Victoria Holt - Kirkland Revels

by Kirkland Revels (lit)

  " Please go on," I pleaded.

  " After several miscarriages I was warned that I ought to have no more children ... but he wanted a son. I tried again. There was no son.

  The child was bora dead and I ... well, I have been an invalid ever since.

  Imagine how he hates me! I cannot even give him a son. I think that he would have rid himself of me if it had not been for Damans. " She put out a hand and stroked her daughter's hair. " You see, he does not know how far she would betray him if he attempted to destroy me. " She turned to Damans. " You see, my darling, in some ways we have him in our power. " Then to me: " It was four years ago that I did my best to bear him a son. Before that I was not strong but I was able to take my part in the life of the neighbourhood. I played a part in the pageant. only one of the monks, it was true. I still had my robe though . until a few months ago. "

  I caught my breath and said: " So it is yours, that robe?"

  " Yes, it was mine. I had kept it. I am a little sentimental 241 about such things. It was a reminder to me of the days when I was not an invalid."

  " Damans helped him," I said accusingly. " She swore that she had seen nothing."

  "I had to," whispered Damans, with a sob in her voice. " He told me what I had to do. We always obeyed him. We dared do nothing else. I was to take you to the ruins ... not too quickly ... to give him time to get there before us. And then, when he appeared, I was to pretend I saw nothing. There is a way from the ruins into the house.

  He discovered it when he was a boy. So he appeared to you in the house as well. "

  Now that I had the vital facts, events began to fall into place. I saw bow he had everything fitted so neatly. I was filled with a wild exultation, and the reason was that the wish I had made at the Knaresborough Well had come true. It was not Simon.

  " Why ... why ... ?" I demanded.

  " He was determined to live in the Revels one day. As the poor boy he had watched the guests come and go. He had seen the picnics in summer, the skating parties in the winter; he had looked through the windows at the balls. He was obsessed by the Revels because he believed that he was Sir Matthew's son and therefore belonged there. He was deter mined to get there one day, and he saw that the way to do so was through Damaris. She was to marry Luke. "

  " But how could he be sure of that?"

  " My daughter has a rare beauty. I do not think Luke is unaware of it.

  They were thrown together always. It may have been that he would have found some way of insisting on that marriage. He discovered the secrets in people's lives and used them when he found it expedient to do so. He would have discovered some things perhaps which Sir Matthew would not want made known . or perhaps Mrs. Grantley. The marriage would have taken place. He was not unduly concerned about Gabriel.

  Gabriel was delicate; he himself diagnosed that weak heart the same complaint of which his mother had died. Perh'aps Gabriel's heart was sound ; perhaps he was preparing the way to Gabriel's end . I do not know everything. But when Gabriel married you he became a menace. He feared what actually did happen that you might have a child. He was determined that Gabriel must die, and you at that time were of little interest to him. So Gabriel . died. "

  " It is not difficult to imagine how," I said grimly. And [ pictured it. Did he lure Gabriel on to the balcony, or did Gabriel go there as he had made a habit of doing? There was no Friday on that night to warn him of a sinister presence. And then as he stood there, a stealthy movement from behind, a hand over his mouth and his body lifted and sent hurtling over the balcony.

  Suicide? It seemed a reasonable verdict.

  She said: " We are wasting time. Believe me, there is nothing more I can do for you. I have helped you all I can. Go at once to your old home. There you will be safe."

  " You know that he plans something?"

  " We know that. He is angry. He does not take us into his confidence, but there are certain things we cannot help knowing Something has happened to anger him."

  I knew what that was. He had discovered that the robe had been removed. He was planning some immediate action against me. I thought of his coming into the minstrels' gallery on Christmas night, and I wondered what would have happened to me then if Simon and Damaris had not been in the hall.

  I caught their nervous excitement. I knew I had to act promptly. I could not see how he could harm me now, because I had so much evidence against him, but I did not doubt that he was diabolically clever.

  " Go at once," pleaded his wife. " Do not wait for anything He may return here at any moment. If he found you ... if he knew what we had told you...."

  " Yes'," I agreed. " I will go at once. How can I thank you for telling me this? I know what it must have meant to you."

  " Don't waste time in thanking us. Please go, and he must not see you leave this house."

  So I went, and when I came through the fir trees to the gate I was trying to make up my mind what I should do.

  I was not going to Glen House. I was going to Kelly Grange. But first I would return to the Revels because I was determined that I would take the monk's robe with me. I was not going to allow anyone in future to believe that I had suffered from hallucinations.

  As I walked back to the Revels, I was in a state of great excitement.

