The Spring of the Tiger

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The Spring of the Tiger Page 34

by Victoria Holt


  I did not answer.

  He went on: "I have to tell you something."

  'There's nothing I want to hear from you."

  His hand moved up until it came to the pearls.

  "I didn't kidnap the boy, Sarah," he said.

  I was silent.

  "You don't believe me, do you?"

  "No," I answered.

  "I'll tell you what happened."

  "I don't want to hear the loathsome details."

  "They aren't quite what you think."

  "Spare me."

  "When have I ever spared you?" He leaned toward me and kissed my lips.

  "I am very tired," I said.

  "Actually you are wide awake and whether you like it or not I am going to tell you. I've had the pearls for some time. I had them before your father died."

  "What nonsense! I saw them before you stole them. Clytie showed them to me."

  "What Clytie showed you were not the Ashington Pearls."

  "I saw them with my own eyes."

  "What you saw was a replica of the Ashington Pearls."

  I moved impatiently away from him.

  "Dear Sarah, you wouldn't know the difference. How could you? They are a work of art. . . that replica. I know. I had them made myself."

  "I suppose you have worked out this explanation because you are afraid of what action I might take."

  That made him laugh. "When have I ever been afraid of you!"

  "You are now. You have betrayed yourself and you are wondering what the outcome will be."

  "Don't you think I would have considered that before I showed you the pearls? Be sensible, Sarah. Listen to me. Some time before your father died, Clytie and Seth came to me in great distress.

  They were in financial diflBculties. Your father did not know about this. He was a very sick man for more than a year before he went to England. He left the management of the plantation entirely to Seth. Seth has his weaknesses—one of which is a compulsion to gamble. He was in dire difficulties. He had borrowed on the prospect of the plantation's coming to him through Clytie. He was in desperate need of money. Neither he nor Clytie wanted your father to know that they had been borrowing money in his name . . . the name of the plantation, that is. Are you listening, Sarah?"

  "Yes," I said faintly.

  "The outcome was that they needed a great deal of money if they were going to be saved from disaster. They came to me."

  "Are you telling me that you bought the necklace from them?"

  "I am telling you exactly what I did. I knew I was going to marry you . . ."

  "Before you had seen me!"

  "I had heard so much about you. I was in love with you before I saw you. You turned out to be even more desirable than my imaginings. That was just my good fortune."

  "Go on," I said. "Tell me the rest."

  "As you guessed I bought the necklace. Oh, for far less than its value, of course. After all, no one knows what that is. It is beyond price. And with the purchase money I gave a necklace which was —to inexpert eyes—an exact replica of the real thing. I kept the pearls for you, Sarah. I knew it wouldn't be easy to explain so I kept them locked away, but I have noticed lately that the orient has deteriorated a little. It needs the warmth of your skin to bring back its luster. The famous pearls must not suffer because of Seth's inesponsibility."

  "So . . . according to you it was a replica Clytie showed me."

  "It was."

  "And that was what she gave to the kidnapers."

  "My dear, sweet Sarahl Don't you see what happened? Clytie wore the replica for your welcome ball. It always creates a sensation. I heard Reggie Glendenning talking about it and asking for a closer inspection. He's something of a connoisseur. Clytie was terrified. It's all very well to bring out the false Ashingtons and

  display them on her neck in candlelight, but good as they are they could not stand up to the daylight scrutiny of an expert."

  "Are you telling me that the kidnaping was arranged?"

  "Of course."

  "Idon'tbeheveit."

  "Why not? Didn't it all happen rather too easily? Ashraf was an accomplice. Sheba was in it. She'd do anything for Clytie. You can picture what happened. You were all at the festival. Ashraf creeps up and chooses his moment. Ralph went off with him readily and the boy was taken for the night to people he knew. He would suffer little inconvenience from the adventure. The false pearls are supposed to be handed over. It wouldn't surprise me if Clytie still has them."

  I was stunned. Clytie, who seemed so fragile, so feminine, so frank, to have planned the kidnaping, to have feigned that grief which had upset me so!

  Clinton knew what I was thinking. "Clytie is a good and lovely wife," he said. "She would stand by Seth no matter what he did. Seth's gambling habits had brought them to this and she did everything she could to save him. At the same time no one must know that she had sold the necklace. In fact I don't think she has the authority to do it. But ever since I saw it my fingers were itching to get hold of it. After all, when a man who works with pearls and knows pearls is brought face to face with what must be the finest specimen in the world he longs to possess them. You understand that, Sarah?"

  "I understand your motives perfectly."

  "And you don't despise me now. You only hate me?"

  "I shall need to verify all this."

  "Good heavens! Are you suggesting that I add lying to my many sins?"

  "I would be prepared for anything from you!"

  "Sarah, dearest Sarah, I am so glad you have the necklace now. You are going to wear it when we are alone. I think we had better keep it that way for a while. Then we will think of some way of making it known that I have paid a great price to a fence and it now belongs to you. You are an Ashington. Our son's wife will wear it in due course. The gods are satisfied I am sure. All you

  have to do now is produce the son. You have been rather remiss, Sarah. I should have thought you might have done that by now. Never mind, there is time. And I will tell you this. No man could be more content with his marriage than I am with mine. It mustn't change, Sarah. Never let it change."

