Letters For A Spy

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  ‘If she don’t get on with breakfast for the stage passengers, she won’t gladden Ma Jilkes’s heart, an’ that’s a fact,’ remarked Nancy. ‘Not but what I doubt she’s got a heart to gladden.’

  ‘Stone, more like!’ snorted Sally. ‘Anyway, it’s a waste puttin’ too much in front of them stage-coach folk, for they don’t get time for more than a mouthful afore they’ve to be off again.’

  ‘It’s a hard life, travellin’,’ agreed Potts, with his mouth full. ‘Is there a drop of ale there, Nancy, m’dear? It’d send this down a treat, it would.’

  ‘Ay, but ye’ll have to get it yourself,’ said Nancy, with a jerk of her head to the large dresser which stood against the wall. ‘It’s over there.’

  The three girls were now bustling about in a style that must have satisfied even Mrs. Jilkes, had she still been there to see it. Potts obediently went over to the dresser, lifted a tankard down from a hook and filled it with ale. He took a deep draught, sighed with satisfaction, then refilled the tankard.

  ‘Don’t forget, now,’ he reminded the girls, ‘tell those ladies from the Mail that the bagman’s here — and the gentlemen, too — in fact, anyone at all who’s stayin’ in the place. Can’t tell when a bit o’ business may come in your way, but it won’t happen if no one knows you’re there, will it, now?’

  ‘I wonder ye don’t trip upstairs and try to catch a penny or two from the folk off the stage,’ scoffed Nancy, as she feverishly sliced a loaf of bread.

  ‘Pooh!’ he scoffed. ‘There’s nothing much to be made out o’ stage passengers. Have a job to raise the fare, most of ‘em. Mail coach folk are better breeched, while as for the real Quality, who travel by post chay or in their own carriages—’ he sighed ‘ — ah, there’s the goose that lays the golden eggs! But a flighty goose, mind — hard to lay your hands on for the likes o’ myself.’

  ‘But surely ye’re in a bigger way o’ business than that?’ asked Nancy with lively curiosity, while she continued to work feverishly. ‘I mind ye tellin’ me one time how ye took orders from shops in all the villages for twenty mile an’ more hereabouts. That ought to bring ye in a tidy bit, enough to make ye snap your fingers at small pickings from a few fine ladies an’ gennelmen who might be stayin’ ‘ere, and too bone idle to fetch what they need from the shops in the town. Leastways, that’s if ye haven’t been tellin’ me a pack o’ lies — which I wouldn’t put past ye,’ she added.

  ‘No, nor me neither,’ agreed Sally, as she manipulated the idleback, a device for tipping the heavy kettle so that she could pour boiling water from it without having to lift it. ‘It’s my belief as Mr. Potts is a bit o’ a dark horse, as they say.’

  ‘What, me?’ demanded Potts, in an injured tone. ‘Well, if that don’t beat all! Why, you girls know me like you know your own fathers — and I’ve danged near been like a father to ye, what with bringin’ ye pretty gee-gaws, one time an’ another. That’s gratitude for ye, that is!’

  ‘As to fathers,’ retorted Nancy, lifting a loaded tray from the table, ‘I never ‘ad one, that I knows of, so I couldn’t say, I’m sure. But all the same,’ she finished, as she edged her way round the door and into the passage with her burden, ‘sometimes I just wonder about ye, Jem Potts. I just wonders exactly what ye are up to, I do indeed.’

  Chapter 5

  AN AFFAIR OF YESTERDAY

  As soon as she recognised Farnham, Elizabeth quickly looked away again. Outwardly she appeared calm, though her whole body suddenly stiffened; but inwardly she was fighting a wild upsurge of emotion which threatened to overcome her completely. Before she had time to subdue it, she heard sounds of a chair being pushed back and footsteps coming purposefully towards her. Her confusion increased. He was coming over to her table; in another moment he would be standing before her, speaking to her. Dear God, how could she face him calmly, what could she find to say?

  She had never been short of courage, and it did not desert her now. As the footsteps drew nearer and halted briefly by her table, she managed to raise her head, prepared to answer something if he should speak. She could not quite bring herself to look into his face at first; she noticed that his riding breeches and top boots were liberally splashed with mud, and told herself that he had recently been riding hard, in spite of the rain. She fastened on this unimportant detail in the way that people often do in times of emotional stress, hoping to restore rationality by concentrating on the trivial.

