The Irish Witch

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘Ever your loving friend,

  ‘Georgina.’

  As he finished reading, Mary said, ‘I thought her to be at Stillwaters, so drove down there this morning, only to be told that she left for London the day before yesterday and …’

  ‘And her letter makes it obvious that when you found her at Kew House you told her about Charles.’

  ‘Of course. It was to do so that I sought her out.’

  Roger had told Mary that the news of Charles’s capture was to be kept secret, in order to spare Georgina. Her letter showed that she had kept to their agreement to speak of it to no-one, so that Susan should not learn of it. Coldly, he said:

  ‘Did it not occur to you that telling Georgina would cause her great grief and anxiety?’

  ‘Well … yes,’ Mary faltered. ‘But to appeal to her was my only hope of preventing you from leaving me.’

  Obviously Georgina had said nothing to Mary of her vision in the crystal, and to write that letter, foregoing the one possible chance of saving her son must have cost her dear. Yet it was typical of the generous and courageous spirit that Roger loved in her. Slowly he tore the letter across, again and again, let the pieces flutter to the ground, and said harshly:

  ‘Madame, your callous act has failed to achieve its purpose. I do not take orders from Georgina. For your information, in three days’ time I am sailing for Spain.’

  Then he turned his back on Mary and strode into the house.

  An hour later, her eyes red from weeping, she came down for dinner. As Roger did not appear, she thought he must have failed to hear the gong, so told the parlourmaid to sound it again. For the second time that day the girl showed surprise, then faltered:

  ‘Did you not know, m’lady? The master ordered his horse and half an hour since rode away.’

  When Roger reached London he still felt very bitter about Mary; for he considered she had betrayed his trust and taken a step which, had his beloved Georgina not already known about Charles, would have caused her great grief. Within a few minutes of entering Kew House he had even greater reason for his anger. Georgina was in her boudoir and, as the door closed behind the footman who had shown him up to her, she said:

  ‘I take it you have had my letter?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes; it is about that I am come.’

  ‘So I imagined. I hope you have given that wife of yours a beating for the damage she has done.’

  ‘A callous act, yes; but damage, no. You already knew about Charles.’

  ‘Certainly. But Susan did not, and she was with me when the little fool blurted out about your going to Spain, and the reason for it.’

  ‘What?’ Roger roared.

  ‘Yes; and it was for her sake we agreed to keep the matter secret. The poor child was distraught. Driven frantic. Naturally, she still knows nothing of my vision, but she imagines Charles to be in some noisome cell, living on meagre prison fare. I had a terrible hour with her. She is now in bed, sleeping I trust, for I gave her a potent draught.’

  ‘Hell’s bells! Mary told me naught of this. To show my disapproval of her conduct, I left the house without telling her I was riding up to London, but I had intended to return tonight. Now, devil take me, for this I’ll leave her to stew until I return from Spain.’

  ‘But, Roger, you had my letter. And what I said in it I meant. How could I refrain from taking pity on her? ’Tis true that she was thoughtless in showing no consideration for my feelings, but not wicked. You must go back, forgive her and endeavour to put this whole wretched business out of your mind.’

  ‘I’ll be damned if I will. When I had to tell her yestere’en that I was going abroad again, I was mightily unhappy for her. But after what she has done to Susan, I am so no longer. I sail from Greenwich three days hence. Till then I’ll stay with Droopy Ned.’

  Georgina shook her head. ‘I’ve long since learned ’tis useless to argue with you. And, sorry as I am for her, ’twill comfort me greatly to know that you are doing what you can to save my boy. But if you wish to avoid further wrangles with your wife, you had best not stay with Droopy. ’Tis the first place she will go to look for you. I suggest you should stay here.’

  ‘I thank you, dear one, but I’ll not do that. You’re right that she will seek me at Droopy’s. Failing to find me there, she will next come to you. She already suspects that there is more than friendship between us, and I am greatly averse to strengthening that impression, for both your sake and hers. I have it, though. The perfect hide-out. Your studio.’

