls from young gentlemen.’
His lips made a moue of comical distress. ‘Then there must be many disappointed young gentlemen in Brighton.’
She abandoned politeness and spoke sharply. ‘Mr Beckler, please desist. What you believe to be flattery I find insulting. I do not wish to be photographed and I will not receive your visits.’
‘Might I not hope to know you better?’ he pleaded.
‘No. I am not as foolish as you seem to think. I will be blunt. I have seen through your plan.’
He paused and made a sharp intake of breath. ‘You have?’
‘Yes. It is too simple for words. If you want customers for your business then place an advertisement in a newspaper.’
She turned and continued on her way, but had hardly taken three steps before sounds of distress began to echo through the house. It was a wild sobbing, distant and yet uncomfortably piercing as it rose in pitch. Mina paused to try and determine its origin and then Zillah came rushing down the stairs looking unusually distracted.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ asked Mina.
‘It’s Mrs Honeyacre. Her poor Little Scrap is missing. She was playing with him only a few minutes ago, but in all the excitement he ran away and now he is nowhere to be found. He is so small that he could have slipped outside when the front door was open without anyone being the wiser and she has convinced herself that he is out there and was buried in the landslip. Miss Pet is with her now.’
Several others had now arrived in the hallway and heard Zillah’s news. ‘She will be inconsolable unless he is found unharmed,’ said Mr Honeyacre. ‘I will ask Malling to go outside and look, but I am sure that if he had seen any sign of him when he was out there earlier he would have said.’ He grimaced. ‘Such a little creature would not do well in the present conditions.’
‘I suggest that we all search thoroughly indoors first,’ said Mina. ‘And as quietly as possible, so we may hear him if he moves or barks. Perhaps someone could fetch a biscuit to tempt him.’
‘I have one,’ said Zillah, patting the pocket of her apron.
Mr Hope joined the conference and, on learning what the matter was, instantly placed himself at the head of the expedition, allocating to all concerned the places where they should go. He, Mr Beckler, Richard, Mina and Mr Honeyacre were assigned to search the ground floor. Mr Stevenson, Dr Hamid, Mr Gillespie and Mrs Blunt, the lower floor. The Mallings were assigned to the servants’ rooms, Zillah and the maids to the first floor bedrooms. Much as everyone found Mr Hope’s assumption of command insensitive when in the presence of his host they all departed to their stations without argument.
The sound resulting from numerous persons all talking and walking about the house at once was, thought Mina, enough to raise an army of spectres had there been any to raise, although it was not sufficient to conceal
the wails of Kitty’s mounting anguish which rang through the house like the cry of a banshee. If nothing else it served to spur on their efforts.
Mina was just emerging from the library after failing to locate Little Scrap when she saw Zillah hurrying down the stairs into the hallway. ‘Oh, Miss Scarletti, I think I know where the poor little puppy dog is, only I dare not go there! I think he is up on the top floor and he may have got trapped.’
‘Show me,’ said Mina. She ascended the staircase with Zillah offering a helping hand and at the bottom of the second flight paused and listened carefully. It was hard to be certain but she thought, in the brief moments when Kitty paused for breath, that she could detect a faint whining sound from above. ‘I think you are correct.’ Mary Ann and Susan were nearby, watching anxiously, neither looking willing to risk a climb to the upper floor. Mina turned to them. ‘Go and fetch Dr Hamid and Mr Malling. I am sure they will know what to do.’ The maids departed quickly. ‘You were right not to attempt the stairs,’ Mina told Zillah, as Kitty’s cries rent the air once more. They both winced and covered their ears.
Mina would have preferred only her two suggested additions to the party, but when, soon afterwards, Dr Hamid appeared, Mr Hope and Mr Beckler were with him.
‘I would advise caution,’ said Dr Hamid, ‘the floorboards are half rotten.’ But Mr Hope, his appetite for peril seriously whetted, only laughed.
