The only light came from the numerous wall candles in the hall. So it was dark and gloomy in the gallery and I told myself that I had been foolish to hope to discover anything in this poor light.
I leaned over the balcony looking down on the hall, of which I had a good view apart from that section immediately below.
And as I stood there the door opened and a shape loomed on the threshold. For a moment I thought it was the monk and, in spite of my belief that I wanted to see him, a shudder of fear ran through me.
But this was no monk. It was a man in ordinary evening dress and when he whispered: "Why ... Catherine!" I recognised the voice of Dr.
Smith.
He went on speaking very quietly. " What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't sleep."
He came into the gallery and we stood side by side near the balcony.
He put his fingers to Us lips. " There is someone down there," he whispered.
I was surprised that he should consider that a matter for secrecy as there were so many guests in the house, and was about to say so, when be seized my arm and drew me closer to the balcony.
Then I heard voices.
" Damans! We're alone at last." The sound of that voice gave me a pain which was almost physical. It was not only the words but the tone in which they were spoken which was so significant. For it was both tender and passionate, and only rarely had I heard that timbre in the voice. It was Simon who was speaking.
Then Damans: " I am afraid. My father would not be pleased."
In these matters, Damans, we do not please our fathers, but ourselves.
"
" But to-night he is here. Perhaps he is watching us now."
Simon laughed and at that moment they moved towards the centre of the hall. He had his arm about her.
I turned away, not wanting to look. I was afraid they might be aware of us. My humiliation would have been complete if Simon knew that I had looked on at his flirtation with Damaris.
As I walked towards the door of the gallery, the doctor was still beside me; and together we went up the stairs to the first floor. He seemed preoccupied, scarcely aware of me, and [ had no doubt that he was very worried about his daughter.
"I shall forbid her to see that ... philanderer!" he said.
I did not answer; I had clasped my hands together and touched the ring which but a short time ago had seemed to have such a significance.
" Perhaps it would be useless to forbid her," I suggested.
" She would have to obey me," he retorted; and I saw the veins, prominent at his. temples. I had never known him so agitated before and that seemed to mark the depth of his affection for her. I warmed to him because such parental concern was exactly what I had so sadly missed during the absences of my real father.
"He is overbearing," I said, and my own voice was very angry. " I believe he would always find a way of getting what he wanted."
" I am sorry," said the doctor. " I am forgetting you. You should be resting, I thought you had retired to do that. What made you come to the gallery?"
" I couldn't sleep. ! was too excited, I suppose."
" At least," he said, " this is a warning to us both."
"What made you come to the gallery?" I asked-suddenly.
" I knew they were down there together."
" I see. And you would frown on a match between them?"
"A match I He would not offer her marriage. The old 227 lady has other plans for him. He'll marry her choice and it won't be my daughter. Besides ... she is for Luke."
" Is she? She did not seem to think so tonight."
" Luke is devoted to her. If only they were older they would be married by now. It would be a tragedy if she were ruined by this...
"
" You do not think very highly of his honour."
"His honour! You have not been here long enough to know his reputation in the neighbourhood. But I am keeping you and it grows late. I shall be taking Damaris home immediately. Good night, Catherine."
He took my hand. It was the one on which was the Redvers ring.
I went to my room. I was so upset that I forgot to lock my doors that night. But there were no midnight visitors, and I was alone with my emotions.
That night I learned the true nature of these emotions, and I blamed myself for allowing them to become so strong, disguised as they were by the semblance of dislike. I had been angry with him because I thought he did not esteem me enough. I had been hurt because I wanted that esteem.
That night I learned that hatred grows out of the strength of one's own emotions; and that when a woman comes close to hating a man she should be watchful, for it means that her feelings are deeply engaged.
He is a cheat, I told myself, as I tried to shut out the echo of his voice talking to Damaris. He is a philanderer who amuses himself with any female who is handy. I happened to be at hand. What a fool I am.
And how we hate those who make us aware of our own folly. Hate and love. There are times when the two can run side by side.
I did not sleep well that night and it must have been nearly morning when I was awakened by Mary-Jane. It was dark and she was carrying a lighted candle.
"Mary-Jane!" I said.
"What is the time?"
" It's six o'clock, madam."
" But why ... ?"
" I wanted to tell you yesterday, but with all the Christmas 228 preparations I didn't get a chance. I only found it yesterday. It was while we were getting the hall ready."