  ‘By all means. But I’ll not go out there with you. To disport ourselves as we have so oft done there one needs a carefree mind.’

  Roger sighed. ‘Alas, you are right. Without it our bodies would take no real joy of one another.’

  ‘You will find your chamber robe and toilet things in their usual place, and I’ll send out a footman to valet you. Also, if you wish to lie low there, one of my under-chefs to cook your meals.’

  ‘I thank you, but I’ll not need the last, as I’ll eat out. I would, though, that tomorrow morning, dressed in plain clothes so that it will not be known that he is one of your people, the footman should take a coach out to Richmond with a letter to old Dan, telling him what I require packed for my voyage, then return with my valises.’

  After a by no means cheerful supper with Georgina, Roger rode out to Kensington, stabled and fed his horse, then undressed. He had never slept alone in her big bed and, as he was about to get into it, he was suddenly conscious of a feeling that to do so would be a sacrilege against their abiding love, so he spent the night in the room that buxom Jane occupied when her mistress was staying there.

  In the morning the footman arrived with a supply of food, and cooked breakfast for him, then set off for Richmond with the list of things that Roger wished Dan to pack. By midday he was at White’s and sent a note to Droopy, asking him to look in at the Club.

  An hour later Droopy joined him. Georgina’s guess had been right. Mary had arrived at ten o’clock, and poured out her woes to Judith, who was still trying to comfort her when Droopy came downstairs. Both he and Judith had quite truthfully assured her that they had no idea where Roger was, and offered to put her up until she had news of him. She had been grateful, but declined, saying that she would next try Kew House and that, if Roger was not there, would go home and stay there as—not knowing that he had had his things collected that morning—she felt sure he would return to get them before leaving England.

  When Droopy had been told of the latest developments, he shook his head. ‘I think you’re wrong, Roger, to treat her so harshly. ’Tis true that by her impetuosity she has caused young Susan needless suffering; but remember that she knows nothing of this threat to Charles’s life, only that he is a prisoner. It is natural that she should resent your leaving her, solely to save the boy from a few extra weeks’ captivity.’

  ‘How could I tell her of the vision, Ned? Had I done so, I would have had to admit to having been secretly with Georgina. That would have made them enemies for life, and might have wrecked our marriage for good. In any case, it would have meant that every time in the future that I spent a night away from her, there would have been a most awful rumpus; and that I will not have.’

  ‘I take your point. Nonetheless, ’tis clear that what she did was done on account of the great love she bears you. I pray you think on that.’

  ‘I will,’ Roger promised. But as soon as Droopy had left him to keep an appointment, his thoughts reverted to his poor young daughter and the misery Mary had so selfishly brought upon her.

  On the two days that followed, he killed much of the time by taking long walks through parts of the metropolis he did not usually frequent. It was several years since he had done so, and he was sadly shocked by the change that had taken place. Many of the shops were closed and shuttered, their owners having gone bankrupt. Groups of men stood about on street corners, obviously out of work; their clothes were ragged and they looked half-starved. Even many of the
more prosperous citizens lacked spring in their step and had gloomy expressions.

  It brought home to him the fact that Napoleon’s Continental System was at last having its effect, just as the British blockade of the Continent was ruining the French. Both nations were utterly weary of the war. That England would never give in he was fully convinced, but the sight of so much suffering was heartbreaking. He could only pray that Austria would join the Coalition and, in the autumn, finally defeat the terrible Corsican egoist who for so many years had inflicted widespread misery on the peoples of a dozen nations.

  On the morning of Sunday, the 25th, Roger had his valises loaded into a hired coach, lavishly tipped the footman who had looked after him, and drove to Kew House to say good-bye to Georgina, as had been arranged when he last saw her. To his amazement and intense annoyance, he was told that both Her Grace and Miss Brook were no longer there. Georgina had left a scribbled note for him, to the effect that an emergency had necessitated Susan and herself leaving for the country. She added that she would be constantly thinking of him and praying for his success and safe return.

