“I married her,” said I. “We couldn’t have let her go, and that was the only way.”
Hubert stared and stared, as though I had by my answer unmasked some Gorgon’s head.
“Married her?” he said at last. “Do you mean to say she’s your wife?”
“On paper,” said I. “It won’t make any difference. And directly the show is over we’re going to get it annulled.”
My cousin put a hand to his head.
“Are you being funny?” he said.
“Not consciously,” said I. “We were married in church at Mittal an hour-and-a-quarter ago. But don’t tell ‘Holy.’ The news will have got to Haydn before he’s back.”
Hubert stepped to the basin and took his seat on its rim.
“Well, you two beat it,” he said. “As for Andrew, he’ll probably kill you. He loves her himself.”
“I can’t help that,” said I. “I was the only one there. Besides, I had the idea.”
“He probably had it, too. But he hadn’t the infernal impudence to voice it.”
“It’s only an arrangement,” said I. “A matter of form. And when we’ve got it annulled, he can start again. You and he and Stiven will know the truth, but everyone else must believe that we’re man and wife.”
“But that is the truth,” cried Hubert. “Unless you’ve been pulling my leg, she bears your name.”
“And there it ends,” said I. “She’s taken my name for a season because, as Olivia Haydn, she could not stay in this house. That is the secret which we four shall know and preserve. And now I want you to listen. I’ve got an idea.”
“More ideas,” said Hubert, and covered his face.
Still, when I spoke of leaving the Rolls at some farm, he at once approved the project and called to Stiven to take the stuff out of the car, “for if,” said he, looking up, “you propose to survey that mountain, you ought to be off at once. But, first, you must go after Andrew and see what’s holding him up. I refuse to believe that he’s fallen foul of Harris, but the misgiving grows more obtrusive with every quarter of an hour. In fact, sitting here is the devil: but one of us must do it, and I seem to feel it’s my job. What time will the maid get to Mittal?”
I told him at half-past five.
He frowned.
“She’ll have to be fetched. I tell you straight, I hate this going and coming. I’ve seen no sign of Harris, but I’ll bet he’s up on his toes.”
“I’ll bet he’s sick of walking,” said I.
My cousin fingered his chin.
“What did we do when we were sick of walking?”
“We took the Rolls.”
“Exactly,” said Hubert, rising. “And I can’t help feeling that Harris might have the same idea. So for God’s sake keep your eyes skinned, and don’t stop to pick any flowers where the drive runs into the road. If you should find the way blocked, you must over ride the obstruction and put down your foot. If it’s too big, clap her into reverse and squirt back as hard as you can. And I think you’ll have to take Stiven. I don’t like your going alone.”
“He’s not going alone,” said Olivia.
Nothing we said could move her, and since we dared waste no more time she had her way. But I was desperately uneasy and made her sit with my pistol upon her knees.
My fears were justified.
Had the Rolls been less silent, we must have run the gauntlet I dreaded so much.
As we swung round the last bend but one, there were Harris and Bunch and Bugle in the midst of the way, plodding away from the castle and arguing as they went.
I could, I think, have killed two out of the three: but to run them down without warning would have been butchery, and I could not bring myself to do so ruthless a thing. As the great car leaped forward I, therefore, sounded the horn. Then I laid hold of the wheel, determined to show no more mercy, whatever befell.
I rather imagine the three knew what to expect, for they never so much as looked round, but hurled themselves into the bracken, like men possessed. Though they had time to jump clear, it was all they could do, and long before they could recover their poise I had whipped round the last of the bends and out of their sight.
“Which shows,” said Olivia calmly, “that we’re not the only people to make mistakes.”
“True,” said I, “but they won’t make that one again.” Here we came to the main road. “Shall we turn right or left?”
The decision to be made was a grave one. Palin was long overdue, and if he was on his way back, unless we met him and stopped him, he would run into Harris’ arms and, while he was alone and was using a far less responsive car, I had that moment taught Harris the value of lying in wait.
“Left for luck,” said Olivia, but though she said no more, I saw that she sat with her underlip caught in her teeth.
That we are creatures of Destiny cannot, I think, be denied. Had we turned to the right we should have missed Palin by seconds. As it was, we met him roughly a mile from the hamlet which he had just left..
As the cars came to rest alongside—
“And Olivia, too,” said Palin. Now, isn’t that nice? I pictured you nearing Villach. A moment ago I was raging at being kept waiting so long—I told that young sweep beside you to be as quick as he could. But ‘now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by’ the sight of you.” He turned to me. “I shall, therefore, omit the biting address of welcome which I had composed and pass direct to my news. I’ve got eight men and the steward, but they won’t budge until they’ve seen you. I must confess I don’t blame them. Harris was pretty well trained. He actually knew the servants’ Christian names. And his way all over the castle and the country about. If you ask me, the train was laid long before your great-uncle died. If ever the secret was found, Harris and his brother were going to get away with the stuff. This Harris was to play burglar, when the other gave him the word. He had his gang all warned, and, no doubt, had stood by for weeks, ready to leave the instant his brother wired. That’s why he was so quick off the mark. This is all surmise, I know, but it all fits in. Any way, if the steward likes you, his star has set. But they’ve all been badly shaken, and, of course, what they can’t understand is why we don’t call in the police. That’s an awkward question, you know. I mean, we know the answer, but it isn’t one we can give. And now drive on and I’ll follow. You’ll see a little old inn on the left-hand side.”
