CHAPTER XVII
Behind the shrubberies, which lay at the back of the holly hedge thatsurrounded the little enclosed garden outside the library, beyond theend of the battlements, and reached by a disused footpath, a great treestood upon the edge of the steep hillside and thrust its sweepingbranches over the void.
Its trunk was grey and moss-grown; moss carpeted the ground between itsprotruding roots, but the bracken and heather held back, and left ahalf-circle beneath it, untenanted by their kind. It would seem that allvegetation fears to venture beneath the shade of the beech; and for themost part it stands solitary, shunned by other growing things exceptmoss, which creeps undaunted where its more vigorous brothers lack thecourage to establish themselves.
Here came Juliet that morning.
A week ago, David Southern had shown her the path to the tree. It hadbeen a favourite haunt of his when he was a boy, he told her. It was aprivate chamber to which he resorted on the rare occasions when he wasdisposed to solitude; when something had gone wrong with his world he hadbeen used to retire there with his dog, or, more seldom, a book. There hehad been accustomed to lie, his back supported by the tree, and holdforth to the dog upon the troubles and difficulties of life and thegeneral crookedness of things; or, if a book were his companion, hewould gaze out, between the pages, at distant Crianan clinging faintly tothe knees of Ben Ghusy, and watch the swift change of passing cloud andhanging curtain of mist upon the faces of the hills and loch.
It had been a place all his own; secret from every one, even from Mark,his companion during all those holidays that he had spent at Inverashiel.Somehow, David told Juliet--and it was a confidence he had seldom beforeimparted to anyone--he had never quite managed to hit it off with Mark.He couldn't say why, exactly. No doubt it was his own fault; but therewas no accounting for one's likes and dislikes.
And with quick regret at having betrayed his carefully suppressedfeelings in regard to his cousin, David had laughed apologetically, andspoken of other things.
Here, then, just as the steamer _Rob Roy_ was drawing close to the woodenlanding-stage at the edge of the loch, with Julia Romaninov stillstanding in the bows; here, because she had once been to this place withhim, because without her he had so often sat upon these mossy roots, cameJuliet to dream of her love.
Like him, she seated herself against the tree trunk at the giddy brink ofthe precipitous rock; like him, her eyes rested on the smooth watersbelow her, or on the far-away misty distance where Crianan slumbered;but, unlike him, her eyes, as they looked, were filled with tears. Wherewas he now? Oh, David, poor unjustly treated David! In what narrow cell,lighted only by a high, iron-barred window--for so the scene shapeditself in her mind--with uncovered floor of stone, bare walls and a benchto lie on, was the man she loved wearing away his days under the burdenof so frightful an accusation?
For the thousandth time Juliet's blood boiled within her at thethought, and she grew hot with anger and indignant scorn. That anyoneshould have dared to suspect him! Why were such fools, such wicked,evil-working imbeciles as the police allowed to exist for one momentupon the face of the globe? But no doubt they had some hidden motive inarresting him, for it was quite incredible that they really imagined hehad committed this appalling crime. She could not understand theirmotive, to be sure, but without doubt there must have been some reasonwhich was not clear to her.
Oh, David, David! Was he thinking of her, as she was thinking of him? Didhe know, by instinct, that she would be doing all that could be done tobring about his release? But was she? Again her mind was filled with thedisquieting question, was there nothing that might be done, that she wasleaving undone? Had she forgotten something, neglected something? She wassure Gimblet did not believe David to be guilty, but was he certain ofbeing able to prove his innocence? He did not seem to have discoveredmuch at present.
Suddenly, in the midst of her distress, she smiled to herself.
At least Miss Tarver had shown herself in her true colours, and was nomore to be considered. Juliet felt that she could almost forgive her forher readiness to believe the worst. It was dreadful, yes, and shamefulthat anyone else should think for a moment that David could be capable ofsuch a deed, but in Miss Tarver, perhaps, the thought had not beeninexcusable. On the whole, it was so nice of her to break the engagementthat she might be forgiven the ridiculous reason she had advanced fordoing it. Of course, Juliet assured herself, it was a mere pretext,because _no_ one could possibly believe it. And in this manner shecontinued to reiterate her conviction that the suspicions entertained ofher lover were all assumed for some darkly obscure purpose.