  I did not answer him. I was thinking of all he had told me, of Clytie's deception, of that dreadful night when we had sat side by side and I had sought in vain to comfort her. And all the time she had been acting a part!

  Whom can I ever trust again? I asked myself.

  Then I thought of living out my life with Clinton, of bearing children; and I wondered what it would be like when this wild physical passion, which I had to admit existed between us, was finished—for by its very nature it must end. One could not build a future on such a flimsy structure. It was like building a house on shifting sands. One needed the solid rock of friendship, love, trust. . . .

  Now I was thinking of Toby. There would be a letter waiting for me when I returned.

  At last I slept and I dreamed that hands were about my neck strangling me. They were soft hands, lustrous hands; they had begun by caressing me, soothing me, and then suddenly they pressed closer and closer. I could not breathe. I started up in terror. My hands went to my throat. I was touching the pearls.

  Of course it was the pearls that had made me dream.

  What nonsense to have made me wear them as I slept. But I saw his point and it was characteristic of him. He had wanted me to wear the pearls because he had known that I hated to. He had made me wear them while he had taken me against my will. They were a s'inbol of his power over me ... a halter that is put about the neck of a slave.

  No, I was romancing. He had enjoyed first making me aware of his outrageous villainy and proving to me that even then he was inesistible to me. That had been his object in deluding me into thinking he had kidnaped the boy. Then afterward, having proved to me that he could arouse me to passion no matter how I despised him, he had told me the truth.

  It was a sort of war between us; and war is not the way to build up a happy family life.

  How different it would have be
en if Toby had come back earlier, before Clinton and my father had arrived. Then we should have carried on that unique relationship which had been ours in Denton Square.

  He had come too late. That was the essence of my future.

  Clinton was in high spirits. Each evening while we were away I had worn the pearls. He had insisted and I had to confess that they held a certain fascination for me.

  Since my dream about them it had seemed to me that they had a certain life of their own. I used to wonder about all the people who had worn them before me. There were those in the gallery at the Grange and even before that the wives of the powerful men of Kandy.

  My mother had said they were unlucky. The artist who had painted her in them had killed himself; Clytie had got into difficulties, had sold them and gone to the length of staging a kidnaping of her own son in order to deceive people into thinking they had been stolen.

  Pearls that had meant so much to so many people must have a life of their own.

  I often studied the intricate clasp, which I found difficult to do up and take off, which Clinton said was right since it was a safety catch and should not come undone easily.

  The green eye of the serpent flashed with what seemed like malevolence. I examined the little receptacle inside where poison had been placed by one of the owners who wanted to get rid of his wife. I believed it was possible that he could have done it.

  If those pearls could speak, what tales they would have to tell!

  They were regaining their luster. Clinton said they were becoming sleek and satisfied as though they drew some nourishment from the people who wore them.

  "You have the neck for pearls," he said. "They obviously like you. Look at the skin of those pearls! Look at the orient! Can you see the difference since you started to wear them? I have pictured

  you in them so often, Sarah. It gives me great pleasure to see you wearing them."

  He hked to fasten them on my neck himself, to hold them and examine them as I wore them. There was a gleam in his eyes when he did this as though something he had wanted for a long time had come to pass.

  I had seen the pearl fishers come back with their prizes; I had watched the opening of the oysters and marveled at what I saw inside the shells. I had gently touched the layers of mother of pearl; and I had seen those excrescences which were of such beauty and value.

  I had watched the sorting of the pearls. I had caught the enthusiasm. And when the season was over we returned to the plantation.

  I was very disappointed to learn that there was no letter from Toby awaiting me. There was one from Aunt Martha, which I read rather impatientiy. All seemed the same as ever at the Grange. Mabel had had two colds during the winter but Aunt Martha was her usual hale and hearty self. I could never think of Aunt Martha without seeing her creeping along the corridor to my mother's bedroom and helping her to her death.

  The day after my return I drove the dog cart over to Ashing-ton's. Celia was there with Clytie and I knew she would now come back with me.

  They were in the garden with Ralph, who gave me an exuberant welcome. When I looked at my beautiful, dainty half sister I simply could not believe that she had been in the plot to kidnap Ralph. I longed to be alone with her so that I could ask her outright whether what Clinton had told me was true.

  The opportunity came during the morning. She had gone to her room and I followed her there.

  "Clytie," I said, "I have to speak to you."

  She looked very startied and I went on quickly: "Clinton has given me the pearls. He says they are the Ashington Pearls and that he bought them from you."

  She put her hand to the dressing table as though to steady herself and then sat down.

  "It's true then?" I persisted.

  She nodded. "Oh, Sarah, I was so worried. You see we were in such difficulties. We could never have told our father. He wouldn't have understood. Seth . . ."

  "Seth had been gambling in the Kandy Qub, hadn't he?"

  She nodded. "That and other things. We did not know what to do. He had borrowed on my expectations from the plantation. This sounds horrible but everyone knew how sick our father was. It seemed certain that one day Seth and I would inherit. Oh' Sarah, do please try to understand."

