Complete Works of Bram Stoker (320 page)

But the thought of her father, and all that depended on her action and his knowledge, wakened her to full intellectual activity. She stood up at once and said quickly:

“What place is this?”

“The signal-box of Casde Douglas Junction.”

“And where is that? I think I have heard the name before.”

‘Tis a toon as they ca’ it here. The junction is o’ the Glasgie an’ South Western, the Caledonian, the Port Patrich an’ Wigtownshire, the London an’ North Western, an’ the Midland lines. But for short there are but twa. One frae Kirkcudbright, an’ th’ ither frae Newton Stewart”

“In what country are we?” Seeing the astonishment in his face she went on: “I am an American, and not familiar with the district We came from England this morning  —  from Westmoreland  —  from Ambleside  —  and I am confused about the Border. I had to drive myself because my  —  we got into trouble for driving fast, and I had to come on alone. And then the fog overtook me. I went along as well as I could. Are we anywhere near Carlisle? Her face fell as she saw the shake of his head:

“Eh ma leddie but ye’re mony a mile frae Carlisle. Ts over fifty miles be the line. Ye maun hae lost yer way sair. Ye’re in Kirkcudbright-shire the noo.” Her heart sank:

“Oh I must send a telegram at once.”

“Ye canna telegraph the nicht ma leddie! The office is closed till eight the morn’s morn.”

“My God! What shall I do. My father arrived from London to-night and he does not know where I am. I came out for a drive and thought to be back in good time to meet him. He will be in despair. Is there no way in which I can send word? It is not a matter of expenses; I shall pay anything if it can be done!” She looked at him in an agony of apprehension. The man was stirred by the depth of emotion and by her youth and beauty; and his clever Scotch brain began to work. His mouth set fast in a hard line and his rough heavy brows began to wrinkle. After a pause he said:

“AH do what A can, ma leddie; though A can’t be sure if ‘twill wark. The telegraphs are closed. Even if we could find an operator it wouldn’t be possible to get the wires. Our own lines are closed, for we’ll hae no traffic till morn.” Here an idea struck Joy and she interrupted him:

“‘Could I not get a special train? I am willing to pay anything?”

“Lord love ye, ma leddy, they don’t have specials on bit lines like this. Ye couldn’t get one nigher than Glasgie an’ not there at this time o’ day. Let alone they’d no send in such a fog anyhow. But I’m thinkin’ that A can telephone to Dumfries. The operator o’ oor line there is a freend o’ mine, an’ if he’s on dooty he’ll telephone on to Carlisle wheer there’s sure to be some one at the place. An’ mayhap the latter’ll telephone on till Ambleside. So, if there be any awake there, they’ll send to the hotel. Is it a hotel yer faither’ll be in?”

“Oh thank you, thank you,” said Joy seizing his hand in a burst of gratitude. “I’ll be for ever grateful to you if you’ll be so good!”

“A’m thinkin’” he went on “that perhaps ‘twill cost yer ladyship a mickle  —  perhaps a muckle; but A dar say ye’ll no mind that...”

“Oh no, no! It will be pleasure to pay anything. See, I have plenty of money!” She pulled out her purse.

“Na! na! Not yet ma leddie. Tis no for masel  —  unless yer ladyship insists on it, later on. Tis for the laddies that will do what they can. Ye see there may be some trouble o’er this. We signal-men and offeecials generally are not supposed to attend to aught outside o’ the routine. But if it should be that there is trouble to us puir folk, A’m sure yer ladyship an’ some o’ yer graan’ freensll no see us wranged!”

“Oh no indeed. My father and Mr.  —  and all our friends will see to it that you shall never suffer, no matter what happens.”

“Well now, ma leddy  —  if ye’ll joost write down your message A’ll do what A can. But ‘twill be wiser if ye gang awa intil a hotel an’ rest ye. A can send the message better when A’m quit o’ ye. Forbye ye see ‘tis no quite respectable to hae a bonny lassie here ower lang. Ma wife is apt to be a wee jalous; an’ it’s no wise to gie cause where nane there is.”

“But I do not know where to go  —  ” she began. He interrupted her hastily: “There’s a graan hotel i’ the toon  —  verra fine it is; but A’m thinkin’ that ver ladyship, bein’ by yer lonesome, may rather care to go to a quieter house. An’ as A’d recommend ye to seek the ‘Walter Scott’ hotel. Tis kep by verra decent folk, an’ though small is verra respectable an’ verra clean. Say that yer kent by Tammas Macpherson an’ that will vouch for ye, seein’ that ye’re a bit lassie by yer lanes. Tis a most decent place entirely, an’ A’m tellin’ ye that the Sheriff o’ Galloway himsel’ aye rests there when he comes to the toon.”