So the morning wore away. A shower or two passed down the valley, butunder the thick tent of the beech leaves she scarcely felt it. She was,besides, dressed for bad weather; and the grey and mournful face of theday was in harmony with her mood.
There was something comforting in this high perch. She seemed more alooffrom the troubles and despair of the last few days than she had imaginedpossible. There was a calm, a remoteness, about the grey mountains,disappearing and reappearing from behind their screen of cloud butunchanged and unmoved by what went on around and among them, that was insome way reassuring.
The burn that ran at the bottom of the hill on which she sat, hurryingdown to the loch in such turbulent foaming haste, she was able tocompare, with a sad smile, to herself. The loch, she thought, was wideand impassive as justice, which did not allow itself to be influenced bythe emotions. The burn would get down just the same without so muchturmoil and fuss; and she would see David's name cleared, equally surely,if she waited calmly on events, instead of burning her heart out inhopeless impatience and anxiety.
As she gazed, with some such thoughts as these, down to the streamthat splashed on its way below her, her attention was caught by amovement in the bushes half-way down the steep slope at the top ofwhich she was sitting.
The day was windless and no leaf moved on any tree. There must be someanimal among the shrubs that covered the embankment, some large animal,since its movements caused so much commotion; for, as she watched, firstone bush and then another stirred and bent and was shaken as if bysomething thrusting its way through the dense growth.
What could it be? A sheep, perhaps; there were many of them on thehillsides. This must be one that had strayed far from the rest. And yetwould a sheep make so much stir? Juliet drew back a little behind thetrunk of the beech-tree. Could it be a deer? She could not hear any soundof the creature's advance, for the air was full of the clamour of theburn, but she could trace the direction of its progress by shaking leavesand swinging boughs. It seemed to be gradually mounting the slope.
Suddenly a head emerged from the waving mass of a rhododendron, and withastonishment Juliet saw that it was that of Julia Romaninov.
Her first impulse was to lean forward and call her, but as she did so thecry died unheard upon her lips. For the manner of Julia's advance struckher as very odd. The girl was bending nearly double, and moving with acaution that seemed very strange and unnecessary. What was the matter?Was she stalking something? Crouching as she was in the bushes, she wouldnot be seen by anyone on the path below. Did she not want to be seen? Itlooked more and more like it. But why in the world should Julia creepalong as if she feared to be observed? Where was she going, and why?
Suddenly Juliet came to a quick decision: she would find out what JuliaRomaninov was doing.
She backed hurriedly into the bracken, and made her way slowly andcautiously around the clearing under the beech-tree to the edge of thehill again, keeping under cover of the fern and heather. When she peeredover, Julia had disappeared from view beneath the rhododendrons.
For a minute Juliet's eyes searched the side of the slope below. Then shedrew back her head quickly, for she had caught sight of another bushshaking uneasily a little way beyond the gap in which she had had herfirst glimpse of the cause of the disturbance. Cowering low in thebracken she crept along the top, keeping a foot or two from the edge,where the rock fell
nearly perpendicularly for a few yards before itsangle changed to the comparatively gradual, though actually steep slopeof the hill which Julia was climbing.
From time to time she looked cautiously between clumps of fern or heath,to make sure that she was keeping level with her unconscious quarry.
The front of the hill swung round in a bold curve till it reached thecastle; and it soon became evident that, if both girls continued toadvance along the lines they were following, they would converge at apoint where the end of the battlemented wall met the great holly hedgethat formed two sides of the garden enclosure.
Juliet perceived this when she was not more than a dozen yards from thecorner, and dropped at full length to the soft ground, at a spot whereshe could see between the stalks and under the leaves, and yet herselfremain concealed. She had not long to wait. In a minute, Julia's faceappeared over the brow of the hill. She pulled herself up by a young firsapling that hung over the brink, and stood for a moment, flushed andpanting after her long climb. She was dressed in a greenish tweed, whichblended with the woodland surroundings, and her shoulder was turned tothe place where Juliet lay wondering whether she would be discovered.
