Grey Mask

by Patricia Wentworth

  “I did.”

  “My darling idiot!”

  He kissed her.

  “Do you think so now-now-now? Why are you crying-Meg?”

  Margaret hid her face against him.

  “Because I’m so-happy.”

  There was a blessed silence. The cellar, the darkness, the desperate, hopeless state in which they stood, were just the outer shadow which could not touch them. Margaret, at least, was in some joyful place of heart’s desire, the haven which she had longed for and never hoped to see.

  To Charles the shadow was a visible menace. He spoke first:

  “They’ll look for us-they’re bound to look for us.”

  But even at the sound of his own words his heart sank. They might look; but how would they ever find them here?

  “If we’d a light. Do you know how big this place is?”

  “No. I don’t think there’s any way out, or he wouldn’t have left us. But, Charles, they will look for us.”

  “Did anyone know you were coming here?”

  “One of the girls at the shop did. I told her I was going to say good-bye to my stepfather. And-and Archie knew-” She stopped, trying to remember exactly what she had said to Archie.

  “What?”

  “I’m trying to think. I said-yes, I’m sure I only said-I didn’t mention Freddy’s name-I told Archie to go to the police. And he didn’t want to. Did he know about me?”

  “I told him last night. It seems about a hundred years ago. What did you say to him?”

  “I said there was someone who might know where Greta was. Oh, Charles, I wonder where she is?”

  “Is that all you said?”

  “I think so. But if he was to ask at the shop, they might think-”

  “This place is so damnably well hidden.”

  “Charles, I want to tell you-does it make it worse for you to hope? I do think there’s some hope.”

  “Where?”

  To Charles there seemed to be no hope at all.

  “Because-I’ll tell you-you know when I was sitting at the table up there in the study-I was desperate-I felt I must do something after he said that about the cellars. I don’t know if you could see me. I had my arms on the table, and I put my head down and pretended I was crying. I wasn’t crying. I’d seen a pencil, and I got it in my fingers and wrote on a bit of paper. I wrote ‘Cellars-C and M.’ I kept the paper in the palm of my hand. I’d thought what I would do-it was just a chance, but it was the only thing I could think of. All the time he was talking and walking up and down, I was trying to think. And I tore up some little bits of paper quite small and kept them in my other hand. When I went back to the window as if I was frightened- oh, I was frightened-I didn’t have to pretend-I was horribly frightened-because I thought he’d shoot you if he found out-I-”

  “What did you do?” Charles said quickly.

  “I stuck the paper on the glass-on the windowpane. I’d sucked my finger and made it wet, and stuck the paper on the glass-the bit I’d written on. I wasn’t sure if it would stick but it did. It’s only a chance, but if he doesn’t find it, they will.”

  Charles held her tight.

  “It’s behind the blind?”

  “Yes.”

  “He won’t pull up the blind. Why should he? I don’t believe he’ll find it. Archie’s bound to come here. Margaret- darling-darling-darling-I believe you’ve saved us!”

  “I couldn’t think of anything else except-except-I dropped a little bit of paper on the stairs, and here and there on the way down to the basement, and one at the wine-cellar door, and two or three where the packing-cases are hiding this little door. I had to chance his seeing them. But he only had a torch. I thought I was bound to risk it. Do you think-do you really think they’ll find us?”

  A cold revulsion sobered Charles. The hope which had carried him away offered so much. It gave him happiness, love-and Margaret. He was afraid to look at what it offered him.

  “I-don’t-know,” he said.

  CHAPTER XLIV

  Long hours of the night-very long-very dark.

  Charles explored the cellar and found it about twelve feet square. There was no sign of any other opening. He lifted Margaret as high as he could hold her. She could just touch the roof.

  Later he broke her scissors in a vain attempt to dig through the wall into the wine-cellar; the points slid and broke on very hard cement. The door itself would have withstood a battering ram. There was nothing for it but to wait.

  They talked. There was so much to talk about. And then, quite suddenly, Margaret fell asleep with his arm about her and her head against his shoulder. The air was heavy and rather warm; it had the curious smell of underground places where no light ever comes. Presently Charles slept too.

  He awoke with a consuming thirst; and as he moved, Margaret stirred and woke too. Her little cry of surprise cut him to the heart. She had forgotten. Now she must remember and face a black day of dwindling hope. In those night hours Charles had come to think their chance of being discovered a very slender one indeed.

  Margaret said, “I’d forgotten-I was dreaming.” A little shuddering laughter shook her. “It felt so real-a great deal more real than this. I suppose-Charles, I suppose this isn’t the dream?”

  If it were. If they could wake up and be together in the light. Charles put his face against hers.

  “What did you dream, Meg?”

  “I don’t know-it’s gone. It was something-happy. You were there. We were frightfully happy.”

  If they could wake up. He held her hard for a minute. Then his clasp relaxed, and he said with sudden violence.

  “That little devil must be starting.”

  “Is it morning?”

  “Yes-seven o’clock-quite light outside.”

  A most terrible longing for the light swept over Margaret. She had a picture of the grey morning, and an aeroplane rising higher and higher until the sunlight struck the wings and made them shine. She cried out:

  “I can’t bear it! Charles, if they don’t come today-if they don’t come soon, he’ll get there-he’ll get to Vienna! And she doesn’t know-she’ll be waiting for him, and she doesn’t know!”

  “We’re all in the same boat, my dear.”

  “I can’t bear it!” There were tears in her voice. “It’s so awful not to be able to do anything. When I think that she’s alive, I want to sing for joy; and when I think of him- getting nearer and nearer, and no one to warn her, I-I-Charles!”

  She clung to him in a passion of bitter weeping.

  “She’s got more chance than we have, darling.” The blunt fact came out bluntly. “In a sort of a way he cares for her, and-they may find us, you know.”

  Margaret’s passion sank strangely into calm.

  “You don’t think they will.”

  Charles Moray was silent.

  CHAPTER XLV

  Miss Silver! Thank Heaven!”

  Miss Maud Silver looked mildly at an agitated young man. She took a latch-key from a neat capacious bag and opened her office door.

  “Come in, Mr. Millar.”

  Archie came in, flung his hat on a chair, and rumpled his hair violently.

  “I’ve been walkin’ up and down waitin’ for you till I thought I should go mad.”

  “Dear me, Mr. Millar-and why?”

  “Where’s Charles Moray?”

  Miss Silver paused in the act of taking off a long drab rain-coat.

  “I really have no idea.”

  “Where’s Margaret Langton?”

  “Mr. Millar-what do you mean?”

  “I mean they’ve disappeared-that’s what I mean. I’ve been trying to get on to Charles since two o’clock yesterday. He’s never been back to his hotel. I went to Miss Langton’s flat last night, and she wasn’t there. And she hasn’t been to work. What’s happened?”

  A faint, fleeting smile just touched Miss Silver’s face.

  “They might have gone away together.”

  “Don’
t you believe it! Somethin’ has happened. Now look here! Charles went down to his house yesterday afternoon and stayed there till it was dusk sortin’ papers-I’ve seen the housekeeper. He let himself out by the garden way, and nobody’s seen him since.”

  “And Miss Langton?”

  “I’d just been seein’ her when I rang you up yesterday. I was all worked up about Miss Standing. Miss Langton told me to go to the police. I didn’t want to do that.” Archie hesitated; he wasn’t sure how much Miss Silver knew.