Joy wrote her message on the piece of paper which he had provided whilst speaking:

“To Col. Ogilvie, Inn of Greeting, Ambleside: Dearest Daddy I have been caught in a heavy fog and lost, but happily found my way here. I shall return by the first train in the morning. Love to mother. I am well and safe. Joy.”

Then the signal man gave her explicit directions as to finding the house. As she was going away he said with a diffident anxiety:

‘To what figure will yer ladyship gang in this  —  this meenistration? A’d joost like to ken in case o’ neceesity? She answered quickly:

“Oh anything you like  —  twenty-five dollars  —  I mean five pounds  —  ten pounds  —  twenty  —  a hundred, anything, anything so that my father gets the message soon.” He looked amazed for a moment. Then as he held open the door deferentially he said in a voice in which awe blended with respect:

“Dinna fash yerself more ma leddie. Yer message will gang for sure; an’ gang quick. Ye may sleep easy the nicht, an’ wi’out a thocht o’ doobt. An’ll leave wi’ ma kinsman Jamie Macpherson o’ the Walter Scott ma neem an’ address in case yer ladyship wishes me to send to yon the memorandum o’ the twenty poons.”

Joy found her way without much difficulty to the Walter Scott. The house was all shut up, but she knocked and rang; and presently the door was unchained and opened. The Boots looked for a moment doubtful when he saw a lady alone; but when she said:

“I am lost in the fog, and Mr. Thomas Macpherson of the railway told me I should get lodging here,” he opened the door wide and she walked in. He chained the door, and left her for a few minutes; but returned with a young woman who eyed her up and down somewhat suspiciously. Joy seemed to smell danger and said at once:

“I got lost in the fog, and the motor met with an accident. So I had to leave it on the road and walk on.”

“An’ your shawfer? “ asked the doubting young woman.

“He got into trouble for driving too fast, and had to be left behind.”

“Very weel, ma’am. What name shall A put down?”

Joy’s mind had been working. Her tiredness and her sleepiness were brushed aside by the pert young woman’s manifest suspicion. She remembered Mr. Hardy’s caution not to give her own name; and now, face to face with a direct query, remembered and used the one which had been given to her on the Cryptic. It had this advantage that it would put aside any suspicion or awkwardness arising from her unprotected position, arriving as she did in such an un-accredited way. So she answered at once:

“Athlyne. Lady Athlyne!” The young woman seemed impressed. Saying: “Excuse me a moment” she went into the bar where she lit a candle. She came back in a moment and said very deferentially:

“It’s ‘all recht yer ladyship. There’s twa rooms, a sittin’-room an’ a bed-room. They were originally kept for the Sheriff, but he sent word that he was no comin’. So when the wire came frae th’ ither pairty the rooms were kept for him. When no one arrived the name was crossed aff the slate. But it’s a’ recht! Shall I light a fire yer Leddyship?”

“Oh no! I only require a bedroom. I must get away by the first train in the morning. I shall just lie down as I am. If you can get me a glass of milk and a biscuit that is all I require. If it were possible I should like the milk hot; but if that is not convenient it won’t matter.” As they went upstairs the girl said:

“Ye’ll forgie me yer Leddyship, but I didna ken wha ye were. Mrs. Macpherson was early up to bed the nicht when the fog had settled doon and she knew there was no more traffic. To-morrow is a heavy day here, and things keep up late; and she wanted to be ready for it. An’ she’s michty discreet aboot ony comin’ here wi’oot  —  wi’oot  —  ” She realised that she was getting into deep water and turned the conversation. There is yer candle lit. The fire in the kitchen is hearty yet, an’ I’ll bring yer milk hot in the half-o’ two-twos. I’ll leave word that ye’re to be called in good time in the morn.”

Within a few minutes she came back with the hot milk. Joy was too tired and too anxious to eat; and refusing all proffers of service and of help as to clothing, bade the girl good night. She just drank the milk; and having divested herself of her shoes and stockings which were soiled with travel and of all but her under-clothing, crept in between the sheets. The warmth and the luxury of rest began to tell at once; within a very few minutes she was sound asleep.