Fronting them, the end of the little turret, with which the wall of theold fortress now came to a sudden termination, could be seen rearing itsgrey stones above the dark glossy foliage of the hedge, which grew herewith peculiar vigour and continued to the extreme edge of the cliff, andeven farther.
What was Juliet's surprise to see Julia, when she had found her breath,and taken one quick look round as if to satisfy herself she wasunobserved, suddenly cast herself down, in her turn, upon the damp earth,and inserting her head beneath the prickly barricade of the holly leaves,begin to crawl and wriggle forward until she had completely disappearedunder it. What in the world could she be doing?
Minutes passed, and she did not reappear. Juliet waited, her nervesstretched in expectation, but nothing happened. Overhead little birds,tomtits and creepers, played about the bark of the fir-trees; a robincame and looked at her consideringly, with a bright sensible eye; fromtwo hundred feet below, the murmur of the burn rose constant andinsistent; but no other sound broke the stillness, nor was there any signof human life upon the top of the cliff.
At last the girl could stand it no longer. Her patience was exhausted.Curiosity urged her like a goad; and, if she had not much expectation ofmaking any important discovery, she was at least determined to solve themystery that now perplexed her.
Without more ado she got to her feet, and ran to the holly hedge. There,throwing herself down once more, she parted the leaves with a cautioushand, and followed the path taken by the Russian.
The hedge was old and very thick, more than three yards in width at thisend of it. In the middle, the trunks of the trees that formed it rose ina close-growing, impassable barrier; but just opposite the place whereJulia had vanished Juliet found that there was a gap, caused, perhaps, bythe death in earlier days of one of the trees, or, as she afterwardsthought more likely, by the intentional omission or destruction of one ofthe young plants. It was a narrow opening, but she managed to wrigglethrough it.
On the other side, progress was bounded by the wall, whose massivegranite blocks presented a smooth unbroken surface. Where, then, hadJulia gone? The branches did not grow low on this, as on the outer sideof the hedge, and there was room to stand, though not to stand upright.Stooping uncomfortably, the girl looked about her, and saw in the softbrown earth the plain print of many footsteps, both going and coming,between the place where she crouched and the end of the wall. She lookedbehind her, and there were no marks. Clearly, Julia had gone to the end;but what then? The corner of the wall was at the very edge of theprecipice; from what she remembered to have seen from below, the rockwas too sheer to offer any foothold; besides why, having just climbed tothe summit should anyone immediately descend again, and by such anextraordinary route? While these thoughts followed one another in hermind, Juliet had advanced along the track of the footsteps, and clingingtightly to the trunk of the last holly bush she leant forward and lookeddown.
As she thought, the descent was impossible: the rock fell away at herfeet, sheer and smooth; there was no path there that a cat could take. Itmade her giddy to look, and she drew back hurriedly.
Where, then, could Julia have gone? Not to the left, that was certain,for then she would have emerged again into view. To the right? Thatseemed impossible. Still, Juliet leant forward again, and peered roundthe corner of the wall.
There, not more than a couple of feet away, was a small opening, lessthan eighteen inches wide by about a yard in height. Hidden by theoverhanging end of the hedge, it would be invisible from below. Here wasthe road Julia had taken.
Juliet did not hesitate. She could reach the aperture easily, and itwould have been the simplest thing in the world to climb into it, butfor the yawning chasm beneath. Holding firmly to the friendly holly, andresisting, with an effort, the temptation to look down, she swungherself bravely over the edge and scrambled into the hole with a gasp ofrelief. It was, after all, not very difficult. She found herselfstanding within the entrance of a narrow passage built into thethickness of the wall. Beside the opening through which she had come, alittle door of oak, grey with age and strengthened with rusty bars andcross-pieces of iron, drooped upon its one remaining hinge. Two hugeslabs of stone leaning near it, against the wall, showed how it hadbeen the custom in former centuries to fortify the entrance still moreeffectively in time of danger.
