the captives-第97节

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ake。〃

〃For　my　sake？　But　why？　I　wanted　to　see　him。　I　was　trying　to　see　him　in　London。　Oh；　Grace；　what　did　he　say？〃

〃What　did　he　say？　Well；　fancy！　As　though　I　could　remember。　He　said　he'd　come　to　see　you；　and　when　I　said　he　couldn't；　he　went　away　again。〃

〃Said　he　couldn't？　But　why　couldn't　he？〃

〃Really；　Maggie；　your　tone　is　extraordinary。　Fancy　what　Paul　would　say　if　he　heard　you。　He　wouldn't　like　it；　I'm　sure。　I　said　that　after　the　way　he'd　behaved　last　time　he　came　here　you　didn't　want　to　see　him　again。〃

〃You　said　that？　Oh；　Grace！　How　did　you　dare！〃　〃Now；　Maggie；　don't　you　look　like　that。　I've　done　nothing；　I'm　sure。〃

〃Did　you　say　that　I'd　said　that　I　didn't　want　to　see　him　again？〃

Grace　shrank　back　behind　the　tea…things。

〃Yes；　I　did　。　。　。　Maggie；　you　frighten　me。〃

〃I　hope　I　do　。　。　。　You're　wicked；　you're　wicked。　Yes；　you　are。　Where　is　he　now？〃

〃He's　at　the　'Sea　Dog。'　That　dirty　public　house　on　the　sea…front　near　TunstallsWhere　are　you　going？〃

〃I'm　going　to　him　of　course。〃　Maggie　turned　and　looked　at　Grace。　Grace　was　fascinated　as　a　rabbit　is　by　a　snake。　The　two　women　stared　at　one　another。

〃How　strange　you　are；　Grace；〃　Maggie　said。　〃You　seem　to　like　to　be　cruel！〃　Then　she　went　out。　When　the　door　was　closed　Grace　found　〃that　she　was　all　in　a　perspiration。〃　Her　hand　trembled　so　that　when　she　tried　to　pour　herself　another　cup　of　teajust　to　fortify　herselfshe　poured　it　into　the　saucer。　And　the　tea　was　coldno　use　now。

When　she　rose　at　last　to　go　in　and　seek　consolation　from　Paul　her　knees　were　trembling　so　that　she　staggered　across　the　floor。　This　couldn't　go　on。　No；　it　could　not。　To　be　frightened　in　one's　own　house！　Absurd　。　。　。　Really　the　girl　had　looked　terrible　。　。　。　Murder　。　。　。　That's　what　it　had　looked　like。　Something　must　be　done。

Murmuring　aloud　to　herself　again　and　again　〃Something　must　be　done〃　as　she　crossed　the　hall；　she　walked　slowly；　her　hand　to　her　heart；　ponderously；　as　though　she　were　walking　in　the　dark。　Then；　as　soon　as　she　had　opened　the　study　door　she　began；　before　she　could　see　her　brother：　〃Oh；　Paul；　I'm　so　frightened。　It's　Maggie。　She's　very　angry。　Fancy　what　she　said。〃

Maggie　meanwhile　had　gone　straight　up　to　her　bedroom　and　found　her　black　hat　and　her　waterproof。　Her　one　thought　now　was　lest　he　should　have　caught　the　five　o'clock　train　and　gone　back　to　London。　Oh！　how　hurt　he　would　be　with　her；　how　terribly　hurt！　The　thought　of　the　pain　and　loneliness　that　he　would　feel　distressed　her　so　bitterly　that　she　could　scarcely　put　on　her　hat；　she　was　so　eager　to　run　and　find　him。　She　felt；　at　the　thought　of　his　fruitless　journey　through　the　rain；　the　tenderest　affection　for　him；　maternal　and　loving；　so　that　she　wanted　to　have　him　with　her　at　once　and　to　see　him　in　warm　clothes　beside　the　fire；　drinking　whisky　if　he　liked；　and　she　would　give　him　all　the　money　she　possessed。

