Kirkland Revels
Page 24
” Then you can only think that inside the monk’s robe was a real person.”
” Yes, I think that.”
“Then I must tell you all the truth. Nothing must be held back.” And I told him of the apparition I had seen in the Abbey when Damaris was with me, and how she had declared there had been nothing there. ” I think that was the worst moment of all because then I began to doubt myself.”
” We must assume that Damaris knows what’s going on; she must be a party to the plot. “
” I am sure Luke wants to marry her, but does she want to marry Luke?”
” Perhaps she wants to marry the Revels,” said Simon;
” and she couldn’t do that, could she, unless the place was Luke’s.”
” You’re helping me … you’re helping me a lot.”
” It’s what I want to do more than anything.”
” How can I thank you!”
His arm was round me now ; he drew me to him and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I could feel his cold face pressed against mine for a few seconds and the warmth which enveloped me surprised me.
” It is strange that I should look to you for comfort.”
” Not at all strange. We’re two of a kind.”
” Oh yes, you admire my common sense. You thought it was very clever of me to marry Gabriel … for his possessions.”
” So you remember that.”
” It is not the sort of thing one is likely to forget. I suppose you would not blame whoever it is who wants to drive me mad … if they succeed.”
” I’d wring his neck … if I could find him.”
” Then your attitude has changed.”
” Not in the least. I didn’t admire you for, as I thought, marrying Gabriel for what he could give you. I admired you for your sharp wits and your courage … which I knew were there.”
” I am not being very courageous now.”
” You are going to be.”
” I must be, it seems, if I am to retain your good opinion.”
He was pleased by the lightness which had crept into our conversation; as for myself I was surprised that, with the burden of suspicion that was lying heavily upon me, I could indulge in it; but it did me good that much I knew.
” Yes,” he repeated, ” you are going to be. And I am here to help you.”
” Thank you, Simon.”
He looked at me intently for a few seconds and I read in his looks the knowledge which he wished me to share. He and I were about to embark on a new relationship; it was an exciting one; it would be one of stimulation to us both, of fierce disagreements and splendid accord.
We were two of a kind. He had recognised that, as I did now. I knew what he was telling me, and I wanted to listen so much.
I went on: ” There have been times when I did not know whom I could trust.”
” You will trust me,” he said.
” It sounds like a command.” I smiled. ” It often does when you make a statement.”
” That is a command.”
” And you think you have a right to command me?”
” Yes … in view of … everything, I do.”
I did not want to move from this spot. I felt as though I had found a peaceful place in which to rest and be happy. Behind me lay that grim institution with its dark secrets; ahead of me the Revels and, somewhere not far distant, was my father’s house. But here I was suspended between threats of disaster, and here I wanted to stay.
I believed in that moment that I was in love with Simon Redvers and he with me. It was a strange conclusion to arrive at at such a time in a cold country lane.
It did not seem strange to me that these strong emotions I felt were for Simon Redvers. In some way he reminded me of Gabriel; he was Gabriel without his weakness. When I was with Simon I understood what had made me hurry into that marriage with Gabriel. I had seen something to love and protect there, and that was what I needed; I had loved him in a way, for there are many kinds of love. Pity is love, I thought; the need to protect is love. But there was a deep and passionate love of which I knew nothing; I knew, though, that to love completely one must know every phase of loving, and that was the real adventure, to widen one’s emotions, to discover their depths as the years passed.
But I was a long way from such an adventure. There was so much to be lived through first. I had to be delivered of a child and of my fear.
And at this moment I could not peer very far into the mist which hid the future.
But Simon was with me, and such a thought, even at this time, could set my senses singing.
” Very well,” I said, ” I am ready to listen to your commands.”
“Ready then. The first thing we’re going to do is drive to an inn a mile along this road. There we are going to eat,” ” I couldn’t eat.”
” You have forgotten that you suggested I should command
” But the thought of food revolts me.”
” There is a quiet little room just off the inn parlour where the host serves his special guests. I am always a special guest. His speciality is a pudding made with steak and mushrooms. It has to be tasted to be believed. We’ll have a claret which he will bring from his cellar especially for us. I defy you to resist when you smell the aroma of mine host’s speciality.”
” I will come with you and watch you enjoy it.”
He took my hand again, brought it half-way to his lips, then pressed it and smiled at me.
It was strange that I could be almost happy as we bowled along that road with the wind in our faces and the wintry sun trying to smile at us; but I was.
I even ate a little of the special pudding; and the claret warmed me.
Simon was practical as he always would be.
” Your next step,” he said, ” is to write to your father. You must ask him for the truth. But mind you, whatever the truth, we are not going to be downhearted.”
” But suppose that is really my mother in that place?”
” Well, suppose it is.”
” Let’s look at it clearly, Simon. My mother in that place … and myself, according to some, seeing visions, doing strange things.”
