by Joan Smith
"Thank you, sir,” I answered frigidly.
"Aye, a grand job. Any time ye want to try your hand at a bigger place ye know the offer's still open. Ye know where I mean,” he added waggishly, while every old cat in the room craned her neck forward to watch us. I realized by his speech that he was three sheets over. In the normal way, he would not have revealed having been turned off.
"I am quite content here, Squire,” I replied, with a little tact as I came to realize his condition A drunken lecher was all we needed!
"A fine lot of blunt ye've spent fixing up. That velvet settle didn't come with the place, nor them rich window hangings. No sir, there's been money spent here, plenty of it.” His sharp eyes looked around, picking out every new item I had added with my dishonest earnings.
All this was said in a carrying voice, and it was all news to the villagers. With the rectory having stood vacant for so long, no one had any memory of its exact condition. “I can't think Andrew's three hundred gave ye so much class. And a new gown ye're wearing too—very fancy,” he added with a meaningful look. More than meaningful—menacing. He knew! Knew or at least suspected. Ganner must have told him.
My eyes flew to Elwood Ganner, Bart. He looked quickly away, indicating guilt. This was a complication unseen by me. Jemmie I knew I could trust, but for Porson to know! I was at his mercy, and I would sooner have been at the mercy of a fanged tiger.
"You forget I work as well, Squire,” I answered, with a smile intended to conciliate.
"I don't forget it, lass. It fair breaks my heart to see ye trudging home from that demmed school. What ye want is a good man.” He patted his yellow vest as he spoke. Here is the man you need, he implied.
There was more of the same, but I kept away from him as much as I could. Never was a hostess so solicitous of her guests. I whirled dizzily from chair to chair, pressing drinks and hors d'oeuvres on everyone. As soon as Porson took a step toward me, I was off on a new tack. All this with Williams observing me from between his jailers on the sofa, and the local women wrinkling their brows and discussing behind their fingers whether Andrew and I had not got a little more out of Papa's estate than we had claimed.
As I shoved the nuts and olives to Miss Simpson, Mrs. Everett came up to me, hinting ever so broadly that the chair beneath the window had used to stand beneath the window at Fern Bank, from which spot it had been illegally removed after the sale. Such was my state of agitation that I could think of no good setdown for her, and only denied it flatly.
"How odd. I wonder what can have happened to the one that used to be there then, for there is not a sign of it in the whole house."
I was goaded to suggest that the termites must have consumed it. This sent her back to her seat in a high state of dudgeon. “What a pretty Wedgwood plate, Mab. You never mean this came with the rectory?” Mrs. Trebar asked with a suspicious eye.
Lady Ann, Ganner's spouse, exhibited her breeding by asking not a single horrid question, but only complimenting me on a delightful evening. It was a perfectly ghastly evening for me. At one point Porson followed me right out of the room as I dashed to the kitchen to refill the nut dishes, and to see if Cook had culinary matters under control, a thing by no means certain.
"Eh, I hope I didn't offend ye, lass,” he said, slipping an arm around my waist. Both hands full, I could not well evade him, but wriggled free, only to be grabbed by his left arm coming at me from the other direction. Williams came bolting up from behind us. That must have looked mighty odd to the company too, for him to be on such terms that he felt free to visit the kitchen.
"Let me do that for you, Mab,” he said, taking the two empty dishes. Porson let his hands fall away, and I darted down the stairs as though the hounds of hell were after me, without the dishes, while Williams, bearing the empty dishes, led Porson back to the saloon.
When I returned, Williams had got him in a corner and was keeping him entertained. By salacious stories, I am sure, for the air was rent with the most lecherous laughter ever heard to echo in a minister's house. I noticed Mrs. Everett raise her brows and whisper to her companion, with a “what can you expect when you entertain merchants” look on her merchant's face, till Sir Elwood strolled over and joined them. He likes a joke as well as anyone, and is not too particular as to the color of it, I hear. When the majority of the gentlemen, even including Andrew, had drifted off to the joke corner, and the ladies were reduced to discussing their ailments and gowns with each other, I decided it was time to serve the meal.