Ten minutes later the steward stood before me, twisting his hat in his hands.
“My name’s John Ferrers,” I said. “You were my great-uncle’s man.”
Olivia, who was playing interpreter, translated my words. As luck would have it, the steward knew her by sight.
“I have been his man, sir, for more than twenty-one years.”
“I hope you will be mine and my cousin’s for the rest of your life.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It’s easy to say I’m John Ferrers. A man called Harris said so five days ago. Ask me what questions you like to prove the truth of my words.”
The man hesitated.
“It is not for me, sir. And—and I do not know what to ask.”
There was an awkward silence. The man had been badly bitten and now was shy.
“I’m not very like my great-uncle. That I know.”
“No, sir,” came the obvious, but disconcerting reply.
I moistened my lips.
“My mother’s name was Helen. My great-uncle called her Nell.”
“Yes, sir,” said the man respectfully. And then, “It is true, of course: but then I did not know that.”
“That is her portrait in the gallery—in a habit with a dog by her side.”
“Is it, indeed, sir? I never knew whose it was.”
“My father’s name was William: but I don’t suppose you ever saw him. He and my mother died a long time ago.”
The steward inclined his head . . .
I decided to play the only card that I had.
With my eyes
on his face, I stretched out my hand, palm downwards.
“Do you know this ring?”
As I spoke, I knew what I had done. As Palin afterwards put it, I had not only ‘torn it,’ but ‘bent it.’ I had drawn the steward’s attention—his very particular, attention to the method I proposed to adopt of clearing the ditch of distrust. Then I had taken a short run and jumped ‘bung into it—with a couple of ‘b’s.’
Before I could think, Olivia’s hand was by mine.
“This is the ring to which my husband refers. He gave it me when we were married, two hours ago.”
“Olivia,” cried Palin, and the blood went out of his face.
“It’s the truth,” said Olivia, calmly. “Show the steward your wrist-watch, John, and let him compare the crests.”
As I unbuckled the strap—
“It is enough,” said the steward. “Whom my lady has honoured I am content to serve.”
For all that, we made him regard the two crests, and I think their identity scattered the rear of his doubts.
Then I gave him my hand, and he went down on one knee. Olivia gave him hers, and he did the same. Then he stepped to the door and called his men.
These were fine-looking fellows, up-standing, fresh-faced and honest, obviously country-bred.
The last closed the door behind him, and the eight stood silent and wide-eyed, like boys in school.
“This is he indeed,” said the steward. “And there by his side is your mistress, his wedded wife.”
The eight shuffled uneasily.
“Tell me their names,” I said.
He called them out one by one, and one by one they knelt as they took my hand.
“And please remember,” said I, “that my cousin, now at the castle, is equal with me. The orders he gives are my orders, as mine are his. And all I do I do in his name, as well as in mine.”
“It is understood, sir,” said the steward, gravely. “Good,” said I. “What about food?”
“In the storerooms, sir, there is food for us all for two months. But it is not fresh food.”
“Buy fresh food here. As much as they can carry. And let them start for the castle in two hours’ time. They are not to go by the main road. They must cut through the woods and join the road of approach after the second bend.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
“One word more. The quarrel with Harris is mine. I will not call in the police. He has insulted the living and he has insulted the dead. That is not stuff for a police-court. Hohenems can fight its own battles with those that defile its walls.”
I seemed to have said the right thing. As Olivia spoke the last sentence a growl of approval arose.
Then I nodded to the steward and he set open the door.
As the men passed out, I addressed him.
“Mr. Palin will drive you back. Choose two of the men to go with you. That road’s not safe.”
“Very good, sir.”
Then he bowed himself out, and Olivia and Palin and I were left to ourselves.
It was I that did the talking, while Olivia sat in the window, half on and half off the sill, and smiled at the play of some puppies in the sunlit garden below.
I could hardly ask her to leave, but I would have given a lot for her to be out of the room.
At length—
“Well, words fail me,” said Palin. “And that’s the unvarnished truth. I think you must be insane. Both of you. Married? You two married? You might as well say The Babes in the Wood were divorced. It’s like making a leading case of a Nursery Rhyme. And you talk about an arrangement . . . You seem to have married Olivia rather as most men give up their seats in a bus. ‘Do take my name, won’t you? I’m getting out almost at once.’ ”
Olivia’s shoulders were shaking and I fought hard not to smile.
“That’s right. You laugh,” said Palin. “See the humorous side. It is a scream, isn’t it? We trust you to take her to the station, and you marry her by the way. Talk about wolves in sheep’s clothing . . . And then you’ve the nerve to say that it’s ‘only a matter of form’ . . . Of course you must be deranged. There’s plenty of ground for annulment. The court’s only got to hear how you went to work.”
“It’s a game, I tell you,” I protested.