” We don’t believe in the visions, do we?” he said gently.
” I don’t. And how can I thank you and your grandmother for supporting me in this?”
“You don’t have to thank us for having an opinion, Catherine. If we could only catch the monk in the act, that is all we should need to prove our case. It’s my opinion that he’s found some place in which to hide himself. We must try to discover it. Next week the Christmas festivities will begin, and my grandmother and I will spend two nights in the house. That may give us a chance to discover something.”
” I wish it were this week.”
” It will soon come.”
” And if they try anything in the meantime … ?”
He was silent for a few seconds, then he said: ” If you should see the monk again, tell no one. I believe he wants you to talk of what you have seen, but do not give him that satisfaction. Continue to lock your doors at night so that you can’t be startled from your sleep. You haven’t been. have you, since you began to lock them? I think that’s significant. In the meantime you will hear from your father—and you are not going to be distressed, whatever he has to tell you. I never did believe that we relied on our ancestors for what we are. We are in command of our own fates.”
” I’ll remember that, Simon.”
” Yes, do remember it. What we are and what we become is in our own hands. Think of it like this: what is the population of England to-day? Some ten times what it was a few hundred years ago. Has it struck you that if we could trace our ancestors far back enough we must all be related in some way with each other. In all our families there have very likely been rogues and saints, madmen and geniuses.
No, Catherine, each of us is an individual with his—or her—own life in his hands. “
” You are philosophical,” I sai
d. ” I had never thought that. I had thought you practical in the extreme, excelling in good, straightforward common sense, but without imagination and therefore without sympathy.”
” That’s the mask I wear. We all wear them, don’t we? I’m tough; I’m shrewd; I’m a blunt man who doesn’t mince his words. That’s the outward me. Not a very attractive personality, you’ll agree, as you did on our first meeting Brash, determined that no one shall get the better of him-therefore he’s going to start trying to get the better of everyone else. That’s part of me … I don’t deny it. I’m all of that. But perhaps I’m something else besides. A man’s made up of many parts….” He looked at me slyly. ” And a woman is probably more complex still.”
” Please go on,” I said. ” You’re doing so much for me.”
” All right. When you go back to the Revels how are you going to feel?”
” I don’t know, except that it won’t be so good as I feel here.”
“No,” he said. You’re going to be afraid. You’re going to hurry up the stairs, turning to see if you are being pursued; you’re going to throw open the door of your room, and you’re going to look anxiously about you to see if he’s there. Then you’re going to lock him out, but you won’t lock out your fear completely, because it’s there in your mind and with the darkness your fear will grow stronger.
”
” You are right, of course.”
He leaned across the table and took my hand.
” Catherine, there is nothing to fear. There is never any thing to fear. Fear is like a cage which prevents our escaping, but we make the bars of the cage ourselves. We see them as strong iron bars . unbreakable. They are not so, Catherine. We ourselves have the power to take those bars in our hands and break them. They can be strong; they can be flimsy; for we ourselves have made them what they are. “
” You are telling me / have nothing to fear !”
“Nothing has really harmed you, has it. You have only been frightened.”
” How can I know that it never will?”
” The motive, at least, is becoming clear to us. This person-or persons—is seeking to unnerve you. Your life is not in danger. If you were to die violently, following Gabriel, suspicions would certainly be aroused. No, it is the child who is threatened. This person’s motive is to reduce you to such a state of fear that your chances of producing a healthy child are endangered. In view of Gabriel’s death, it has to appear I natural.” I ” And Gabriel’s death”
I began. “I am beginning to think that was the first act in the drama.”
” And Friday?” I murmured, remembering then the night before Gabriel’s death, when Friday had behaved strangely and insisted on going into the corridor. I told Simon of this. ” There was someone there.
Waiting. But for Friday it might have been that night. And then Friday disappeared. “
He put his hand over mine. ” We don’t know how it happened,” he said.
” Let us concern ourselves with what lies ahead of us; we can only conjecture what happened in the past. If we can discover the identity of our monk, if we can catch him in his robe, then we can demand an explanation; and I have no doubt that we shall learn what part he played in Gabriel’s death. “
” We must find him, Simon.”
” We must. But if you see him again, ignore him. Do not try to tackle him. Heaven knows what he might do. If there’s anything in our conjectures about Gabriel, remember we may be dealing with a murderer.
You must do as I say, Catherine. “
” I will, Simon.”
” And remember,” he added, ” you are not alone. We’re fighting this . together.”
We left the inn and he drove me back to the Revels. I was pleased because, although my visit to Worstwhisde had not given me the satisfaction for which I had hoped, I no longer felt alone, and that was a wonderful comfort.
I wrote to my father and I believed that I should have the truth from him in a few days’ time, because he would understand my need to know quickly; and when I had posted the letter I felt strengthened. Nothing unusual happened the next day, and during the following morning Dr.
Smith came to the house.