Juliet did not wait to examine these fragments, interesting though theymight be to archaeologists, but hurried down the passage as quickly asshe could in the darkness that filled it, feeling her way with anoutstretched hand upon the stones on either side. As her eyes becameaccustomed to the obscurity, she saw that though the way was dark it wasyet not entirely so: a gloomy light penetrated at intervals throughivy-covered loopholes pierced in the thickness of the outer wall; and sheimagined bygone McConachans pouring boiling oil or other hospitablegreeting through those slits on to the heads of their neighbours. Butsurely, she reflected, no one would ever have attacked the castle fromthat side, where the precipice already offered an impregnable defence;the passage must have been used as a means of communication with theouter world, or, perhaps, as a last resort, for the purpose of escape bythe beleaguered forces.
After fifty yards or so of comparatively easy progress, the shafts oftwilight from the loopholes ceased to permeate the murky darkness inwhich she walked, and she was obliged to go more slowly, and to feel herway dubiously by the touch of hands and feet.
The floor appeared to her to be sloping away beneath her, and as sheadvanced the descent became more and more rapid, till she could hardlykeep her feet. She went very gingerly, with a vague fear lest the pathshould stop unexpectedly, and she herself step into space.
Presently she found herself once more upon level ground, when anotherdifficulty confronted her: the walls came suddenly to an end. Feelingcautiously about her in the darkness, she made out that she had come to apoint where another passage crossed the one she was following, a sort ofcross-road in this unknown country of shade and stone. Here, then, werethree possible routes to take, and no means of knowing which of themJulia Romaninov had gone by.
After a little hesitation, she decided to keep straight on. It would atall events be easier to return if she did, and she would be less likelyto make a mistake and lose her way. So on she stumbled; and who shall saythat Fate had not a hand in this chance decision?
Though the distance she had traversed was inconsiderable, the darknessand uncertainty made it appear to her immense, and each moment sheexpected to come upon the Russian girl. At every other step she pausedand listened, but no sound met her ears except a slight, regular,thudding noise, which she presently discovered, with something of ashock, to be the beating of her own heart. The sound of her progress wasalmost inaudible. As the day was damp, she was wearing goloshes, and hersmall, rubber-shod feet fell upon the stone floor with a gen
tle patterthat was scarcely perceptible.
At last she nearly fell over the first step of a flight of stairs.
She mounted them one by one with every precaution her fears couldsuggest. For by now the first enthusiasm of the chase had worn off, andthe solitude and darkness of this strange place had worked upon hernerves till she was terrified of she knew not what, and ready to screamat a touch.
Already she bitterly regretted having started out upon this enterpriseof spying. Why had she not gone and reported what she had seen to Mr.Gimblet? That surely would have been the obvious, the sensible course. Itwas, she reflected, a course still open to her; and in another moment shewould have turned and taken it, but even as the thought crossed her mindshe was aware that the darkness was sensibly decreased, and in anothersecond she had risen into comparative daylight. As she stood still,debating what she should do, and taking in all that could now bedistinguished of her surroundings, she saw that the stairs ended in anopen trap-door, leading to a high, black-lined shaft like the inside of achimney, in which, some two feet above the trap, an odd, narrow curve ofglass acted as a window, and admitted a very small quantity of light. Astreak of light seemed to come also from the wall beside it.
Juliet drew herself cautiously up, till her head was in the chimney, andher eyes level with the slip of glass.
With a sudden shock of surprise she saw that she was looking into theroom which, above all others, she had so much cause to remember everhaving entered.
It was, indeed, the library of the castle, and she was looking at it fromthe inside of that clock into which Gimblet had once before seen JuliaRomaninov vanish.
The curtains were drawn in the room, but after the absolute blackness ofthe stone corridors the semi-dusk looked nearly as bright as fulldaylight to Juliet, and she had no difficulty in distinguishing thatthere was but one person in the library, and that person Julia.
She was standing by a bookshelf at the far end, near the window, andseemed to be methodically engaged in an examination of the books. Julietsaw her take out first one, then another, musty, leather-bound volume,shake it, turn over the leaves, and put it back in its place aftergroping with her hand at the back of the shelf. Plainly she was huntingfor something. But for what? She had no business where she was, in anycase, and Juliet's indignation gathered and swelled within her as shewatched this unwarrantable intrusion.
She would confront the girl and ask her what she meant by such behaviour.But how to get into the library?
Looking about her, she saw that the streak of light in the wall besideher came through a perpendicular crack which might well be the edge of alittle door.
She pushed gently and the wood yielded to her fingers.
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