‘Have no fear,’ he said confidently, puffing out his chest, as Mr Honeyacre arrived on the scene, ‘I have tackled far worse hazards than this. Leave it to me; the little dog will be saved.’ Mr Hope threw back the guard rope with a flourish and began to climb.
Mr Malling arrived and stared up at the ascending figure. ‘Take care, my Lord!’ he exclaimed, but made no attempt to follow.
There was no stopping Mr Hope in his quest for glory. He was, mused Mina, a man to whom no challenge was too much for him to attempt, which was what made so many people think him a hero and a few to whisper that he was a fool heedless of his own danger. He was also, she thought as he disappeared around the curve of the stairs onto the upper landing, a great manipulator. Mr Hope was currently in conflict with Mr Honeyacre, who was determined to protect his wife from further distress by flatly prohibiting the holding of a second séance. The bold explorer was prepared to use every means at his disposal to ensure that his wishes were complied with. What better inducement could there possibly be than becoming the saviour of Mrs Honeyacre’s prized puppy?
‘Aha!’ came a triumphant exclamation from above. ‘I see the little fellow and he is safe and unharmed! I shall bring him down.’ There was a creaking of floorboards in loud protest against the weight of the substantial Mr Hope. Mina smiled to herself. Sometimes, she thought, being small and light was an advantage. The next moment there was a sharp cry and a grinding noise then another cry. A little way down the corridor they heard another sound, a cracking, splitting noise, like a series of little explosions. All eyes were drawn to the source and, glancing upwards, they saw that the ceiling plaster in the corridor was bulging and fissures were opening.
‘Oh my word!’ cried Mr Honeyacre and some impulse made him run to see what was occurring, but Dr Hamid seized him by the arm and pulled him back.
Flakes of plaster began to tumble into the hallway, followed by larger fragments, until a hole opened up in the ceiling through which there descended a booted foot. The foot wriggled energetically, but only succeeded in bringing down more plaster. They could hear Mr Hope grunting as he attempted to extricate himself and a soft growl of protest from Little Scrap.
Everyone stared up at the curious spectacle of the disembodied foot.
‘That is not a sight one sees every day,’ Mina observed.
‘Should we not try to assist Mr Hope?’ enquired Mr Honeyacre. There was no note of urgency in his voice.
‘He has not asked for any assistance,’ said Mina.
‘That is very true,’ Mr Honeyacre agreed. ‘I think he is the kind of man who would prefer to save himself.’
‘I fear,’ said Dr Hamid, ‘that any further weight on the area could bring the ceiling down.’
‘I agree, sir,’ said Mr Malling. ‘I wouldn’t like to risk it.’
‘I — er,’ began Mr Beckler, looking from one observer to the other in some confusion, ‘I think I should go and see what is happening.’
He approached the stairs, but before he could climb them there was a scuffling sound and Little Scrap, his fur coated in dust, bounded down with a prize firmly grasped between his teeth.
‘Oh, my word, what is it you have there?’ exclaimed Mr Honeyacre, scooping up the little dog.
Dr Hamid went to examine what Little Scrap was guarding. ‘It’s hard to see,’ he said. ‘It looks like —’
Zillah came up and offered the recalcitrant animal a fragment of biscuit and so persuaded Little Scrap to let go of his less appetising morsel.
Dr Hamid examined it. ‘It is a bone,’ he said. ‘And, unless I am very much mistaken, it is human.’
Zillah took Little Scrap away to be washed and reunited with his mistress, while the others joined Dr Hamid in contemplating the discovery.
‘A clavicle, I think,’ he said. ‘A collar bone.’
‘Man or woman?’ asked Mr Honeyacre.
‘It’s hard to determine. An adult, certainly.’
There was a soft cough. ‘Excuse me,’ said Mr Beckler, ‘but I feel someone should see if we can rescue Mr Hope. I have ventured as far as the top of the stairs and can see his difficulty. He is, I believe, unhurt, but if I went any further I fear that I would find myself in a similar predicament. And there is a danger of the whole ceiling coming down.’