  "I do," I said. "You were in difficulties and Clinton came along. He gave you a price for the necklace and a replica of the original so that you need not let it be known that you had sold it."

  She nodded. "It would have worked. Our father's eyesight was failing. He could hardly see at all, you know. He wouldn't have been able to detect it. . . . Oh, I know it was wrong. It was not mine to sell really. I was so relieved when it was left to me. I felt that made it better."

  "I can understand all you did, Clytie," I said. "I should probably have done the same in your place. Clinton should never have suggested it."

  "It seemed a solution. It was the only solution."

  "And so the necklace which was placed under the tree was the replica."

  She hung her head and said quietly: "I have it here. It was brought back. I have hidden it away. Sheba helped. She would do anything for me. I had to do it, Sarah. I should have been discovered. Reggie Glendenning would have seen at once. I hated wearing it. I was always terrified when I did. I was afraid someone would detect the fraud. Some of the people here know a great deal about pearls."

  "It was an ingenious plan, Clytie."

  "It was easy really. I knew no harm would come to Ralph. We arranged it so that he went off with Ashraf and he stayed the night with some of Sheba's relations. He had been there before for the night. We made him used to it. He didn't think there was anything unusual about it. He had no idea what we were doing. So you have the necklace now. I guessed Clinton would give it to

  you. It has worked out as it should really. You have the necklace and the plantation but you have said that in time it shall come to us . . . for Ralph. I think that was how it should have been, although as the elder the necklace would come to me. But look at us, Sarah. You are the one who should have the Ashington Pearls. They must look fine on you. It is fate working out. That's how I see it."

  "I shall never be able to wear them in public . . . even if I wanted to."

  "They would be recognized of course. But you will wear them sometimes. I used to slip them on when I was alone. They seemed to weigh me down. It was too big for me, that necklace."

  *Tm glad I know the truth about it at last."

  "Sarah, I'm sorry. Please understand why I did it."

  "Of course I do."

  "And now you have it. It's worth a fortune."

  "Clinton did not give you what it was worth, I know."

  "He gave us enough to pay our debts and something to help us along for the years to come. It was wonderful to have that burden lifted. We are grateful to Clinton, Sarah. And then he gave us this replica which is so good a copy that only experts can tell the difference. It's all there, even the clasp and the miniature poison container in the serpent's mouth."

  "Clytie," I said, "you look disturbed. You must compose yourself. We don't want anyone to know that you have been upset."

  She put her arms round me. "Oh, Sarah," she said. "I'm so glad you know about this. It's been such a burden to me."

  I kissed her. "I understand everything," I assured her. "Dear Clytie, please don't fret any more. Everything will be all right. You'll see."

  When we rejoined Celia she was with Ralph and I was a little startled to see Cobbler curled up at their feet

  Celia looked from me to Clytie and I wondered whether she guessed that we were emerging from an emotional scene.

  As we rode back in the dog cart, she said to me: "I shall be sorry to leave here, but I have heard from my cousin. She is not very well and wants me to join her. She has taken a house in the South of France."

  "Oh, Celia, must you go!"

  "It has been wonderful to see you again, Sarah, and you seem so much better now. There was a time ... a little while ago . . ."

 
"Yes, I know."

  ''You did seem a little . . . strange . . . distraught ... as though you were frightened of something."

  I hesitated. The sight of Cobbler lying on the grass had brought back vivid memories. I did not want to talk about them. Coming back to the plantation had brought a strong reminder of all that had happened and the remembrance that someone had been playing tricks on me.

  Now that I was back I was going to find out who, and one of the conditions I had imposed on myself was not to take anyone into my confidence about this. . . not even Celia.

  I said lightly: "Oh, I think I was a little run-down. The trip to the pearl fisheries has done me good."

  Tike SeirpeM'

  I often wore the pearls. They exerted a fascination over me. I would take them out of their case and hold them against me and the desire to clasp them around my neck was irresistible.

  They were changing. They glowed with a new life. When I laid them against my skin they seemed to caress me. It was almost as though they wanted to belong to me.

  They were in my dreams . . . vague, hazy dreams . . . when they crept from their case and put themselves about my neck. Ridiculous dreams they were, but how real they were in my sleep. Once there was a recurrence of that which I had had tiie first night I wore them. Then I thought they crept tighter and tighter around my neck and were trying to strangle me. This fantasy was clearly the result of all the stories I had heard about this heirloom as well as the drama of the mock kidnaping and that never-to-be-forgotten night when Clinton had given them to me and let me believe the worst possible of him.

  The pearls fascinated me; they repelled me too; and I was unable to resist them. I sometimes thought they were symbolic of my relationship with Clinton.

  What I could not understand was that there was no letter from Toby. Mine to him had been a plea for help and it seemed that he ignored it. Perhaps he had moved away from the address to which I had sent it and it had failed to reach him. The thought threw me into a panic. I had the dream once more. The pearls were around my neck, caressing my skin, taking something from me which enriched them . . . they crept closer and closer. They were strangling me. They had changed. They had become mail-

 

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