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Authors: Dornford Yates

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The gallery seemed broader than I had thought, but at length I was touching the curtains, which had been drawn At once I turned to the left, for now I had found the windows I had to do no more than follow their line along. And because I had my bearings, perhaps I moved with less care than I should have shown. In any event. I had almost come to the door when I brushed against something unwieldy— and knocked it down

Now when a man who is trying not to be heard knocks over a chair or a table, it shortens his life. But when he knocks over a harp— Not only was the crash appalling, but every string of the instrument sounded Its liquid note. Indeed, as I stood there, trembling. I thought that the dulcet announcement would never die, and when at last it did I should have been glad to die with it, because in all my life I never felt so much abashed Discovery was, of course, Inevitable I had not only waked the household: I had declared where I was: for the harp, like that of the giant in "Jack and the Beanstalk," had lifted up an unmistakable voice

I wiped the sweat from my face and waited for the sound of men running and voices raised. Virgil, no doubt, would come thrusting— to rub my nose in the desperate mess I had made. I began to try to prepare some halting explanation which was not beneath contempt.

I do not know how long I stood still, but as the moments went by. yet nobody came. I began to dare to believe that I was to be spared The silence which I had shattered was absolute as ever; no faintest indication of movement came to my ears. And at last I knew I was saved. For some extraordinary reason, no one was coming to answer the call of the harp.

Expecting to be discovered and put to shame, I had. of course, relinquished my delicate enterprise; but now there was plainly no reason why I should withdraw, provided that on my way back, when my watch was done, I set up the harp again by the light of the dawn. So I ventured to hold on my course, feeling my way before me and moving, as may be believed, as nicely as any cat.

Before I had covered six feet, I touched the door of the turret to which I was trying to come.

Now I had expected the staircase to be In darkness; but the moment I opened the door, I knew that a light was burning beyond the oak. For a moment I found this strange. Then I remembered that I had left lights burning on the staircase within the tower and decided that the practice was natural where dangerous steps were serving a private room.

I took the key from the lock, stepped across the threshold and closed the door.

I was now in a little stone passage which ran through the castle wall and gave directly on to the turret-stair; the wall being four feet thick, the passage was four feet long, for the turret adjoined the castle, yet was complete in itself. An electric light was burning where passage and staircase met, thus lighting the steps up and down as well as the passage itself.

I leaned against the wall and heaved a sigh of relief. Harp or no harp, I had gained the position I sought, and Winter and I between us commanded Caroline's suite. If—

And there I heard a girl laugh— a stifled, mischievous laugh— to tell me she knew I was there.

It was Elsa, of course. I knew that. She must have heard the harp fall and have left Caroline's suite to see what the matter might be. And then she had seen the door open and probably me come in. She was just out of sight, up the stair; and she had been waiting there, to see what I would do.

There was only one thing to be done.

"Is that you, Elsa?" I said, and stepped to the curling stair.

Looking up, I saw her standing, point-device as ever, back to the wall.

Then somebody standing behind me laid me out.

Chapter 13

THE FIRST thing that I remember was Percy Virgil's voice.

head he spoke, and a gag was clapped into my mouth— a pad of sweet smelling silk. When I tried to sit up, I found that my hands were not free. My wrists were strapped tight together, behind my back.

I was still too dazed to make any useful effort, so I laid my head back on the stone and closed my eyes, determined to stay where I was till my strength and my senses came back, for though I could not think straight, I knew that I needed them both as never before. For a moment, I seemed to be swaying, al- though I was lying still. Then somebody made me sit up and pushed my head forward and down. Then water was poured on my head and down the back of my neck.

It was that that cleared my brain, and though my head was aching, from that time on I was healthy in body and mind.

I lifted my head and looked round I was sitting in the passage. Just clear of the turret-stair Percy Virgil was sitting on the stair, a step or two up. And a man whom I knew must be Elgar was standing In the passage beside me, pitcher in hand.

Percy Virgil picked up my pistol, looked at the safety-catch, weighed the thing on his palm and slipped it Into his coat. Then he glanced at his wrist-watch and fingered his chin.

"You are very convenient, Mr. Exon. I should have got you later, but probably only after an ugly scene. And I do so dislike being crossed. But now you've avoided all that, and, what is more, you have made my path very smooth. You see, my cousin is going. The Lady Caroline is leaving the castle to- night. That was always understood— not by you, or that silver-tongued fairy, the Duchess of Whelp. But it was understood by me— as soon as I heard that my cousin was coming back. You see, I don't want her here. I really made that plain about ten days ago. But some people won't take a hint. Well, now she is going for good. She will never come back. Where Max went wrong I don't know; but this time I'm making sure. I was in her bedroom tonight before she came up. Indeed, my arrangements were perfect, as I shall show. And yet, with it all, I had a sort of feeling that when tomorrow arrived and the Lady Caroline Virgil was not in her room, I should be roused from a slumber I really required and once again charged with abduction and things like that. There would have been no shadow of proof. Elsa would have heard nothing. No car would have left the castle. And the steward himself would have said that if I had gone out by night I could not have come In. You see, for two days now I have had no key. Everyone knows that I lost it on Sunday night. I assure you the castle's been ransacked. To no avail, of ' course, because— here it is."