  Greatly disgruntled, he wondered what possible emergency could have caused her to let him leave England without a farewell meeting. As he got back into the coach and ordered the driver to take him to Amesbury House, it occurred to him that she might have received news that her old Duke had died, and felt it incumbent on her to set off for Newmarket immediately. If so, that would be all to the good as, on his return, she would be free to be with him more frequently. But they could not marry, for he now had Mary.

  At the thought of Mary, he sighed. For the past few days he had determinedly put her out of his thoughts, but now he wondered if, by not returning to Richmond even to say good-bye, he had not punished her too severely. After all, Droopy had been right in that what she had done she had been driven to by love. Well, it was not too late to send her an affectionate message, and reassure her that it was not his intention to leave her permanently.

  In the courtyard of Amesbury House, Droopy’s coach was waiting as, whenever possible, he saw Roger off. Roger had his luggage transferred to it, then went inside the house, to find Droopy waiting for him with a bottle of fine Bordeaux wine that had just been decanted.

  When the two friends were half-way through it, Roger said:

  ‘About Mary, Ned. I did not take your advice, and now regret it. Please see her for me and tell her I’m sorry I pained her so; also that she has no need to worry about money. Yesterday, when I filled my money belt with gold at Hoare’s Bank, I transferred ample funds to her account for her to draw upon.’

  Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to Greenwich. As the coach pulled up at the jetty off which the frigate Pompey lay, Roger noticed that another coach was standing there. When he got out, he saw to his delight that it was Georgina’s. At the same moment, followed by Susan, she emerged from it. His daughter ran forward and threw her arms round his neck. Having fondly embraced her, he took Georgina’s hand, kissed it and said with a smile:

  ‘You’ve played a pretty trick on me, and I suppose driving out to Greenwich could be termed going to the country. My departure, though, is hardly an emergency. But no matter. I am overjoyed to see you.’

  She returned his smile. ‘Nothing would have deterred me from bidding you farewell. But this is an emergency. At least I thought it so, knowing you to be about to cut off your nose to spite your face.’

  He gave her a puzzled look. ‘What mean you? I fail to understand.’

  Droopy had led Susan aside; so, as Georgina took Roger’s arm and led him towards her coach, he guessed that his friend must be in on this little plot, whatever it might be. On reaching her coach, Georgina pulled open the door, stepped back and gave Roger a swift push which sent him sprawling on the step, with his head inside the coach.

  The interior was in semi-darkness but, after a second, he realised that the female figure sitting back in the far corner was Mary. It struck him at once that the women had thought up this trick to stop him, at the last moment, from going to Spain.

  Mary leaned forward and spoke in a trembling voice, ‘Roger, dear love, I am truly repentant for the unhappiness I caused Georgina and Susan. They have both forgiven me, and …’

  ‘And laid this trap in an effort to make me change my mind about leaving England,’ he cut in angrily.

  She shook her head. ‘No, not that. We know that none of us could change your stubborn mind. Dear Georgina brought me here only that I might beg your forgiveness too, before you depart.’

  ‘Ah, that’s a very different matter,’ he exclaimed joyfully. ‘And I am truly glad she did so. But, Mary, it is I who should ask forgiveness. It was only out of love that you tried to stop me, and I should not have held it against you. I am ashamed now to have treated you so brutally these past few days. I should not be long in Spain. With luck I’ll be away only a few weeks, and on my return we will resume our happy life together.’

  Three-quarters of an hour later, Droopy and the three ladies, all of whom he loved so dearly, waved him away from the jetty, and he went aboard Pompey.

  Captain Durrant proved a pleasant, youngish man and, Pompey being his first command, he showed Roger over the ship with pride. Roger had realised that the advance of Wellington’s army during the present campaign would make it unnecessary to go all the way down to Lisbon and had expected to be landed at Corunna; but Captain Durrant told him that Bilbao had recently been liberated, and it was to that port they were bound, thus shortening Roger’s land journey across northern Spain by several days.