Mina thought it a great shame that Mr Beckler did not have his camera with him, or he might have been able to take a photograph of Mr Hope in his unusual position. She would certainly have purchased a copy.
‘Oh, yes, of course,’ said Mr Honeyacre. ‘The whole celling — we must do something at once!’ They glanced back at the foot, which made further efforts to withdraw, resulting only in a shower of plaster fragments. ‘But I am not sure what is for the best.’
‘I’ll fetch some boards,’ said Mr Malling. ‘I kept the ones the builders used when they repaired the roof and they should be just the thing. If we lay them across the floor we may be able to reach Lord Hope safely and assist him.’
‘That is an excellent plan!’ said Mr Honeyacre. He moved cautiously a few steps down the corridor. ‘Have no fear, my Lord, help is at hand,’ he called up to the protruding foot. ‘Please try and keep still and we will send someone up for you.’
There was an irritated grunting from above, but the foot did stop wriggling.
‘There was something else I saw while I was up there,’ said Mr Beckler, ‘something lying underneath the broken floorboards. That bone is not the only one. I saw it clearly. It was a skull. A human skull.’
‘Are you certain?’ asked Dr Hamid.
‘Oh yes,’ said Mr Beckler with a little smirk and an undisguised gleam in his eyes.
It was not long before the boards were brought and it was decided that the rescue party should consist of Dr Hamid, Mr Malling and Mr Beckler. Mina looked about to see if she could find Richard, but he was nowhere to be seen. She decided to say nothing. If she did not draw attention to her brother’s absence half the party would be prepared to swear in a court of law that he had been there.
Since Kitty’s cries had now stopped it was to be assumed that she had been reunited with her darling, a circumstance for which they were all profoundly grateful.
Mrs Malling arrived with the maids, inspected the carpet with a severe expression and ordered that once the danger was past dust sheets should be fetched from the storeroom to be laid down in case of a further snowy deluge.
At last, Richard arrived with Mr Stevenson shadowing him close behind. Mina hoped and assumed that Nellie was staying in her bedroom with her headache and unlikely to join the throng.
&
nbsp; Once a plan had been devised the rescue party, resembling a team of Alpinists making an attempt on the Matterhorn, began very cautiously to climb the creaking stairs, carrying the boards and a lantern.
Their efforts were clearly heard from below with much annoyed exclamations from Mr Hope, during which there was a further fall of plaster dust and then large flakes. The general anxiety concerning the fate of the ceiling and the carpet was palpable. After a few minutes, and to the great interest of the watchers, the booted leg was able to ascend and it finally disappeared from sight like a celestial vision rising up into the clouds.
Soon afterwards, Mr Hope, his trousers torn and covered in dirt, appeared at the top of the stairs to muted exclamations of approval and made his way down. ‘Do not fear, I am quite unharmed,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Please tell me that Mrs Honeyacre’s charming little dog is now with his mistress and that her distress is at an end?’ He looked meaningfully at Mr Honeyacre as he said so and then cast an eye over the rest of the party in case anyone needed reminding of the event that had prompted his heroism.
‘I am grateful to you, of course,’ said Mr Honeyacre.
Mr Malling descended the stairs. ‘I am sorry to say it, sir, but there appears to be a skeleton under the floorboards. Dr Hamid says it is definitely human.’
‘And now I feel sure that we have a vital clue as to the identity of the spirit that haunts this place,’ said Mr Hope. ‘We must recover the bones and see what Dr Hamid can make of them.’
‘I’ll fetch a vegetable box from the kitchen to put them in,’ said Mr Malling.
Mr Honeyacre, for whom one nightmare appeared to follow the other, nodded and waved a weak hand. ‘Yes, Malling, an excellent plan, see to it at once.’
Zillah returned with the news that Little Scrap was being bathed and scented and was no worse for his adventure and Mrs Honeyacre was therefore very much improved and, in a short while, would be strong enough to see her friends.
‘Might I implore you all,’ pleaded Mr Honeyacre, ‘when you see her, make no mention of the recent discovery.’
The Ghost of Hollow House (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 4) Page 20