I sat up in bed and cried: " Mary-Jane, you have found the way out of the house?"
" I think so, madam. It is in the gallery ... in the cupboard. There are two floorboards there with a gap between them, enough to get your fingers in. I thought there was something not usual about them so I put my fingers down and gripped one of the boards. It lifted up easy.
Then I saw the great black space below, so I got a candle and looked down. There are some stairs leading down. That's all, madam. William was calling me then, so I let the board fall back and didn't say anything . thinking I'd come straight to you to tell you. But then I had to go to the kitchens and help and I couldn't get another chance, but I've been thinking about it all night. "
" Mary-Jane," I said, " we must look into this."
" I thought you'd want to."
" There's no one up yet?"
" Only the servants, madam, and they're not in this wing. They'll be coming to do the hall in half an hour's time though."
" Well, we must move quickly," I said. " We're going to have a look at those stairs now."
" Shouldn't you dress yourself first, madam?"
" No, I can't wait," I said. " I'll put on my cloak over my nightgown."
So together Mary-Jane and I left my bedroom and quietly made our way to the minstrels' gallery. I was afraid all the time that Luke would suddenly appear, but Mary-Jane was with me, and it would be difficult for him to do me any harm.
I was excited, for this was the proof I needed. The only person in this house whom I could trust was Mary-Jane, and we were together in this.
The house was very quiet, and for that reason even my slippered tread seemed noisy. But we reached the gallery and no one appeared.
Mary-Jane very gently shut the door, and I held the candle while she opened the cupboard and showed me the floorboards. She knelt and lifted one of these up and, as she had explained, it came up easily; evidently it had been cunningly made to act as a trapdoor.
I leaned over the aperture, holding the candle. I could see the flight of steps which she had told me about. I longed to 229 go down there, but it would be necessary to take a short leap on to the top step and I dared not trust myself to do that.
But Mary-Jane was lithe and slim. I turned to her.
" You get through," I said. " And I'll hand you the candle. Just look round and tell me what you see down there."
She had turned a little pale, but she was the sort who would despise what she would call th
e gormless; and after that second's hesitation she lowered herself through the aperture and when she was standing on the steps I handed her the candle.
She said: " It seems like a big room down there. It's very cold."
"Just have a quick look round," I ordered.
"Then we'D try to find the way in from the Abbey side."
There was silence for a while. I peered down. I could see her gingerly descending the stairs, and sharply I warned her to be careful.
" Oh aye," she assured me. " I'm safe on me feet, madam."
I heard her voice again when she had descended the steps. " I can see a light in the distance. That must be the way out. I'll just have a quick look."
My heart was beating madly. I wanted to be down there with her, but I dared not risk slipping on those stone steps. I glanced over my shoulder. I could not rid myself of the feeling that someone was watching us. But there was no one there; there was no sound at all in that silent house.
I heard a sudden call from Mary-Jane. " I've found some thing, madam."
" I can't see you now." I called. " Where are you?"
Her voice sounded faint. " The candle nearly went out, madam."
" Come back now, Mary-Jane. Bring what you've found if you can carry it."
" But, madam ..."
" Come back," I said authoritatively.
Then I saw the candle again and breathed more freely.
Mary-Jane appeared on the steps; she was holding the candle in one hand and something under her arm. She handed the bundle up to me and I knew at once that it was I the monk's robe. I took the candle from her and in a second or so Mary-Jane had scrambled through the aperture and was safe in the gallery.
" I was alarmed when you disappeared from sight." I said. 230 " I wasn't all that brave me self madam, down there, Qwf. me. the shivers."
" Why, you are cold, Mary Jane
" It's cold down there, madam. I found the robe though."
" Let's go along to my room. We don't want anyone to find us here."
We let down me floorboard of the cupboard and satisfied ourselves that it showed no signs of having been disturbed; and taking the robe with us we went back to my room.
When we were there Mary-Jane put the robe about her and I shuddered.
"Take it off," I said.
"We must guard this. If anyone dare say that I've seen visions because my mind is disturbed, we can prove that it was not visions I saw."
" Shouldn't we tell someone? Shouldn't we show them the robe?"
The day before I should have said: "Yes. We will tell Mr. Redvers."
But I could no longer say that. I no longer trusted Simon, and if I could not trust Simon I trusted nobody.
" We will say nothing of this for the moment, Mary Jane t said. " We have the evidence here. I will put it in my wardrobe and the door shall be locked so that no one can steal it. "
" And then, madam."