"I can get in, though everyone knows that I can't. But tomorrow I shall throw it away. Never mind. I should have been suspected. Indeed, I think it likely that you would have been very rude. But now you won't be there to be rude; and, what is still more to the point— well, I won't say I shan't be suspected, but even the painted lily will find herself stopped from making a charge."

The man stopped there and leaned forward with glittering eyes.

"My luck came in, Mr. Exon, when you knocked over that harp. We were going, Mr. Exon. I'd had a talk with my cousin, Elsa had received her instructions, and Elgar was on this stair. And then you knocked over the harp. And so I held everything up and waited for you. I mean, it was worth it, Mr. Exon from my point of view.

"Now what will they find tomorrow? Not one, but both of you gone. Abduction? Well, hardly. They don't abduct people like you. What about an illicit elopement? A passionate flight? Oh, that's absurd! Wait a minute. Consider that beautiful scene in the belvedere? This evening— at sunset, Mr. Exon. Yes, you were watched— by a most re- liable man. And then the key to her bedroom— that a lady gave to her swain? And then the dressing-case— which Elsa is packing now? Elsa— there's a good girl. She will speak of her own reactions with tears running down her cheeks; how she and you fought for her darling and how her entreaties were foiled by the way of a man with a maid. Aunt Sally may put up a show, but she won't be able to face these basic facts. And I hardly think shell lay them before the police. I mean they might miss the idyll and get the blurb."

He got to his feet and yawned.

"Go and get her ladyship, Elgar; and tell Mona Lisa I'm not going to wait all night. If she can't pack a dressing-case— "

"It is ready," said Elsa's voice as Elgar went up the stair.

"You see, Mr. Exon," said Virgil, "the way to win in this world is to go all lengths. It's simpler, swifter and safer— every time. Think what I should have been spared if I had taken that course ten days ago. But there, one lives and learns. Take my two— er— assistants for instance." He threw a glance up the stair. "I can count upon Elsa. She's wanted in Bristol for Illegal activities— a bad case. But on Elgar I have no hold, so, though he does not know it, he hasn't got long to live. I think he will be rim over, I'm not quite sure. All lengths, Mr. Exon, all lengths. If you'd gone all lengths in the tower six days ago— It's a dangerous place, that staircase, at any time, and you're pretty strong, and I didn't know you were there. I'm afraid you're not bold enough. He who strikes and runs away, lives to die another day. And here they come."

He picked up a length of cord and then stepped over my legs and out of the way. The next moment Elgar appeared with Caroline over his shoulder, as though she were wounded and senseless and he was bringing her in.

"Put her ladyship down," said Virgil, making a knot in his cord.

Elgar unshouldered his burden and set it down on the steps.

I saw that Caroline was bound and gagged. Virgil said: "We will carry her, but you must walk."

So far I have said nothing of the rabble of thoughts and emotions that had command of my soul. It was a case of mob rule. Passion, regret und hatred, apprehension, Incredulity, despair swept to and fro within me, quarrelling amongst themselves. If I arrested one, the others fell upon me until I let go; and I seemed to be the prey of some supernatural nightmare which had followed me out of Its darkness into the light.

For this half-mad condition there can be no doubt that my impotence was to blame. I am a strong man, as men go; but Virgil's casual discourse had borrowed for me the strength of a demi-god. Had I now been free I would have shown him. I would have torn his throat from his neck, and have broken Elgar In pieces, and cast the two into the drive. If -I-had-been-free. And I was so nearly free.

Only my wrists were bound— fast-strapped together with leather behind my back. For all my strength I could do nothing. The run was spiked

Then my eyes met those of my lady and order came back to my soul.

"Canst thou not minister to a mind deceased?"

I can never describe the magic that hung in her steady gaze. Before it the rabble melted, the mob dispersed, and my plight became an adventure which I was sharing with her— a very insignificant business because that we were together was so much more important than anything else. Percy Virgil and all his works seemed suddenly pygmy stuff; the man was a fretful puppet, it for contempt, strutting before nigh heaven to make the angels smile. But we were invulnerable. We had armed each other for ever five hours before— and that with an armour no other could ever pierce

I died my best to tell her that all vas well. And I think that she understood, for the rarest smile stole into her lovely eyes. And then I came back to earth, like a giant refreshed.

She was gagged and bound, as I was. But her ankles were tied together, as well as her delicate wrists. Cord had been used to do this sacrilege. She was clad in a blue clothes that I did not know— no doubt to bear out the suggestion of sudden flight. Her beautiful hair tumbled, but that was all

Virgil was speaking again.

"You will have observed. Mr. Exon— perhaps with hope, that while we have bound my cousin's, we have not bound your feet. I will tell you why Because she is light to carry, but you are not. And so you will walk to the car Now, lest you should abuse this freedom, I'm going to put you on a lead."

He held up his cord.