  So far it had not been a particularly good summer, but the weather had improved during the past week, and it was a sunny afternoon when Pompey dropped down the Thames.

  For the next few days the sky remained almost cloudless, and the sea calm, so for once Roger was not sick when crossing the Bay of Biscay. On the 29th, they entered Bilbao harbour and when he went ashore the heat was grilling. On enquiring of a passing British officer, he learned that General Graham had set up his headquarters in the castle, so he had himself driven there in a carrozza and sent up his name.

  Graham, Sir Thomas Picton and General Hill were the Duke’s principal commanders, and Roger had met them all in Lisbon in the days when the British Army had been entrenched behind the lines of Torres Vedras, so the General received him as an old acquaintance.

  Roger made no mention of Charles to him, but simply that he had to go to the Duke’s headquarters, and would be grateful for facilities to do so. Graham readily agreed to provide him with a horse, and an escort of Dragoons as a precaution against his being attacked by French deserters, hundreds of whom were hiding in the mountains. He then offered Roger accommodation in the castle for the night, and said he would look forward to seeing him at dinner.

  Over the meal Roger learnt from Graham and his Staff officers the events that had led up to Wellington’s decisive victory five weeks earlier at Vittoria.

  In the first place, two ill-judged decisions by Napoleon had helped to make it possible. Encouraged by the successes of their compatriots in other parts of Spain the guerrillas in Biscay, Navarre and Aragon had greatly increased their numbers and redoubled their efforts. Under their Chief, Mina, they became such a serious threat to the French army’s line of communications that the Emperor had allotted forty thousand men, under the command of General Clausel—who had brilliantly saved Marshal Marmont’s army from total destruction after he had been seriously wounded at Salamanca—to clear northern Spain of these great bands of fanatical patriots. This had resulted in weakening the main army of King Joseph to a point which, at last, gave Wellington superiority in numbers.

  Napoleon’s other blunder had been to recall the Duke’s most efficient opponent, Marshal Soult, leaving as the King’s senior adviser the elderly and ailing Marshal Jourdan—whose sole claim to fame was a General of the Revolution at the Battle of Fleurus where the enemy, when attacking up a hill and being met by a heavy cannonade, had panicked.
>
  But it was the Duke’s clever strategy that had been the main cause of this outstanding victory. He had led the French to believe that Braganza and not Ciudad Rodrigo was his base and that he meant to attempt to outflank their left wing, whereas he had pushed Graham’s corps up along the coast on their right. Owing to the country there being very mountainous, Jourdan had thought such a move unlikely and detailed only light forces to hold it. Time after time they had been pushed back, necessitating withdrawals by the outflanked main army. The British had advanced five hundred miles in six weeks, until Jourdan had felt compelled to make a stand on the Zadorra river.

  Marshal Suchet, who commanded the other main army in Spain, could not come to Jourdan’s assistance as he had all he could do to hold down Catalonia and prevent the advance of a British force under General Sir John Murray that had landed, in Valencia, from Sicily; neither could General Clausel, as the King had recalled him from the north too late.

  As the battle was joined, Graham had again driven back the French right and succeeded in cutting off their retreat by the great highway leading to San Sebastian and Bayonne. Meanwhile, Picton and Hill had forced the French centre and left to fall back on the Zadorra and the town of Vittoria. Once the French were broken they had no way of escape except through the town, then along a narrow, mountainous road that led to Pamplona. Under the bombardment of the British guns, the town had become a shambles and the retreat a rout of men running for their lives, pursued by Hussars and Dragoons.

  The French were forced to abandon everything. The whole equipment of their army was captured, every single gun, hundreds of carriages laden with the loot of cities they had sacked, and one million pounds in their Paymasters’ chests. King Joseph fled on horseback, and when he reached Pamplona had only a single gold piece in his pocket.