Ward of Lucifer

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Ward of Lucifer Page 15

by Mary Burchell


  "Cheerful, Miss Norma?" Mrs. Parry repeated the word doubtfully. "Mr. Yorbe isn't exactly what you, mean by a cheerful person, now, is he? He didn't look annoyed about anything, if that's what you mean."

  Norma said she supposed that was what she had meant, and ate a rather small breakfast.

  Then she decided that on one point, at any rate, she would be clear, and went to telephone Richard, to tell him that she wanted to see him as soon as possible.

  For several minutes she tried unsuccessfully to get through to the local exchange. Then a servant, passing through the hall, stopped and said: "The telephone's been out of order for the last hour or so. Miss Norma. There must have been a tree down in the night across the wires, or something."

  It would be to-day, of all days! thought Norma exasperatedly. But she controlled herself sufficiently to say: "It doesn't matter. I'll walk over instead." And, pulling on a coat, she went out of the house.

  It was the white coat, with the red belt, which she had been wearing the first evening she came to Bishopstone. But she thought, with a sigh, that the girl who was wearing it now was very different from the lighthearted, eager schoolgirl who had first come to Bishopstone.

  In spite of her determination to clarify the position with Richard as soon as possible, the beauty of the morning and perhaps a certain reluctance for her task prompted her to take the long way round, which led over high ground. There was not such an extensive view as the one Paul had shown her, but a good deal of the surrounding country was visible and, at the highest point, she came suddenly, and without warning, upon her guardian.

  He must have dismounted some while ago, because his horse was contentedly cropping the tender spring grass, with an air of having settled down to a satisfactory occupation. Justin Yorke himself stood, with his hands thrust into his pockets, staring down into the valley. And Norma hardly needed to follow his glance before she realized, with a painful little tug in her heart. that he was gazing down on the red roofs of Munley.

  He was quite unaware of her presence, and, as she stood breathlessly watching him, the curious impression came to her that her fate was being silently decided at that moment.

  Was he looking down on Munley and wondering if it were worth another struggle? Was he bracing himself, by a sight of the beloved house, for something much harsher and more ruthless in his handling of the situation? Or was he saying good-bye to the place with grim resignation, at any rate for the time?

  And, as Norma watched, he gave a long, impatient sigh, shrugged slightly and turned away. As he did so, he saw that she was standing at the edge of the small open glade, and for a moment they looked at each other, as they had across the room on the previous evening.

  Then she went to turn and slipped her arm into his. "Do you mind terribly about letting it go?" she said softly.

  "Yes. I mind terribly," he said, mimicking her words a little scornfully, but he put his arm round her.

  "And yet you're going to let it go?"

  There was a slight silence, and then he said: "Yes." "Why?" She spoke almost in a whisper.

  And, after a moment, he bent and kissed the soft curve of her cheek and said rather mockingly: "Perhaps I mind terribly about your happiness too." Norma swallowed a lump in her throat and hugged him,

  "Did you follow me up here to find this out?" he inquired dryly.

  "Oh, no! No, I was going over to see Richard and thought I'd come the long way round."

  He pressed his lips together, as though it were not very easy to control his irritation over her rebellion even now. But he said: "All right. Go along with you, and get the matter settled."

  "And where are you going?" Norma asked rather anxiously, as he went over and caught his horse by the bridle.

  "I?" He glanced amusedly at her over his shoulder.

  "You don't need my assistance in explaining the situation to mworth, do you?"

  "Oh, no. I just wondered."

  "I'm going over the moor to Barnholme. I have business there, and shan't be back until after lunch."

  "But can you get down to the road from here?"

  Norma looked doubtfully over to the broad road which Paul had once pointed out to her.

  "There's a rough track over the hill and down on the other side." Her guardian swung himself into the saddle, and then pointed with his whip across what looked to Norma like rough open country.

  "Isn't it difficult going?" She stood beside him, looking up at him.

  "Not very." He smiled down at her. "Not if you know it very well, and I do. There's no real path, but I've cut across country that way since I was a boy. I shan't get lost, if that's what you mean." And he bent and kissed her upturned face. "There, go and settle your affairs with Inworth. And, if you want something else to employ your time until I get back," he added, with a sarcastic little curl of his lip, "you'd better v/rite a specially nice letter to your friend, Paul Cantlin."

  And, with an angry little laugh for the completeness of his own surrender, he whirled his horse and rode off before Norma could make any comment.

  For several minutes she stood looking after him, blinking her lashes because there were actually a few tears in her eyes.

  She wished now that she had expressed her thanks more clearly told him that she would willingly have done most things to obtain Munley Towers for him, only she could not do that. But that would have to

  wait now until the afternoon or evening. And presently she started down the slope towards Munley.

  The main road lay between her and Munley, and, c she came out on to it, she heard the sound of an approaching car, and was irresistibly reminded of the time Paul had overtaken her, on that first evening.

  But this time it was not Paul's useful little runabout, but Richard, in his high-powered sports car. And, at the sight of her, he drew to an abrupt standstill, and got out, to clasp her by both hands.