She　had　still　touched　very　little　of　her　own　three　hundred　pounds。　He　should　have　as　much　of　that　as　he　liked。　The　death　of　Aunt　Anne　had　shown　her　how　few　people　in　the　world　there　were　for　her　to　love。　After　all；　the　aunts　and　Uncle　Mathew　had　needed　her　as　no　one　else　had　done。　She　made　little　plans；　she　would；　perhaps；　go　back　with　him　to　London　for　a　little　time。　There　was；　after　all；　no　reason　why　she　should　remain　in　this　horrible　place　for　ever。　And　Paul　now　seemed　not　to　care　whether　she　went　or　stayed。

She　ran　out　into　the　wind　and　the　rain。　She　was　surprised　by　the　force　and　fury　of　it。　It　would　take　time　and　strength　to　battle　down　the　High　Street。　Poor　Uncle　Mathew！　To　walk　all　the　way　in　the　rain　and　then　to　be　told　that　she　would　not　see　him！　She　could　imagine　him　turning　away　down　the　drive；　bitterly　disappointed　。　。　。

Probably　he　had　come　to　borrow　money；　and　she　had　promised　that　she　would　not　fail　him。　When　she　reached　the　High　Street　she　was　soaked。　She　felt　the　water　dripping　down　her　neck　and　in　her　boots。　At　the　corner　of　the　High　Street　by　the　bookseller's　she　was　forced　to　pause；　so　fiercely　did　the　wind　beat　up　from　the　Otterson　Road；　that　runs　openly　to　the　sea。　Maggie　had　not　even　in　Glebeshire　known　so　furious　a　day　and　hour　when　the　winds　tossed　and　raged　but　never　broke　into　real　storm。　It　was　the　more　surprising。　She　had　to　pause　for　a　moment　to　remember　where　Turnstall's　the　butcher　was；　then；　suddenly　recalling　it；　she　turned　off　the　High　Street　and　found　her　way　to　the　mean　streets　that　ran　behind　the　Promenade。　Still　she　met　no　one。　It　might　have　been　a　town　abandoned　by　all　human　life　and　given　over　to　the　wind　and　rain　and　the　approaching　absorption　of　the　sea。　It　was　now　dark　and　the　lamp　at　the　end　of　the　street　blew　gustily　and　with　an　uncertain　flare。

Maggie　found　Turnstall's；　its　shop　lit　and　Mr。　Turnstall　himself；　stout　and　red…faced；　behind　his　bloody　counter。　She　went　in　and　asked　him　where　〃The　Sea　Dog〃　might　be。　He　explained　to　her　that　it　was　close　at　hand；　on　the　right；　looking　over　the　Promenade。　She　found　it　at　last　because　it　had　an　old…fashioned　creaking　wooden　sign　with　a　blue　sailor　painted　on　it。　Timidly　she　stepped　into　the　dark　uneven　passage。　To　the　right　of　her　she　could　see　a　deserted　room　with　wooden　trestles　and　a　table。　The　bar　must　be　near　because　she　could　hear　voices　and　the　clinking　of　glasses；　but；　in　spite　of　those　sounds　the　house　seemed　very　dead。　Through　the　walls　and　rooms　she　could　hear　the　pounding　beat　of　the　sea。　She　walked　to　the　end　of　the　passage　and　there　found　an　old　wrinkled　man　in　riding　breeches　and　a　brightly…coloured　check　shirt。

〃Can　you　tell　me　where　a　gentleman；　Mr。　Cardinal；　is　staying？〃　she　asked。

He　was　obviously　very　deaf；　she　had　to　shout。　She　repeated　her　question；　adding。　〃He　came　from　London　to…day。〃

A　stout　middle…aged　woman　appeared。　〃What　is　it？〃　she　asked。　〃The　old　man's　stone　deaf。　He　can't　hear　at　all。〃

〃I　was　wondering；〃　said　Maggie；　〃whether　you　could　tell　me　where　I　could　find　a　Mr。　Cardinal。　He　came　down　from　London　to…day　and　is　staying　here。〃

〃Cardinal　。　。　。　Cardinal？〃　The　woman　thought；　scratching　her　head。　〃Was　it　Caldwell　you　meant？〃