  It was only a second before she looked up, but it seemed like an hour. She waited for him to speak first. What would he say to her, after all these years? What was there to say, after the way they had parted?

  Her eyes met his fleetingly, and his flickered. But there was no sign of recognition in them as he passed by her without speaking, and went through the open door out into the hall.

  She sat there for a long time after he had gone, without being at all conscious of her surroundings. The waiter came once to ask if she required anything further. She must have made some kind of answer, for he deftly removed the cold remains of a cup of coffee and the half-eaten toast with butter congealing on the top, afterwards leaving her alone.

  At last, she stirred, discovering that she had slight cramp in one of her legs through sitting so rigidly in her chair. She looked at the clock; the hands were moving towards nine. She must have been sitting there almost an hour. Slowly she rose, and made her way upstairs to her room.

  She tried the door, and was at first surprised to find it locked. The earlier events of that morning had been completely forgotten in the more recent shock she had received. Now it all came back to her; she took the key from her reticule and unlocked the door.

  Margaret was standing over by the window, fully dressed and looking out at the rain beating on the cobbled yard. She turned round as Elizabeth entered.

  ‘Oh, there you are! I thought you would have gone downstairs, but it seemed better to wait for you here. I awoke about an hour since, but did not come in immediately, for fear you should still be asleep.’ She broke off, looking sharply at Elizabeth’s face. ‘My dear child, is anything the matter? Do you not feel well? You look as though you had seen a ghost!’

  Elizabeth laughed shakily. ‘No, I’m quite well. But perhaps I have seen a ghost, in a way.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Miss Ellis, sharply. ‘Wait while I get you my smelling-bottle.’

  She was about to dart through the communicating door into her own room, but Elizabeth made a little gesture of dissent.

  ‘No need, Margaret, thank you. I’ve just had something of a shock, that’s all. But it’s nothing that a smelling-bottle can cure.’

  ‘What kind of shock?’ demanded her friend. Then, as Elizabeth made no answer, ‘Is it something you do not wish to tell me? If so, I won’t pester you, my dear. But do come and sit down, for you look fagged to death.’

  Elizabeth obediently sat down, and was silent for a while. Miss Ellis watched her with an anxious expression, but did not again press her to explain.

  At last, Elizabeth broke the silence with a little sigh.

  ‘No, it isn’t anything I wish to keep from you, Margaret,’ she said, slowly. ‘After all, at the time I confided the whole to you.’

  She paused. Miss Ellis waited in the patient way that had won her many a reluctant confidence in past years. It was evident that her young friend had just been through some upsetting experience; she must be allowed to recover from it in her own time.

  ‘There,’ said Elizabeth, presently, in a matter-of-fact tone that still belied her feelings, ‘I am quite myself again, but it was certainly a shock. Do you know who I have just seen, Margaret? None other than Robert — Mr. Robert Farnham, I should say.’

  It was obvious that the name conveyed nothing to Miss Ellis at first. She repeated it, frowning thoughtfully. In a few seconds, her brow cleared.

  ‘Oh, of course! I recollect now! That was the gentleman whom you met when you went to stay with your aunt in Tunbridge Wells. The one who —�
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  ‘The one who made me an offer of marriage,’ finished Elizabeth quietly. ‘And whom I rejected.’

  ‘It was for your sister’s sake that you did so. From what you told me at the time, I know that your feelings towards him —’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘Yes — I was in love with him,’ she said quietly. ‘But how could I leave Anne, with our parents so lately dead? She had only me to rely on, as things were at that time.’

  ‘You could have asked him to wait. There was no need to have rejected him out of hand — but so I told you then. I must not be tedious, repeating myself.’

  ‘I did what seemed best, and most fair to him.’

  ‘And what about yourself? Was it fair to you?’

  Elizabeth hesitated. ‘I couldn’t ask him to wait, for how could I know how many years it might be before I could leave Anne? At nineteen, one year seems a long time, and three or four, for ever. I did what seemed best for every one at the time. Besides, he wouldn’t wait — his nature is not a patient one.’