He wanted to see me alone, and Ruth left us in the winter parlour together.
He looked at me almost tenderly as he came to the chair in which I was sitting. He laid his hand on the arm of the chair and said gently: “
So you paid a visit to Worstwhistle.”
” I wanted to be sure,” I explained.
” Of course you did. And you satisfied yourself that I had been speaking the truth?”
” They would tell me nothing.”
He nodded. ” The Superintendent acted in the only way possible.
Naturally he must respect the privacy of his patients and their relations. But you did discover that there was a patient of that name in the institution. “
” Yes.”
” Catherine, believe me. I am telling you the truth when I say I know that patient to be your mother. Your father, Mervyn Corder, visits her regularly each month. No doubt he thought he was wise in keeping this from you.”
” If the patient in Worstwhistle is my mother, no doubt he did.”
” I am glad to see you calmer, Catherine. If you had asked me, I would have taken you to Worstwhistle. You would have seen then that I could have done so much more for you than Simon Redvers could possibly do.”
I was almost on the point of telling him that I had written to my father, but I did not do so. Simon had said that the two of us would solve the mystery together, and I wanted to keep this our secret matter.
Besides, there was little I hoped for from anything my father could tell me. It seemed obvious that the Catherine Corder who was in Worstwhistle must be my mother.
” Perhaps later,” the doctor was saying. ” I will take you to the place and you might see her.”
” Would that serve any useful purpose since I have never known her?”
” But you would like to see your own mother?”
” I doubt if she would know me.”
” She has her lucid moments. There are times when she thinks she is young again and you are a baby. And there are other times when she is vaguely aware of what has happened to her.”
I shivered. I was not going to tell him that I had a horror of entering that place; that I had a strange premonition that if I crossed that threshold again, I might become a prisoner there. If I told him that, he would listen with sympathy, but he would be telling himself that it was part of my overwrought condition which made me imagine that, as I imagined that I saw ” visions.”
I could not be so frank with him as I was with Simon. This was a further indication of my feelings for the latter. I told myself that I could trust no one—not even Dr. Smith—for I knew that he was ready to believe that I was in an unbalanced state. But it wasn’t true that I trusted no one. I trusted Simon.
Christmas was three days away. The servants had decorated the hall with branches of holly and there was mistletoe too. I had heard some of the female servants giggling with the men as this was fixed up in the most appropriate places. I had seen the dignified William seize Mary-Jane and give her a resounding kiss under the pearly berries.
Mary-Jane responded good-humouredly; it was all part of the fun at Christmas.
Then I received the letter. I was in the garden when I saw the postman coming towards the house. I had been looking out for him because I did not believe my father would keep me long in suspense.
And I was right. There was his handwriting on the envelope.
With wildly beating heart I hurried to my bedroom, and took the precaution of locking the doors before I opened the letter.
My dear Catherine, I read, I was startled and shocked to receive your letter. I understand your feelings and, before you read any further, I want to assure you that the Catherine Corder who is now in Worstwhistle is not your mother, although she is my wife.
 
; I had meant, of course, to tell you the truth on your marriage, but I did not tell I could do so without consulting my brother, who is deeply concerned in this.
My wife and I were devoted to each other, and two years after our marriage we had a child a daughter named Catherine. But this was not you. My wife adored our daughter and could scarcely bear the child out of her sight. She spent the greater part of her time in the nursery supervising everything concerned with her. We had a nurse, of course.
She came to us with good recommendations, and she was affectionate, fond of children and efficient when she was not under the influence of gin.
One day when my wife and I had been visiting friends, there was mist on the moor and we lost our way. We were two hours later than we had expected to be, and when we returned the damage had been done. The nurse, taking advantage of our absence, had become intoxicated; and while she was in this state she had decided to bath the baby. She put our child into a bath of scalding water. There was only one consolation death must have been Almost instantaneous.
My dear Catherine, you who are about to become a mother will understand the grief which overtook my wife. She blamed herself for leaving the child in the nurse’s care. I shared her grief, but hers did not grow less as time passed. She continued to mourn the child and I began to be alarmed when she gave way to accusations against herself. She would pace through the house wildly sobbing, wildly laughing. I did not know then what this tragedy had done to her.
I used to tell her that we would have more children. But I could see that the need to pacify her was urgent. And then your uncle Dick had this idea.
I know how fond you are of your Uncle Dick. He has always been so good to you. That is natural, Catherine, when the relationship between you is known. He is your father. Catherine.
It is difficult to explain this to you. I wish he were here so that he could do it himself. He was not a bachelor as he was thought to be.
His wife your mother was French. He met her when he was in port for a spell at Marseilles. She came from Provence and they were married within a few weeks of their first meeting. They were ideally suited and deeply regretted your father’s long absences.
I believe he had almost decided to give up the sea when you were about to be born. Strangely enough tragedy hit us both in the same year.