What a relief, for the end of this ghastly night to be at last in sight. I dashed to the kitchen to see all was in order, and heard a tap at the backhouse door. The girls I had hired for the occasion were chattering so loudly among themselves that the sound was not overheard, but it filled me with apprehension.
Jemmie had orders not to bother contacting me this evening. With Crites and Williams in the salon, I felt the cargo must be safe. Crites was there by virtue of the most shameless hinting ever undertaken. He did everything but ask me if he could come, and as Miss Trebar was invited, I decided to allow one male commoner in as well. I was rather curious to see if I could detect any secret looks or whispers between him and Williams, wondering if they had come to terms, but there was nothing like that.
That Jemmie had come clearly spelled disaster. “Cream!” I exclaimed, and went to the door. None of the girls noticed that it was to the backyard I went for this commodity. It was dark and chilly in the yard without any pelisse. A frost-laden fog hovered in the distance, toward the sea, rising like steam from the ocean. Jemmie looked worried. “Aiken is home!’ he said, “Came down for Christmas without telling anyone, and has the stable full of cattle and two grooms. What's to do, miss?"
"Oh Lord, that's all I need.” The crypt was useless tonight, with the two revenuemen sitting smack above it. “The school. Use the school. Christmas holidays—it won't be used for a few days."
"That's what I figured. I've got the lads heading down that way but I thought I'd better check with you. Come on, Lady!” Lady, lured by the aromas from the kitchen, was sniffing at the back door.
I nipped smartly back inside, with my heart quaking so I feared an attack. But it was not really a disaster, only a nuisance. The disaster did not come till I entered my saloon.
Miss Aldridge was its cause. I sat beside her to try to calm myself, and the first words she uttered were, “I was just thinking, Mabel, the holidays are a good time to give the school a cleaning. I've spoken to Mrs. Wallace, and she's letting me have two of her girls to go over tomorrow and scrub the floors and tidy the place up."
"Not tomorrow!” I exclaimed, in a voice too loud. She looked at me oddly. “Oh, surely not the very day before Christmas, Miss Aldridge."
"It will give the girls a little extra pocket money. They can well use it at this time. It is all arranged, but I do not expect you to be there, my dear, as I know you have the Christmas baskets to see to. I shall go myself.” She smiled benignly, while I pinched my fingers, and ordered myself not to faint dead away on the spot, as I wanted to.
The only other calamities that could befall me were for Porson to announce me a smuggler, and Williams to clap me into irons. Thank God, neither of them occurred. The evening ground down to a halt at about 1 A.M. I could not be at all easy to see Williams escort Porson out the door, talking amiably and even mentioning having a run up to Holly Hill for some shooting one of these days. “Lovely party, Miss Anderson,” Williams said politely. Not another word. Not a compliment on my velvet gown and lace collar, or even the pearls.
"Aye, a right fancy do. Thankee, lass,” Porson seconded. “I'll be paying ye a Christmas visit.” Another speech to make the heart plummet. There was no lower place for it to go without leaving my body. It was already in my shoes. What form would the visit take? Marry me, or else...
At last the stragglers were herded out, with Mrs. Everett bringing up the rear, with a last pointed look at my chair beneath the window. Commoner! Andrew was herde
d off to bed with no trouble. One odd thing happened with regard to Andrew, however. He said, before retiring, “Miss Trebar is a pretty girl, ain't she, Mab?” That's all, but coming from Andrew it augured a whole breakthrough into the world of reality, for him to have realized girls existed, and some of them were pretty. Pity it could not have been Miss Simpson who awoke him to the fact.
"Edna, Aiken is back,” I said as soon as he was gone, with a mooning look on his face.
"Good God! How did you discover it?"
"Jemmie was here earlier on.” I outlined my orders, and Miss Aldridge's intentions.