  ‘And I know,’ said Miss Ellis, softly, ‘that you often regretted your decision, afterwards.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I did. But it is some years now since he was in the forefront of my thoughts. I have long since become reconciled. Possibly we should not have suited. I was very young, after all. It may have been all for the best.’

  ‘Where did you see him? Here at the inn, one supposes, for you will scarcely have been out of doors in this weather.’

  ‘Yes, it was here at the inn. I went into the coffee room to have some breakfast, and he was sitting there, alone.’

  ‘What an extraordinary thing!’ exclaimed Miss Ellis. ‘What did he say to you? Did he make any reference to the past?’

  ‘He said nothing.’

  ‘Nothing?’ repeated Margaret, incredulously.

  ‘Nothing at all. I am not even sure,’ said Elizabeth, doubtfully, ‘that he recognised me. There was just a flicker in his eyes as though he had some doubt whether we had met before. But he gave no sign of positive recognition, and never spoke a single word.’

  ‘Well!’ Margaret paused a moment to digest this. ‘And did you say anything to him — a formal greeting, perhaps, like good morning?’

  ‘No. I was too overcome at first — and then it was so evident that he did not know me, or did not want to know me,’ replied Elizabeth, a touch of colour coming to her cheeks. ‘I suppose, though, I may have changed a good deal in those six years, so he could hardly be blamed for not recognising me.’

  ‘Nonsense! You are more handsome now than you were then, perhaps, but otherwise you are very much the same. Anyone would know you,’ said Margaret indignantly.

  ‘Then perhaps he doesn’t wish to renew the acquaintance. I dare say’ — she hesitated, then went on in a slightly awkward tone — ‘he is most likely married to someone else by now.’

  Margaret was silent for a moment, then replied, ‘It could well be so. In that case, it is possible that his wife is staying here with him — that is, if he is indeed putting up at the inn, and not merely passing through the town.’

  Elizabeth shook her head, and shrugged helplessly. ‘That I can’t say, of course.’

  Margaret gave her a shrewd glance. ‘I dare say you will want to change your plans now. We could leave for Crowle Manor at once, if you wish.’

  ‘I am uncertain what I want to do,’ replied Elizabeth, doubtfully. ‘I never like altering my arrangements unless I’m positively obliged to do so. Besides, the housekeeper is not expecting us at the Manor before tomorrow. No, Margaret,’ she finished, with more firmness in her tone, ‘I am not going to run away from Robert Farnham. After a long parting, we have met again, and the worst is now over. Even if Robert — Mr. Farnham — is staying here, there’s no reason why we should not be able to share the same inn for the space of one day. He means nothing to me now — nothing at all — and it’s plain that he has forgotten me completely. Perhaps it’s a good thing that this has happened, for it’s shown me that the past is indeed over and done with. One can never go back, only forward, as you so often used to tell me when I was still your pupil.’

  Miss Ellis was not quite as reassured by this speech as perhaps her one-time pupil would have liked her to be; but she was far too wise to voice any doubts. Instead, she changed the subject by saying that she was ready for some breakfast, and would order something to be brought up to her room. Elizabeth was not sorry to hear this, for in spite of her recent speech, she felt unable to face another visit to the coffee room just yet.

  It was Nancy who brought up Miss Ellis’s breakfast, laying it on a small table in Elizabeth’s room, as she was directed.

  ‘Very well then, girl,’ said Miss Ellis, seeing that Nancy lingered for a moment when her task was done. ‘Thank you — I shan’t require anything more for the present.’

  ‘If ye please, ma’am,’ ventured Nancy, mindful of her promise to Jem Potts, ‘I just wanted to say there’s a travelling bagman downstairs, should you be wantin’ any little thing in his line, ma’am.’

  ‘I don’t think so — but thank you, all the same.’

  The nod of dismissal carried a hint of impatience in it, and Nancy speedily withdrew.

  ‘I dare say these pedlars depend for quite a portion of their trade on the goodwill of inn servants,’ remarked Margaret Ellis, as she approached her breakfast with enthusiasm. ‘Would you care for some coffee, Elizabeth? The girl has brought two cups.’

  ‘To be truthful, Margaret, I would, please. I did order some downstairs, but I’m afraid I allowed it to get cold.’

  That would be when you saw Mr. Farnham, I collect?’