  I was certain that the account I had heard was a true one. How could I doubt that sick woman? Her fear had been genuine. Besides, now that I knew who my enemy 243 was it was easy to understand how he had been in a position to act as he did. I thought back to the very beginning . the occasion when Friday had warned us of an intruder and had insisted on being taken out to the corridor; the next day when he had been missing and I had gone to look for hirr. and lost my way and been brought home by Simon, Deverel Smith had been present on our return.

  He could have heard Gabriel say that he was going to order some milk for me. He might have seen the maid bringing it up, and have explained to her that I was upset about the loss of my dog and he would slip a sedative into my milk. Such a possibility had not entered my mind; on that tragic morning none of us thought of anything but Gabriel's death.

  But this could have been the reason why I slept so quickly and so deeply.

  Then how easy it was for him to slip in and out of the house; to pull the curtains about my bed, to remove the warming-pan, and to put my cloak over the balcony.

  He could come by the secret entry and if he were seen, on the stairs, in the hall, he would always have a plausible answer. He had been worried about Sir Matthew . Sarah . and latterly myself, and had dropped in to assure himself that all was well.

  And Simon? I had to face the truth. I believed that Damaris regarded her father's determination to marry her to Luke with repulsion; and what I had originally thought was an affection between her and Luke was merely Damaris's desire to please a father whom she feared, and Luke's natural interest in an attractive girl--and with one as beautiful as Damaris that interest would normally be intensified. But with Simon it would be different; and I did not believe that any woman could be completely indifferent to the virile charm of Simon Redvers. Even I--down to earth and sensible person that I believed myself to be--could not.

  I must not think of Simon. But Hagar was my friend. I could rely on her. So I was going to the Revels; I was going to take the monk's robe from my wardrobe and go with it to Kelly Grange. I would tell Mary-Jane to pack some of my things, and she could bring them over in the carriage later. [ should walk because I was not going to let anyone but Mary Jane know that I was leaving.

  Those were my plans as I entered the Revels.

  I rang my bell, and Mary-Jane came to my room.

  " Mary-Jane," I said. " I am going at once to Kelly Grange. Pack some things that I shall need. I will send for you and them. But I propose to go immediately."

  " Yes, madam," said Mary-Jane, here eyes wide with surprise.

  "Something has happened," I told her.

  "I cannot stop to explain now.

  But I am goin
g to leave this house at once. "

  As I spoke I heard the sound of carriage wheels, and I went to the window.

  I saw Dr. Smith alight and, because I no longer saw him as the benevolent doctor, I felt myself tremble.

  " I should be gone," I said. " I must leave at once."

  I hurried out of the room, leaving a bewildered Mary Jane staring after me; I went along the corridor, down the first flight of stairs; then I heard the doctor's voice; he was talking to Ruth.

  " Is she at home?"

  " Yes, I saw her come in only a few minutes ago."

  "That is fortunate.. I will go and get her now."

  "What if she ... ?"

  " She will know nothing until I have her safely there."

  My heart began to hammer uncertainly. He was already striding across the hall. I slipped into the minstrels' gallery quickly, thinking that I might hide myself there while he well) on to my room. Then I should run out of the house and to Kelly Grange.

  Ruth had remained in the hall and I wondered how I should get past her.

  Would she tell the doctor that I had run out of the house? If so, how long would it take him to catch up with me?

  I quietly shut the door of the gallery and I immediately thought of the cupboard. If I could escape by way of the secret tunnel they would not catch me.

  But even as I, my body bent so that I should not be seen from the hall, went towards the cupboard, the door of the gallery opened and he was standing there.

  " Oh ... hallo, Catherine." He was smiling the benign smile which had deluded me in the past.

  I could say nothing for the moment; my voice had lost itself in my constricted throat.

  " I came to call on you, and I saw you come in here as 3 started up the stairs."

  " Good morning," I said and I felt that my voice sounded calmer than I had thought possible. ^45 He stepped into the gallery and shut the door. When I glanced over the balcony I could see Ruth standing below.

  ^ "It's a fine morning," he went on.

  "I wanted you to come for a little drive with me."

  " Thank you. I was just going out for a walk."

  " But you have just come in."

  " Nevertheless, I am just going out again."

  He lifted a finger and there was something so sinister in that playful gesture that I felt a shudder run down my spine.

  " You are doing too much walking, and you know I don't allow that."

  " I am perfectly healthy," I answered. " Jessie Dankwait is pleased with me."

  " The country midwifel" he said contemptuously. " A drive will do you good."

  " Thank you, but I do not wish to go."

  He came towards me and took my wrist; he held it tenderly yet firmly.

  "I am going to insist to-day, because you are looking a little pale."

  "' No, Dr. Smith," I said. " I do not wish to go for a drive."