〃No；〃　said　Maggie。　〃Cardinal。〃

〃I'll　go　and　see。〃　The　woman　disappeared；　whilst　the　old　man　brushed　past　Maggie　as　though　she　were　a　piece　of　furniture；　he　departed　on　some　secret　purpose　of　his　own。

〃What　a　horrible　place！〃　thought　Maggie。　〃Uncle　must　be　in　a　bad　way　if　he　comes　here。　I　never　should　sleep　for　the　noise　of　the　sea。〃

The　woman　returned。　〃Yes。　'E's　here。　No。　5。　Come　this　afternoon。　Up　the　stairs　and　second　door　on　the　right。〃

The　stairs　to　which　she　pointed　offered　a　gulf　of　darkness。　The　woman　was　gone。　The　noises　from　the　bar　had　ceased。　The　only　sound　in　the　place　was　the　thundering　of　the　sea；　roaring；　as　it　seemed；　at　the　very　foot　of　the　house。

Maggie　climbed　the　stairs。　Half…way　up　she　was　compelled　to　pause。　The　darkness　blinded　her；　she　had　lost　the　reflection　from　the　lamp　below　and；　above　her；　there　was　no　light　at　all。　She　advanced　slowly；　step　by　step；　feeling　her　way　with　a　hand　on　the　rickety　bannisters。　At　the　top　of　the　stair　there　was　a　gleam　of　light　and；　turning　to　the　right；　she　knocked　on　the　second　door。　There　was　no　answer　and　she　knocked　again。　Listening；　the　noise　of　the　sea　was　now　so　violent　that　she　fancied　that　she　might　not　have　heard　the　answer　so　she　turned　the　handle　of　the　door　and　pushed　it　open。　She　was　met　then　by　a　gale　of　wind；　a　rush　of　the　sea　that　seemed　as　imminent　as　though　she　were　on　the　shore　itself　and　a　dim　grey　light　that　revealed　nothing　in　the　room　to　her　but　only　shapes　and　shadows。

She　knew　at　once　that　the　windows　must　be　wide　open；　she　could　hear　some　papers　rustling　and　something　on　the　wall　tapped　monotonously。

〃Uncle　Mathew！〃　she　whispered；　and　then　she　called　more　loudly。

〃Uncle　Mathew！　Uncle　Mathew！〃

There　was　no　answer　and　suddenly　a　strange；　quite　unreasoning　terror　caught　her　by　the　throat。　It　was　all　that　she　could　do　not　to　cry　out　and　run　down　to　the　gas…lit　passage。　She　held　herself　there　by　sheer　force；　the　smell　of　the　sea　was　now　very　strong；　there　was　a　tang　of　rotten　seaweed　in　it。

As　she　remained　there　she　could　see　more　clearly；　but　it　seemed　that　the　room　was　full　of　some　dim　obscuring　mist。　She　moved　forward　into　the　room；　knocked　her　knee　against　a　table；　and　then　as　the　panic　gained　upon　her　called　more　loudly；　〃Uncle。　。　。　Uncle。　Are　you　in？　Where　are　you？　It's　I；　Maggie。〃

〃Oh　well。　。　。　of　course　he　isn't　here；〃　she　said　to　herself。　〃He's　downstairs。〃　And　yet；　strangely；　something　seemed　to　persuade　her　that　he　was　there；　it　was　as　though　he　were　maliciously　hiding　from　her　to　tease　her。

Feeling　her　way　cautiously；　her　hands　before　her　face；　she　moved　forward　to　close　the　windows；　thinking　that　she　must　shut　out　that　abominable　sound　of　the　sea　and　the　stale　stink　of　the　seaweed。　She　was　suddenly　caught　by　a　sweep　of　rain　that　wetted　her　hair　and　face　and　neck。　She　started　back　and　touched　a　piece　of　damp　cloth。　She　turned；　and　there；　very　close　to　her　but　above　her　and　staring　over　her　head；　was　Uncle　Mathew's　face。　It　was　so　close　to　her　that　she　could　have　touched　it　by　putting　up　her　hand。　It　was　white…grey　and　she　would　not　have　seen　it　at　all　had　she　not　been　very　near　to　it。

She　realised　nothing；　but