  "Norma, dear! I was just coming over to Bishopstone."

  "And I was coming to Munley," she explained, with a nervous little laugh.

  She thought he was going to kiss her, and, on the impulse of the moment, and without waiting for a more suitable opportunity, she said quickly: "Richard, there was something I had to come and tell you. It isn't anything you'll be pleased about," she added hastily, in case she should raise undue hope: "But you ought to know and"

  "You aren't engaged to some other fellow, are you he interrupted quickly.

  "No. There's nothing at all definite. Only I'm so terribly sorry, Richard, but I know now that I don't want to marry you, and please don't go on being so fond of me because "

  "Can't help it," Richard told her, with a rueful smile, "You're that sort of girl."

  l "Well, there must be other girls of that sort, too," Norma said desperately. "I feel a beast for letting you hope so long, but I did try to be honest in the beginning, only"

  "That's all right, Norma." He was still holding her hands and he gripped them rather hard. "I tried to

  rush you in the beginning, and you were quite frank even then. Don't reproach yourself, dear. It's a bad knock, of course. But I don't know that I've quite given up hope No, all right" as she made a movement to interrupt him "I know officially there's no hope. But I shan't look around at anyone else much until you've said 'I will' to some other chap."

  She laughed a little unsteadily, "Well, I hope someone else terribly nice will say 'I will' to you some day," she said earnestly. "'Of course you don't think so, right at this moment. But oh, I do hope you're happy later on, Richard."

  "I'll manage," Richard told her. Then, with a grin of forced amusement, he added: "How did Yorke take it?"

  "Very well," Norma said -slowly. "He was disappointed at first. But he really puts my happiness first, you know. I've only just left him, as a matter of fact. He was riding over the moor to Bamhoime this morning."

  "Barnhohne? Won't be able to go over there today," Richard said. "They've closed all the roads. They're blowing up the dump at midday, you know. Didn't you get a
phone message from the police?"

  "They're what? They can't be!" Norma turned very white.

  "That's all right, Norma! Don't look like that."

  Richard put a reassuring hand on her arm. "They take every precaution, you know. Yorke would be turned back before he got far along the road."

  "He wasn't going by the road," gasped Norma.

  "What do you mean?"-Richard spoke sharply.

  "He was going across country by a sort of track he says he's known it since he was a boy."

  "He's no right to do any such thing, the fool!"

  Richard sounded perturbed at last. "There've been preliminary warnings in the local paper for the last three weeks."

  "But we arrived only yesterday. He won't have bothered to look at a local paper. He isn't interested in that sort of thing."

  Richard muttered something.

  "Are you sure there wasn't a final phone warning from the police this morning?"

  "No." Norma shook her head. And then she remembered. "The phone was dead when I tried to ring you this morning. Richard, he just can't have known! Oh, God, how awful! What's the time?"

  Simultaneously, they glanced at then- watches, and exclaimed in dismayed chorus: "Twenty to twelve!"

  "We must I must go after him," exclaimed Norm: distractedly.

  "Nonsense. Don't be a fool." Richard caught her arm, as though he thought she might literally run off at that moment. "No one can go on to the moor till it's over now. They wouldn't let you and nor should L"

  "But he'll be killed, Richard!"

  "He must take his chance. There's a possibility that he'll be seen from the road and turned back."

  "No, no! That isn't true. I know he's in danger.

  Oh, Richard, please think of something! "

  "You can't go after him that's one thing."

  Characteristic obstinacy, as well as sheer common sense, made that emphatic. And Norma recognized the tone she had heard once before.

  She knew there was no question of arguing away the precious moments with Richard. And suddenly her mind was quite clear and an obstinacy which matched Richard's took possession of her.

  "Very well. But please look and see if you can see any sign of him. Richard you've got a sportsman's eyesight you'll see him if anyone can. Look, there's a gap in the hedge a little way back. You'll be able to see right across the hill to the moor. Please go and look. Please!"

  "All right." He patted her arm sympathetically.

  "Coming too?"

  But Norma covered her face with her hands and sank down on the step of the car, apparently overcome.

  "I can't. I can't bear to watch him r-riding towards it."

  "It won't be possible to see anything, anyway," Richard told her with gloomy frankness.

  "But please try. He has a light riding jacket on.

  You might just be able to see."

  To satisfy her, Richard walked the few yards to the gap in the hedge. And, through her slightly spread fingers, Norma watched him.

  When he had reached the point farthest away from her, she slipped into the driving seat of the car, praying that she would remember where the self-starter was. She had driven the thing just once before, and she must remember she must remember.

  The roar of the powerful motor springing into life almost drowned Richard's cry of angry warning. And, as he started to run towards her, the car shot away from him down the road.

  She didn't look back. There was no need to, and, in any case, she was an inexperienced driver and had all she could do to manage this high-powered car.

  It was a horribly mean trick to have played on poor, trusting Richard, of course. Inexcusable in any other circumstances. But there was no possibility of choosing ways and means in such a crisis.

  l Past the gate of Bishopstone so fast that it looked little more than a grey flash, and then on through the blessedly empty village street, and out on to the road which led to the moor. Not the safe low road. The high road which was to be barred to everyone to-day.