"It will have to be moved. Is Jemmie coming back?"
In my rush and confusion, I had not thought to tell him to do so, but he did not fail me. He waited, shivering in the cold, till the kitchen girls were gone home, then tapped at the door. It was too much when he told me humbly that a barrel had broken open in the school, and was at that moment seeping into the floorboards, to make the school reek of brandy for several weeks. I felt like bawling.
"Leave it!” I said. “Just leave the broken barrel there. Nothing can be done to cover the traces by morning. but we must move the rest tonight, for Miss Aldridge is going to the school tomorrow. Get it out at once, Jemmie, and bring it here, to the crypt."
"I'll do that, miss. I kept a dozen of the lads around to see what you wanted done about trying to clean it up."
An hour later they came, each carrying that heavy load over his back. I had Jem pay them treble for their work. It took three trips. I would gladly have given them the whole of the profits to be out of my difficulty.
I literally did not close an eye that night. I had gotten myself into an impossible position. I always disliked using the crypt, as it indicated either Andrew or myself was involved in the business, but Jemmie had spread the story among his men that he had got hold of the key, and we knew nothing of it.
No, my chief concern was Porson. How was I to make him believe me innocent? Ganner would be in the church porch tomorrow with me, preparing the baskets for the poor. I must discover whether he knew anything of this, whether he had told Porson of my identity. I could see no other manner in which Porson could know. If Porson knew, I was finished. I would take my money and flee to America. I saw no other course open to me.
Chapter Ten
Next morning, the town was buzzing with talk of the brandy keg broken open in the schoolhouse. What gall of Miss Sage to use the school for his criminal work! Miss Aldridge was down on my head, reporting that she had been to Crites with the story and he was at that moment at the school, looking for tracks.
Tracks he would never find; the boys knew well how to cover their traces, and there was mercifully no betraying snow to give them away. Lord Aiken came riding into town to be told the story. He stopped by the church porch to slip a guinea into each basket, for though he was not a regular resident, he was a charitable man and did his bit to help us. He then went across the street to Owens’ store, looking for gloves.
It was soon clear that Wicklow had put two and two together. Not immediately clear, but within twenty-four hours, Mark reported that Williams was spending time scouting out Aiken's place. He had tumbled to it that this was the spot we had been using, and we could not use it again. Nor the school, of course, and I disliked very much using the crypt. With Porson suspecting me, I meant to keep the brandy well away from the church.
On top of it all, I had Porson to contend with, but not before I invited Elwood Ganner in for tea after issuing the poor baskets. I did not beat about the bush. It was too important to allow of any possible misunderstanding. “Did you tell Porson I am Miss Sage?” I asked baldly.
"Never in the world, Miss Anderson,” he assured me.
"He seems to know—suspect. His manner at the party led me to fear it. You're sure he doesn't know?"
Ganner hunched his hulking shoulders and looked sheepish, casting his blue eyes down to his hands. This was such an unusual attitude for the illustrious Sir Elwood to assume that I knew I did not have the whole story. “Did you say anything to him, anything at all? I don't know how else he should suspect, and he suspects."
"The fact is, we had a game of cards t'other night at Holly Hill, just the two of us. My wife, Lady Ann, has no opinion of cards or such frivolous entertainments. A man likes to get away and relax once in a while. During the evening the name of Miss Sage arose. ‘A right wily gentleman it is,’ Porson said, and I agreed. You handle the business very well, ma'am,” he added.
"What else?” I persisted, not deceived by the compliment.
"Oh, he mentioned this one and that—the name of Williams arose, but I said I didn't think it was such a newcomer among us. We were both drinking, you know, a trifle foxed, to tell the truth. He named off a few others, and somehow Andrew's name came up. Well, he mentioned it himself in fact. Said the fellow was smarter than he ever figured, for he'd got the price of the living here up to three hundred by claiming he had such an offer elsewhere."
"He did have such an offer!"