"One end— this end— will be fastened about your waist, and the other about my cousin's most excellent neck. You see? I have made a slip-knot— the knot that they hang people with. So that any irregular movement which you may see fit to make will put to inconvenience your— er— heart's desire. In fact, if I were you. I should emulate Mary's lamb. Not that it matters— if you like to choke her yourself. But I've really made other arrangements— a shade less exciting, I think But I'll leave it to you to Judge."

He looked up at the light and sighed.

"Poor Porus Bureau. If he were here, I don't know what he would say. The French are so emotional. And he wanted her very badly. He'd say I was smashing a bottle of very good wine-that might have given pleasure to others, though it doesn't appeal to me. But there you are. If Max hadn't messed things up—"

He glanced at his watch.

"And now I think we should be moving. Thanks to you. Mr. Exon, I'm a little behind my time. But we haven't got far to go, and I ought to be back In an hour and a quarter from now."

With that, he stepped across me and set the loop he had made about Caroline's neck. Before my horrified eyes he drew this tight— not tight enough to choke her, but so tight that the loop would not lie as a necklace does, but stayed where he had put it against her throat. Then he and Elgar between them got her on Elgar's back. Somehow I got to my knees and so to my feet, and without a word he fastened the end of the cord about my waist.

I saw Elsa standing above with a dressing-case in her hand. Then Elgar began to go down, and I turned in behind him, weak-kneed for fear of stumbling and coming down and being unable to rise because my hands were tied.

Not that it mattered, perhaps But I— I did not want to choke my darling myself.

As we went down to the terrace I remembered Caroline's coming that afternoon— the pomp and circumstance and the homage the servants did: and now she was leaving, after a stay of eight hours, gagged and bound and helpless, with a halter about her neck

It was this reflection that showed me the truth of what Virgil had said— "The way to win in this world is to go all lengths." The man was right. It was manifestly simpler and swifter; direct action always is But it was safer, too— because it was the way of a monster, and we believe in monsters no more than we do in giants.

Virgil was playing the monster, and that as calmly as though he were playing bridge. In other words, he was doing the incredible thing. If I had not seen and heard what I saw and heard that night, I would not have believed the truth though one rose from the dead. And so no one else would believe it— that Caroline Virgil and Exon had been haled out of the castle and put to death by a man who, six hours later was taking his early tea with a cigarette.

I confess that I had no hope: out that was because there was no hope to be had. Percy Virgil's demeanour had murdered hope. His quiet, confidential manner, his easy air, his natural way of speaking precluded doubt. In all he had said in the turret he had conveyed the impression not so much of predicting the future as of relating the past. He had revealed no plan, but a fait accompli. The cards were upon the table The game was done.

AS WE WENT I cannot clearly remember our leaving the staircase-turret and passing into the air, for the cord was none too long and I could think of nothing but keeping it slack, but I know that the moon was not up, that Virgil was moving behind me, that Elgar turned to the right and stepped out for the entrance drive

Perhaps ten minutes went by— it may have been less, but I know we had passed the point from which Herrick and I had surveyed the castle at dawn when I saw in the shadows ahead the shape of a car.

This was open and low— it proved to be Virgil's own car "now under repair"— and Elgar discharged his burden directly over its side. It will be understood that I did not have to be told to enter myself, and an instant later I was upon the back seat with Caroline Virgil beside me, so far as I could hear, drawing regular breath

I suddenly realised that I was streaming with sweat.

The dressing-case was set at our feet and Virgil and Elgar got in. For a moment the self-starter whirred. Then all was silence again, except for the purr of an engine in excellent trim. Virgil sat back in his seat and let in his clutch.

It was as he did this and we moved that my fingers encountered something which did not belong to the seat. In an instant they had it fast: and the moment I knew what it was— the hope which Virgil had murdered came back to me. It was a small screwdriver— which Elgar or some mechanic had left in the back of the car— some eight inches long, over all— with a fine enough blade For all I know, it may have been there for weeks, for, the seat being tilted up, it had lodged between the seat and the padding on the back of the car, and I should I never have found it or known it was there if my wrists had not been fast tied behind my back

Now, as I have said, my wrists were strapped together, not bound with cord— And every strap has a buckle and every buckle a prong. When a man or a beast are restrained by a leather strap it is upon the prong of the buckle that such restraint must depend Disengage the prong from its hole and the stoutest strap will be loosed and all restraint be at an end.

My fingers were free. If I could contrive to thread the blade of the screwdriver over the frame of the buckle and under the prong—

It was a difficult business. I was working blind and my fingers had not fair play, and though I soon found the buckle I could not reach this with my fingers and so could not guide the blade, while the movement of the car was distracting the aim which I tried to take.

Blindfold a man and give him a needle to thread— to save his life and that of the lady he loves. And jog his arm, while he is trying striving to beat the clock. For I was up against time. Virgil was driving last, and— "we hadn't got far to go."

Again and again I was on the edge of success, and then the car would lurch and I would lose prong and buckle and sometimes my balance, too. And once the blade was in place, but, before I could drive it home, a wheel dropped Into a pothole and shook it out. I could have screamed with the rage of a thwarted child.

BOOK: She Painted her Face
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