  Would that mean a very substantial barrier, she wondered frantically, or just a stolid village constable with a red flag?

  In three minutes the question was answered for her Across the centre of the road stretched a pole, resting on two struts, and to one side of it stood a watchful constable who signalled her to stop, with a very bright, menacing-looking red flag.

  Jamming her foot down on the accelerator, Norma swept round the other side of the flimsy barrier, on to the grass verge, off again, and then found she was racing onwards at a pace she had never achieved in her life before.

  Out of sight and sound of the constable, she slowed little once more, because there was no point in overshooting her mark. With anxious eyes, she raked the hillside on her right, trying to decide at which point a rider might conceivably make his way down to the road.

  From time to time, she cast distracted glances at the little clock in front of her. She had checked it, earlier, by her own watch, and now its bland face irresistibly registered that there were nine-eight-seven minutes left.

  And then she saw him.

  He had almost reached the road, about quarter of a mile ahead of her. And, with a cry of mingled triumph and warning, she swept up to him and braked to a screeching standstill, while his startled horse reared angrily.

  "What the devil! Norma!" Her terrified white face conveyed disaster to him, and he swung himself from his horse and came to her side. "What on earth has happened?"

  "Get in," she gasped. "The ammunition dump it's going up at midday and there are hardly five minutes left."

  Mercifully, he was not a man who needed to have the "i's" dotted and the "t's" crossed. He looked once at his watch, and then quickly round, as though taking in exactly where they were in relation to the coming explosion. Then, turning his horse in the direction from which Norma had come, he gave it a sharp cut across the flanks with his whip, and watched it angrily dash for what it did not know was possible safety.

  "Move over,"' he said curtly, as he got into the car.

  And, trembling all over, Norma relinquished the driving seat to him.

  "Is that clock right?"

  "I think so."

  "We may just do it, then."

  Norma had thought she had come fast but, for a burst of about a minute and a half, the car travelled now at a pace which made her head sing. When they plunged off the road, down a grassy incline, she thought for a petrifying moment that he had lost control of the car. But he drew the car to a standstill near the bottom and said: "Get out."

  There was no time for anything but curt orders and unhesitating obedience.

  Not daring to look at the clock now, she slid out of the car, and felt her hand caught in a hard grip.

  Without the support of that grip she would have fallen more than once, as he raced her down the last rough bit of the incline. Then, sweeping aside a tangle of brambles and overhanging branches and weeds, he thrust her before him into what seemed at first to be the very hillside, itself.

  Gasping, she pushed against the wall of vegetation and found that it gave and that, covered with prickles and dead twigs and a few indignant spiders, she was standing in what she took at first to be a cave.

  "How did you know" she began.

  "Get further back and lie down," he ordered. And, as she obeyed, he added curtly: "It's the entrance to one of the shafts of the old mine."

  "But fancy your thinking"

  The rest of what she had been going to say was never uttered. For, at that moment, a tremendous, growing roar seemed to shake the very universe.

  Gasping with sheer breathlessness and a dreadful sort of elemental fear, Norma hid her face in her arms. At the same time, she knew that he had flung himself on the ground beside her and she felt his arm over her in a strong, reassuring clasp.

  She could feel, rather than hear, the beating of his heart or was it hers? At any rate, something maintained that strong, steady beat of survival in a shaking, terrifying world.
<
br />   It seemed to her that for minutes, rather than seconds, that shattering roar continued. And then she was stunnedly aware that it was no longer beating on her eardrums, and her guardian's voice, oddly calm still, said: "That's over."

  Norma gave one deep sob of relief, and was immediately drawn close against him. And, at the same moment, another noiseless shattering but terrifyingly nearer made them both start.

  There was a slithering sound of falling rocks and stones, and the tremendous "swish" of quantities of earth sliding downwards. Once more Norma hid her face in terror, this time against her guardian's shoulder. And, when she raised her head again, it was quite dark.

  No light filtered any more 'through the overhanging vegetation at the entrance. There was no entrance. And no exit either.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "WHAT has happened?" whispered Norma huskily. And then, because her guardian didn't reply at once, she said it again, more urgently: "What has happened?"

  "I'm not quite sure," he said slowly, and she loved him very much in that moment because the calmness of his voice kept her own panic at bay. "But I think there's been some sort of landslide, and the entrance is blocked for the moment."

  "You mean we're shut in?"

  "Not necessarily. At least, not completely. If you'll release my arm for a moment, darling, I'll get out my lighter and see what I can."

  She realized then how tightly she was clinging to him and, with a murmured apology, she let him go, though he found her cheek and kissed it, to show that the apology was not necessary.

  Then she heard the rasp of his lighter, and a little bright flame, a pitiful little flame sprang into life against the all-pervading blackness.

  He moved forward to the blocked entrance, and she came with him, partly because to be near him gave her courage. Then he 'gave her the lighter to hold, and she hoped he didn't notice how queerly the flame flickered, until she got a grip on herself and managed to steady her hand.

 

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