CHAPTER 17

THE SHERIFF

It was late in the afternoon when the Sheriff rode into Dairy. The police sergeant spoke to him, and he kindly came into the station. There the sergeant put the matter before him. He was an elderly man, hearty and genial and with a pleasant manner which made every man his friend. When he heard the details of the case, regarding which the policeman asked his advice, he smiled and took snuff and said pleasantly to the officer:

“I don’t think ye need be uneasy in your mind. After all ‘tis only a matter of a fine; and as the chauffeur is ready to pay it, whatever it may be; and is actually in your custody having as you say more than sufficient money upon him to pay the maximum penalty hereto inflicted for furious driving in this shire, I think you will not get much blame for allowing the lady to go away in the car to a ‘foreign country,’ as you call it. I suppose sir” turning to Athlyne “you can get good bail if required?”

“I think so” said Athlyne smiling. “I suppose a Deputy Lieutenant of Ross Shire is good enough;” whereupon he introduced himself to the Sheriff. They chatted together a few minutes and then, as he went to his horse which a policeman was holding at the door, he said to the sergeant:

“I must not, as Sheriff, be bail myself. But if any bail is required I undertake to get it; so I think you needn’t detain his lordship any longer. You’d better serve the summons on him for the next Session and then everything will be in order.”

Athlyne walked down the village with him, he leading his horse. When he knew that Athlyne was going to walk to Casde Douglas so as to be ready to catch his train to the south he said:

‘To-morrow is a busy day there and you may find it hard to get rooms at the Douglas, especially as the fog will detain many travellers. Now I had my rooms reserved at the Walter Scott, kept by an old servant of mine, where I always stay. An hour gone I wired countermanding them as I am going to stay the night with Mulgrave of Ennisfour where I am dining; so perhaps you had better wire over and secure them. I shall be there myself in the morning as I have work in Casde Douglas, but that need not interfere with you. If you go early you may be off before I get there.”

“I do not want to go South very early; so I hope you will breakfast with me if I am still there.” The genial old Sheriff shook his head:

“No, no. You must breakfast with me. I am in my own bailiwick and you must let me be your host.”

“All right!” said Athlyne heartily. The old man who had been looking at him kindly all the time now said:

“Tell me now  —  and you won’t think me rude or inquisitive; but you’re a young man and I’m an old one, and moreover sheriff  —  can I do anything for you? The Sergeant told me you were in a state of desperate anxiety to get away  —  or at any rate to let the lady get off; and I couldn’t help noticing myself that you are still anxious. The policeman said she was young, and much upset about it all. Can I serve you in any way? If I can, it will I assure you be a pleasure to me.” He was so frank and kind and hearty that Athlyne’s heart warmed to him. Moreover he was upset himself, poor fellow; and though he was a man and a strong one, was more than glad to unburden his heart to some one who would be a sympathetic listener:

“The fact is, sir, that the young lady who was with me came for a drive from Ambleside and we came on here on the spur of the moment. Her father had gone to London and returns this evening; and as no one knew that I  —  that she had gone out motoring he will be anxious about her. Naturally neither she nor I wish to make him angry. You will understand when I tell you that she and I are engaged to be married. He does not know this  —  though” here he remembered the letter he had posted at Ambleside “he will doubtless know soon. Unhappily he had some mistaken idea about me. A small matter which no one here would give a second thought to: but he is a Kentuckian and they take some things very much to heart. This was nothing wrong  —  not in any way; but all the same his taking further offence at me, as he would do if he heard from someone else that she had been motoring with me without his sanction, might militate against her happiness  —  and mine. So you can imagine Mr. Sheriff, how grateful I am to you for your kindness.” The sheriff paused before replying. He had been thinking  —  putting two and two together: “They are engaged  —  but her father doesn’t know it Then the engagement was made only to-day. No wonder they were upset and anxious. No wonder he drove fast... Ah, Youth! Youth!”...

“I understand, my lord. Well, you did quite right to get the lady away; though it was a hazardous thing for her to start off alone in the mist.”

“It hadn’t come on then, sir. Had it been so I should never have let her go alone  —  no matter what the consequences might be! But I hope she’s out of it and close to home by this time.”

“Aye that’s so. Still she was wise to go. It avoids all possibility of scandal. Poor bairn! I’m hoping she got off South before the fog came on too thick. It’s drifting up from the Firth so that when once she would have crossed the Border most like it would have been clear enow. Anyhow under the circumstances you are right to stay here. Then there can be no talk whatever. And her father will have had time to cool down by the time ye meet.