  Elizabeth nodded, accepting the cup that her companion passed over to her. Now that she had been able to talk to someone about that unexpected meeting, she was rapidly recovering from its effects.

  That reminds me, Margaret. This latest incident has quite put out of my head something else I meant to tell you, something else that was odd.’

  She recounted briefly the story of finding an intruder in her bedchamber. Miss Ellis listened, almost neglecting her own coffee as she did so.

  ‘But how extraordinary, my love!’ she exclaimed, when Elizabeth had finished. ‘I suppose —’ she hesitated ‘ — I suppose you cannot have dreamt it? There is a time, you know, between sleeping and waking, when one can imagine the most outrageous things —’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘No, I am certain it was no dream. Besides, how else would the book have fallen suddenly to the floor? I placed it securely enough on the dressing-table, not just on the edge, that I do remember.’

  ‘All the same,’ replied Miss Ellis, doubtfully, ‘a sudden bang on the floor might have dislodged it. The abigails may have been moving the furniture in the room above yours — and that may have been what wakened you in the first place. Depend on it, my dear, it was all a dream. All the same, it will do no harm to keep your door locked. I always do so when I am staying at an inn.’

  Chapter 6

  SPECIAL DELIVERY FOR CROWLE MANOR

  By the time breakfast was over, the rain had stopped, and the sun appeared from behind the rapidly breaking cloud. This improvement in the weather decided the two ladies to venture for a stroll in the town, and they quickly made themselves ready for their outing.

  Elizabeth hesitated for a moment as she was about to close the door of her bedroom behind her before going downstairs, and Miss Ellis looked at her questioningly.

  ‘What is the matter? Is there something you’ve left behind in your room?’

  ‘No,’ replied Elizabeth, shaking her head. ‘But it’s just — oh, I dare say you’ll think it foolish of me, Margaret, but I think I’ll lock this door while I’m away. I dislike the notion of anyone poking about in my room, and I’m positive that someone was in here earlier on. Whoever it was, may come again. Anyway, I shall not feel easy in my mind if I leave the door unlocked.’

  Miss Ellis was fairly certain in her own mind that her friend must have dream
t the earlier episode; but she wisely refrained from repeating this opinion. Instead, she also locked her door, remarking that there was no use in locking one without the other, as the inner communicating door would give access to Elizabeth’s room.

  They had concluded this precautionary measure, and were putting the keys away in their reticules, when they heard someone approaching from that end of the passage which led to the service staircase. A moment later, their recent fellow passenger, Mrs. Wood, came into view. She favoured them with a hard, curious stare as she passed, but otherwise gave them no greeting.

  ‘Well, really!’ hissed Miss Ellis, in an indignant whisper. ‘She might at least have had the courtesy to bow and say good morning!’

  Mrs. Wood was descending the stairs. Elizabeth gazed thoughtfully after her rigidly-held back.

  ‘She is an odd kind of female altogether,’ she replied in a low tone. ‘Her behaviour in the coach was most— ’

  She broke off, as the door of Room One opened and a gentleman emerged. He gave no more than the briefest glance in their direction before turning to go downstairs, but it was enough for Elizabeth to identify him. To her annoyance, she felt the colour rise to her face.

  Miss Ellis noticed her friend’s slight confusion and, being quick on the uptake, guessed almost at once what had caused it; especially as Elizabeth showed a disposition to linger outside the door of her room instead of continuing on her way to the staircase. She asked if the gentleman had been Mr. Farnham, and was answered by an embarrassed nod.

  ‘How very odd, my dear, that he should be in the room next to yours!’ Then, after a pause — ‘Shall we not go down? Perhaps it would be as well to inquire of the landlord if he can supply a chaise to take us to Crowle tomorrow. If we leave it too late, they may all be booked.’

  Having thus, as she hoped, given Elizabeth’s thoughts a new turn, she steered her towards the stairs. Elizabeth went down slowly, hoping to avoid catching up Mr. Farnham; but when she reached the hall, she saw that he was standing there with his back to her, apparently deeply absorbed in studying a stuffed fish in a glass case which hung on the wall. Mrs. Wood, too, was standing not far away, fastening the buttons on her grey gloves. As Elizabeth and Margaret paused at the foot of the stairs, the landlord came out of the residents’ coffee room and they were able to ask him about their chaise for the following morning.