CHAPTER XVI
THE WHITE FLOWERS
Surely enough, when Ralph Ravenspur came into the great hall, where teawas being served, he was wearing a pair of dark glasses, with gold rims.Slight as the alteration was in itself, it changed him almost beyondrecognition. He had been doing something to his face also, for thedisfiguring scar had practically disappeared. As he came feeling his wayto a chair, the slight thread of conversation snapped altogether.
"Don't mind me," he said quietly. "You will get used to the change, andyou cannot deny it is a change for the better. One of the causes leadingto this vanity was a remark I overheard on the part of one of theservants. She expressed the opinion that I should look better inglasses. That opinion I shared. I have no doubt the maid was correct."
All this was uttered in the dry, soft, caustic manner Ralph constantlyaffected. Nobody answered, mostly because it was assumed that no replywas expected. With a cup of tea in his hand Ralph began to speak ofother things.
Leading from the hall was a big conservatory. Here Marion was busy amongher flowers. She was singing gently as she snipped a bud here and there,and Vera was helping her. Curled up in a leisure chair, Geoffrey wasabsorbed in a book. The smoke from his cigarette circled round his head.
Ralph placed his cup down again and felt his way into the conservatory.He stood in the doorway listening to the controversy going on beyond.
"I don't fancy I shall like it," said Vera. "It will be too cold, toofunereal."
"My dear child," Marion cried, "then we will abandon the idea. Onlydon't forget that it was your own suggestion. You said it would lookchaste."
"Did I really! Then I had forgotten about it. And we are not going toabandon the idea. It shall not be said that I change my mind like aweathercock. The flowers on the dinner table to-night are all going tobe white."
Marion paused in the act of cutting a lily.
"I don't fancy I would," she urged. "After all, second thoughts arebest. White flowers on a table do suggest a funeral, that is if they areall white. And in an unfortunate house like this anything melancholy isto be discouraged. I think I will throw these blooms away----"
"You will do nothing of the kind," Vera cried. "White it shall be, andyou and I shall arrange them in the best possible style. Why, you haveenough already. Come along and we'll 'fix' up the table at once. UncleRalph, how you startled me."
"Did I?" Ralph said coolly. "I fancy it is my mission in life to startlepeople. What have you two been quarreling about?"
"We were not quarreling," Vera replied. "Marion insists that whiteflowers on a dinner-table are cold and chilly, not to say funereal. Isay they are chaste and elegant. And, to prove that I am right, thetable to-night will be decorated with white flowers."
"Not with my consent," Marion laughed. "I have set my face dead againstthe whole business. But spoilt Vera always gets her own way."
Vera smiled as she passed on with an armful of the nodding whiteflowers. Ralph passed slowly into the conservatory and closed thestained-glass door behind him.
Then he crossed the tiled floor rapidly as if his eyes were all thatcould be desired, and slipped up a glass panel at the far end of theconservatory. From this point there was a sheer fall down the cliffs onto a hard sandy beach below.
"Just the same," Ralph muttered. "Nothing altered. And just as easy."
He crossed the tiles again and passed into the great stone flagged hallin his slow way. Then he proceeded to light his pipe and strolled intothe grounds. Past the terrace he went until he came to the cliffs wherehe was out of sight of the house.
Then with the confidence of the mountain goat he made his way to thebeach, the hard strip of beach that lay under the shadow of the castle.Here he fumbled for some time among the damp slippery rocks, feeling forsomething with infinite care and patience.
His perseverance was rewarded at last. His hands lay on a mass offlowers, damp and sodden and yet comparatively fresh. He lifted one tohis nostrils and sniffed it.
"As I thought," he said, "as I expected. How cunning it all is, howbeautifully worked out! And nothing, however small, is left to chance.Well, I came home in the nick of time, and I have found an ally I candepend upon. Only it was just as well not to let Geoffrey know that Iknew of Jessop's lodger before to-day. I wonder if my lady guesses howcarefully she is being watched."
Half an hour later Ralph was in the castle again, wandering about in hisrestless way and appearing to be interested in nothing, as usual.Presently the great bell began to clang in the turret, and the familypartly gathered in the dining room before dinner. Vera was the last toarrive.
"How lovely you look," Geoffrey whispered.
Vera laughed and colored. She had a white dress without ornament andwithout flowers, save a deep red rose in her hair.
"That red rose is the crowning touch," said Geoffrey.
"I thought it was to be all white to-night," Ralph said. He had caughtthe whispered words, as he seemed to catch everything. "Was that not so,Vera?"
"Not for me, sir," Vera replied. "I am in white."
"I wish you could see her," Geoffrey said tenderly, "she looks lovely.Her eyes are so blue, her skin is like the sunny side of a peach."
"And your tongue is like that of a goose," Vera laughed. "Never mind,Uncle Ralph. Never mind. If you can't have the inestimable advantage ofgazing on my perfect beauty, you shall have the privilege of sitting byme at dinner."
Geoffrey pleaded with comic despair, but Vera was obdurate. As the bellclanged again, she laid a hand light as thistledown on Ralph's arm. Shewas brighter and more gay than usual this evening and Marion played upto her, as she always did.
The elders were silent. Perhaps the white flowers on the table checkedthem. They were so suggestive of the wreaths on a coffin.
When once the cloth was drawn in the good old-fashioned way, and thedecanters and lamps and glasses stood mirrored in the shining darkmahogany, the resemblance was more marked than ever. The long strip ofwhite damask, whereon lamps and flowers and decanters rested, might havebeen a winding sheet. Rupert Ravenspur protested moodily.
"It's dreadful in a house like this," he said. "Who did it?"
"I am the culprit, dearest," Vera admitted prettily. "Marion did all inher power to prevent me, but I would have my own foolish way. If youwill forgive me I will promise that it shall not occur again."
Rupert Ravenspur smiled. It was only when he was looking at Vera thatthe tender relaxation came over his stern old face. Then his eyes fixedon the flowers and they seemed to draw him forward.
"You are forgiven," he said. "Marion was right, as she always is. Whatshould we do without your cheerfulness and good advice? Upon my word Ifeel as if those flowers were drawing all the reason out of me."
Nobody replied. It was a strange and curious thing that everybody seemedto be regarding the waxen blossoms in the same dull, sleepy, fascinatingway. All eyes were turned upon them as eyes are turned upon somethrilling, repulsive performance. The silence was growing oppressive andpainful.
Geoffrey gave a little gasp and laid his hand upon his chest.
"What is it?" he said. "There is a pain here like a knife. I amburning."
Nobody took the faintest notice. Only Ralph seemed to be alive, and yetthere was no kind of expression on his face. Heads were drawing nearerand nearer to the vases where the graceful flowers were grouped--thoseinnocent looking blooms which were the emblems of all that was fair andfine and beautiful.
What did it mean, what strange mystery was here? Nobody could speak,nobody wanted to speak; all were sinking, lulled and soothed into apoppyland sleep, even Geoffrey who seemed to be fighting for somethinghe knew not what.
Then Ralph reached out his hand to the foot of the table. His long, leanfingers were tangled in the strip of damask down the mahogany table onwhich lamps and decanters and glasses and dishes of fruit were placed.
With a vigorous pull he brought the whole thing crashing on the polishedfloor, where two pools of paraffin m
ade a blaze of the wreck that Ralphhad caused. Then he slid over the floor and opened one of the windows,letting in the pure air fresh from the North Sea.
The Mystery of the Ravenspurs Page 16