“Yes, I didn’t hear you tell the steward,” said Palin. “And I’ve got a sort of feeling that you didn’t tell the priest.”
“I hate defeating my object.”
“Oh, give me strength,” said Palin. “And now, for the love of God, let’s talk about something else. Harris, for instance.” He clenched an enormous fist. “If he crosses my path this evening, I’ll knock his face through his head.”
“Then take off your coat,” said I. “You’re almost certain to meet him three miles from here.”
Chapter 9. False Colours
My prophecy was, happily, vain.
Though I was not to know it till later, Harris had plainly decided that until he was ready the road must take care of itself, for Palin was not molested, and Stiven, who drove to Mittal to meet Olivia’s maid, was able to go and come back without any let or hindrance on the part of the thieves.
Meanwhile, Olivia and I were fighting another foe.
We could not, as Joshua did, compel the sun to stand still, and though by three o’clock we were viewing the back of the mountain on which the castle was built, the hours which remained before nightfall slid by so fast that my uneasiness very soon changed to alarm. Even had I been alone, I should have been loth to be benighted in places which even by daylight could only be traversed with care or, what was still worse, which daylight might well have shown to be quite impassable: and I was not alone.
I have stated my two fold purpose—to find a way over the mountain from north to south and to find a farmer willing to house the Rolls. But, though, since the map was faithful, we were able with ease to determine the point at which our reconnaissance ought to begin, as I brought the car to rest by the side of the road, I perceived with a shock that I must take a decision for which I was not prepared.
The trouble, of course, was this—that I had not given the matter sufficient thought. The day had been so crowded that, though from its conception the matter had been in my mind, I had not had time to consider the undertaking, still less the time and energy it would demand. But now that I looked upon the mountain, I saw at a glance that we had no time to survey it and that once we were up on its top we must not turn back. I, therefore, had to determine whether to abandon the project and forthwith drive the Rolls home, or whether to attack the position and take the risk of failure and all it entailed.
But for our brush with Harris I should have turned the Rolls round without more ado. Had I known that the drive was safe—as in fact it was—I could not have adventured Olivia on such an enterprise. But I feared an ambush so much and had been so much relieved to think she had seen the last of the road of approach that I could not face the prospect of taking her back that way, and the rigours of a night on the mountain seemed to me almost genial beside ‘the power of the dog.’
This I told her plainly, and when I said I hoped she agreed, she nodded her head.
“Harris missed you this morning. If he didn’t miss you this evening, where should I be?”
“Don’t talk about it,” said I. “It makes my blood ran cold.”
“And don’t you think,” said Olivia, “that you’re rather too young to die? Never mind. What about this farm?”
We had passed not so much as a cottage for quite five miles, but a mile-and-a-half further on we came to a farm in a hollow which served our turn.
Olivia, of course, spoke for me and told a very good tale—that we were two of a party which was ranging the country about and was studying birds. The Rolls, she said, was too big for our present needs, but we or one of the others would come to seek her as soon as she was required. Meanwhile, if the farmer would house her, we would pay him a shilling a day. Upon this, the goodwife—for the farmer was in
the fields—made haste to open the doors of a well-found barn and, when I had put in the car, promised to let no one touch her unless they produced her keys.
She then gave us some excellent coffee and fresh-baked bread, and whilst we were discussing this fare, Olivia asked her some questions about the farm. The idle conversation brought forth valuable fruit. Before we had done, we had learned that, though this spot was favoured, the northern side of the mountain was very dry, for that all the springs seemed to break on the southern side, “which is why,” said the dame, “we are lonely, for nowhere else hereabouts would a farm have water enough to serve its needs. But we have the Hohenems water, which is the best in the world.”
With that, she showed us a rill which ran by the side of the house and seemed to come down from a culvert beneath the road.
“That is the water that serves the Castle of Hohenems which is beyond the hills. Myself, I have never seen it, but my husband’s nephew says it is very fine. There is a courtyard there as big as a market-place.”
“But how,” said Olivia, “how do you know it’s the same? "
“It is from the same dell,” said the woman, lifting a hand. “The dell is up there, below the crest of that hill. Once we had but the overflow, and when the springs diminished, our water failed. But my father-in-law arranged it and laid a pipe in the dell, and now we always have water: and Hohenems does not miss it, for a great fall washes the castle by day and night.”
So we learned a way which would lead us straight up the mountain to the very point we desired. Two minutes later we bade our informant good-bye.
The sun was going down as we came to the dell, but though Olivia was weary, I dared not let her rest because the air was so chill.
Where the water came from I could not see, but a sturdy fountain was gushing out of the forest which lapped the dell. Here the water seethed for a moment before foaming down the channel which led to the castle fall, and out of this pool, no doubt, the farmer had led his pipe.
Now even if we could have done so, to follow the channel would have been waste of time, for I knew that it led to a cliff down which the water fell sheer for the first thirty feet of the fall: but if we bore to the left and then descended a little before we bore back to the right we should skirt the peak of the mountain and join the water again below the cliff. And then we should be directly above the castle, some three hundred feet below.
Safe Custody and Laughing Bacchante Page 15