I looked at the clock over the fireplace and saw that it was seven o'clock.
" You will be missed, if you stay here much longer. I will go back to bed. You will bring my breakfast in the ordinary way. I shall want very little to eat. Bring my hot water earlier. I want to think what I ought to do next."
" Yes, madam," she said.
And she left me.
Ruth came to my room to see how I was.
" You look exhausted," she said. " Yesterday was too much for you."
" I do feel tired," I admitted.
" I should stay in your room all day. I'll keep them away. Then perhaps you'll feel well enough to join us this evening There will only be the family; and Simon and Hagar will be leaving early to-morrow morning. The carriage always comes for them sharp at nine-thirty on the day after Boxing Day."
" Yes. I should like to rest awhile," I said.
All that day I lay on my bed and thought about the events 231 which had led up to my discovery of the robe. I went over everything, beginning with my meeting with Gabriel and Friday. Gabriel knew there had been an attempt on his life in the ruins, and he was afraid. He had hoped that I would be able to help him--at least there would be two of us to fight whatever threatened him. Then there was the night before he died, when Friday had heard someone in the corridor. It would have been that night when Gabriel met his death, but for Friday.
Friday had obviously been killed so that he could not again give the warning. Sarah knew this and had conveyed it on her tapestry. How much more did she know? So Gabriel had died and I had been of little interest to the murderer until it was disclosed that I was to have a child. The idea to make me seem mad must have come when Dr. Smith thought it his duty to tell the family that there was a Catherine Corder in Worstwhistle.
What a diabolical mind was behind that plot! I did not believe the idea was to send me to Worstwhistle, but to build up a case of insanity against me and then possibly stage my suicide before the child was born.
Why was I thinking of the plot in the past tense? It still existed.
And when my would-be murderer discovered that his robe was missing, what would he do? Perhaps he would think there was need for prompt action.
I was undecided. Perhaps I should go back to Glen House. But how could I do this in secret? If I announced my intention I could expect immediate action. I was certain that I should not be allowed to leave this house.
I thought of them . Luke and Simon. I tried not to think of Simon.
It was Luke, I told myself. It must be Luke. And Damaris was helping them.
Damaris! But had I not learned something last night of the relationship between Damaris and Simoni My thoughts went round and round like a mouse in a cage. I had the robe; I should have been triumphant if I could have shared my knowledge with Simon.
But what could I ever share with Simon now?
I was wishing again, as I had wished when I let the water from the Knaresborough Well trickle on my hands: " Not Simon. Oh, please, not Simon!"
I joined the family at dinner. Simon was attentive and appeared anxious on my behalf and, although I had told myself that I would give no sign of my changed feelings 232 towards him, I could not help a coolness creeping into my manner.
He was next to me at dinner, which we took in the hall as we had on the previous night.
" I am disappointed," he told me, " that I've had no opportunity of being with you to-day. I had planned that we should take a drive together ... you, my grandmother and myself."
"Would not the weather have been too cold for her?"
" Perhaps, but she would not admit it. She, too, was disappointed."
" You should have made up a party with the others."
" You know that would not have been the same thing at all."
" Perhaps Damans would have accompanied you."
He laughed, and lowered his voice. " I have something to tell you about that."
I looked at him interrogatively.
" Because," he added, " you obviously noticed. It is often necessary to go by devious ways to reach a certain goal."
" You are talking in riddles."
"Which is not inappropriate. We have a riddle to solve."
I tamed away because I fancied Luke was trying to listen to our conversation; but fortunately Aunt Sarah was talking loudly about Christmases of the past, and although she was repeating what she had said yesterday she seemed determined that no one should miss a word.
After dinner we retired to the first-floor drawing-room, and there were no other visitors that night. I talked to Sir Matthew and would not leave his side, although I could see that Simon was growing exasperated with me.
I left the company early and had not been in my room more than five minutes when there was a knock on the door.
" Come in," I called, and Sarah entered.
She smiled at me conspiratorially and whispered as though to excuse the intrusion: "Well, you were interested. That's why ..."
" What do you mean?" I asked.
" I've started to fill it in."
My thoughts immediately went to the half-finished piece of tapestry which she had showed me when I was last in her room. She was watching me and her face seemed suddenly full of knowledge.
" Can I see it?" y^ " Of course. That's why 1 came. Will you come back with me?"
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