"I don't doubt it. I said I could not believe Andrew was so cagey, and he seemed to agree. ‘More like the vixen,’ he went on, or something of the sort. Meaning, I'm afraid, yourself, ma am."
"You're quite sure you didn't confirm it, Sir Elwood?"
"I promise you I did not. I was not that deep in my cups. I only laughed at the idea, and we said no more."
"I hope you are not in the habit of becoming drunk when abroad, to let out things you should not,” I said, severely annoyed with him.
"No, I learned sobriety well when I was Miss Thyme myself. I was not nearly so foxed as Porson. I very rarely get a night out and when the chance comes ... But you need not fear I was indiscreet. He cannot possibly know anything. He is a little suspicious, that's all. Give him a good setdown when he comes to you, if he does come, and he will think he was mistaken. I'll lead him off in some harmless direction if he ever mentions it to me again—tell him the whole town knows it is this Williams fellow, and there will be an end to it. Just hold your nose high, ma'am, and act offended."
You may be sure I took his good advice. Porson came that same evening. What a Christmas Eve it was! At eight he was at the door asking for me. I asked Miss Halka to join us. Porson tried to be rid of her, but I told him bluntly that anything he had to say to me, he could say before my companion.
"I will then, as ye say so, lass,” he declared, with a threatening glance to me. “I've come to repeat the offer I made ye after your father's death."
"My answer is the same as it was at that time sir."
"The circumstances are not the same,” he pointed out, glinting his brown eyes at me.
"No, they are considerably more in my favor."
"They won't be once the truth is out, will they?"
"I don't understand you, sir."
"I fancy Miss Sage understands me."
I looked at him, feigning bewilderment.
"I think Miss Sage ought to be consulted,” he went on, nodding his head.
"If you are aware of the true identity of Miss Sage, by all means ask him,” was my answer.
"I've come to the right house in any case."
"Are you daring to suggest that my brother is engaged in smuggling activities?” I demanded, rising to my feet in a fine rant.
A quizzical look came over his red face. He looked uncertain, while I rattled on to make him dead certain he was wrong. “Miss Halka, call Andrew in at once, and let him tell this gentleman that he is mistaken."
Edna arose obediently, looking so eminently shocked and respectable it seemed ludicrous she was party to my whole infamous goings-on. Before she reached the doorway, Porson hollered after her in his uncouth voice, “Eh, no need ... I didn't really think young Andrew...” He looked once more to me.
My neck, already as stiff as a board, stiffened a little more. “Well, sir, may I know what you did mean? Miss Halka,” I went on in a voice of heavy irony, “it is not possible you have engaged in leading a vicio
us ring of smugglers in your spare time, I trust?"
She smiled in derision and said that indeed she had not. Porson looked at the toes of his boots, his fingers, a picture on the wall, then once more at the richly appointed room. “Where did ye get the blunt to fix the place up?” he asked, with just a tiny lingering trace of uncertainty.
"My aunt, Mrs. Harvey, in Devonshire—you recall she took an interest in us at my father's death—has been kind enough to give us a little from time to time, to eke out the pittance Andrew earns, for all his hard work."
This sounded sufficiently like a dun for an increase in Andrew's salary that Porson shuffled to his feet. “I fancy I owe ye an apology then,” he said, heading to the door.
He was gone, and Miss Halka and I dissolved in a heap of nervous giggles on our velvet chairs, taking turns imitating him. I never saw Edna behave so giddily before or since. It was pure relief. She had been more terrified than myself, poor thing. “He didn't know which way to look,” she tittered, between bursts of laughter. “But he cast many a peep at your ankles for all that."
"I trust this is the last proposal I shall receive from that wretched man."
"I wouldn't count on it,” she cautioned.
I felt immeasurably better. The victory gave me strength to go on. With the most exigent of my difficulties overcome, there still remained the matter of finding a new spot for hiding my contraband cargo. Christmas Eve was hardly the time for it, but then it could not be put off much longer.