  " But my dear Catherine " (his face was close to mine and his gentle, suave manner seemed more horrible than violence), " you are coming with me."

  I tried to walk past him, but he caught and held me firmly. He took the robe from me and threw it on the floor.

  "' Give that to me and let me go at once," I said.

  " My dear, you must allow me to know what is good for you."

  I was filled with sudden panic. I called: "Ruthi Ruth! Help me."

  I saw her start up-the stairs, and I thanked God that she was at hand.

  She opened the door of me minstrels' gallery; he was still holding me in a grip so firm that I could not extricate myself.

  " I am afraid." he said to her, " that she is going to give us a little trouble."

  " Catherine," said Ruth, " you must obey the doctor. He knows what's best for you."

  " He knows what is besti Look at this robe. He is the one who has been playing those tricks on me."

  " I fear," said the doctor, " that it is more advanced than I believed.

  I am afraid we are going to have trouble. It is a 246 mistake to delay too long in these matters. It has happened before in my experience."

  "What diabolical plan have you in mind now?" I demanded.

  " It is the persecution mania," murmured the doctor to Ruth. "

  Believing that they are alone against the whole world." He turned to me. " Catherine, my very dear Catherine, you must trust me. Have I not always been your friend?"

  I burst out laughing and it was laughter which alarmed me. I was truly frightened now, because I began to see what he planned to do with me, and that Ruth either believed him or pretended to, and I was alone with them . and friendless. I knew the truth, but I had been a fool. I had told no one of my discovery. I could still do that. But whom could I tell . these two whose plan was to destroy me?

  For Ruth, if not his accomplice, was no friend to me.

  " Look," I said, " I know too much. It was you. Dr. Smith, who decided that my child should never be born. You killed Gabriel and you were determined to kill anyone who stood between Luke's inheriting the Revels ..."

  " You see," he said sadly, " how far advanced it is."

  " I found the robe, and I know, too, that you believe you belong here.

  I know it all. Do you think that you can deceive me any more. "

  He had seized me firmly in his arms. I smelt a whiff of what might have been chloroform as something was pressed over my mouth. I felt as though everything was slipping away from me and I heard his voice, very faint, as though it were a long way off, " I hoped to avoid this. It is the only way when they are obstreperous...."

  Then I slipped away . into darkness.

  I have heard it said that the mind is more powerful than the body. I believe that to be so. My mind commanded my body to reject the chloroform even as it was pressed over my mouth. This was not possible, of course; that would have been asking too much, but as it began to affect my body my brain continued to struggle against it. I must not sink into unconsciousness. I knew that if I did I should wake up a prisoner, and that all the evidence which I had acquired would be destroyed and my protests called the aberrations of the mentally sick.

  So even as my body succumbed, my mind fought on.

  So it was that I was half conscious of being in that jolting carriage with the evil doctor beside me. And I summoned all my will power to fight the terrible drowsiness which was lulling me into a sense of utter forgetfulness.

  I realised he was taking me to Worstwhistle.

  We were alone in his brougham and the driver could not hear what was said. The swaying of the vehicle was helpful; the clop-clop of the horse's hoofs seemed to be saying:

  " Doom is at hand. Fight it. Fight it with all your might. There is still time. But once you enter that grim grey building ... it will not be so easy to come out."

  I would not enter. I would never let anyone be able to tell my child that once its mother had been an inmate of Worstwhistle.

  "You should not struggle, Catherine," said the doctor gently.

  I tried to speak but the effect of the drug was claiming me.

  " Close your eyes," he murmured. " Do you doubt that I will look after you? There is nothing for you to fear. I shall come and see you every day. I shall be there when your child is born...."

  My mind said: " You are a devil...." But the words did not come.

  I was frightened because of this terrible drowsiness which was seeping over me, and which would not let me fight for my future and that of my child.

  Subconsciously I knew that this had been his plan all along, to get me to Worstwhistle before my child was born, to attend to me there and make sure, if my child was a boy, that he did not live.

  If I gave birth to a daughter or a stillborn child, then I should be of no more interest to him, because I should no longer menace Luke's accession to the Revels and the marriage with Damans.

  But, fight as I would, I could only remain in this half- conscious state. And I reserved my strength for the moment when the carriage wheels should stop and he woul
d call strong men to help him bring another reluctant victim to that grim prison.

  The carriage had drawn up.

  We had arrived. I felt sick and dizzy, and only half conscious.

  " Why, my dear Catherine," he said, and he put his arm about me; and once more I felt his gentle touch to be more hurtful than a blow, "you are unwell. Never mind. This is the end of the journey. Now you shall know peace. No more fancies ... no more visions. Here you shall be cared for."

  " Listen ..." I began, and I seemed to drawl the words.