Drop of the Dice (50 page)

“But he’s done it, mistress. Good as said so.”

“Just a minute. I want to go over to the Hall.”

Jake looked as if he were preparing to run and I was more convinced than ever.

“Come,” I said, “we’re going now.”

My mother was surprised to see me marching in with Ned Carter and his terrified son.

“What’s the trouble?” she cried.

“Is Dickon here?” I asked.

“He’s out riding with Sabrina, I think. Why?”

“I want to see him rather urgently.” It was fortunate, for at that moment they came in flushed from the ride. It couldn’t have been more convenient.

Dickon betrayed himself in the first seconds, so taken off his guard was he to see the Carters there.

He turned to the door.

“I’ve forgotten my …”

He paused, for I was barring his way.

“Just a minute,” I said. “Jake has been accused of starting the fire at Farmer Hassock’s barn. But I don’t think he was alone.”

“I reckon he was,” said Dickon.

“No,” I said, “I reckon he had a companion, and that it was you.”

“No,” he cried. He strode over to the cowering Jake. “You been telling tales.”

“He has not mentioned you,” I said.

“Oh, Zipporah dear,” said my mother. “Why bother with all this? How is poor Jean-Louis?”

“What is bothering me,” I said with unaccustomed firmness, which the thought of any injustice could arouse in me, bringing me out of my mildness in a way which once or twice in my life had astonished people, “is that Jake Carter is being blamed for something which he only did because he was forced to by someone else.”

“No… no …” said Jake. “I done it. It was me that lighted the fire in the pail.”

“I’m going out to Vesta,” said Dickon. “I reckon her pups are just ready to be born. She might have them by now.”

“You can wait a little while before you go to see them,” I said. “For instance, after you have told us who took the meat from the pantry and who made Jake take the pail and accompany him to the barn where the fire was made and got out of hand, and then ran away with Jake.”

“Why do you ask me?” he said insolently.

“Because I happen to know the answer and that you were this culprit.”

“It’s a lie,” he said.

I took him by the arm. His glare was venomous. It shocked me to see such a look in one so young.

“I saw you,” I said. “It’s no use denying it. I saw you with the pail. You were carrying it… Jake had a bundle of something. I saw you making for the Hassock farm.”

There was a deep silence.

Then Dickon said: “It’s all silly. It was only a game. We didn’t mean to set fire to the old barn.”

“But you did,” I said. “And you made Jake go with you. And then you left him to take the blame.”

“Oh, we’ll pay for the damage that was done to the barn,” said Sabrina.

“Of course,” I replied, “but that doesn’t settle the matter.”

“It does,” said Dickon.

“Oh, no. You have to tell Ned Carter that his boy was not to blame.”

“Oh, what a silly lot of trouble about nothing,” he said.

I looked at him steadily. “I don’t think it is nothing,” I said. I went on: “Ned, you can go now. It was not Jake’s fault, remember that. He was led into this. I am sure my husband will be very upset if he hears that you have punished the boy. He only did what he was ordered to do. You can go now.”

There was a silence in the Hall after they had gone.

Sabrina and my mother were very upset. Dickon came over to me and looked at me through narrowed eyes. He said in a very low voice: “I won’t forget this.”

“No,” I answered, “nor shall I.”

He ran out saying he was going to the stable to look for Vesta.

Sabrina said: “Of course boys do get up to these pranks.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “They do. But when they are caught good boys do not stand aside and let someone else take the blame, particularly someone who is not in a position to defend himself.”

They were shocked into silence. They could not bear criticism of their beloved child.

Then I said quite suddenly so that I surprised myself:

“I’ve decided to go to Eversleigh as we arranged.”

They were startled. “Jean-Louis …” began my mother.

“Cannot go, of course. He is well looked after here. I shall wait a week or so, of course, and when I consider I can leave him I shall go as arranged. I am sure Lord Eversleigh would be very upset if I didn’t go and I shall only be away for a short while.”

It was as though my other self was preparing to take possession.

There was a great deal of opposition to my proposal to go to Eversleigh without Jean-Louis. My mother said she would not have a moment’s peace until she had heard that I had arrived safely, and after that there would be the journey home again to be undertaken. Sabrina added her voice to my mother’s. There had rarely been so much highway robbery as there was at this time, she informed me, and those dreadful villains stopped at nothing.

Dickon added: “They shoot you dead, you know, if you won’t hand over your money.”

I felt he would be quite amused if such a mishap overtook me, for our relationship had not improved since the discovery of the cause of the fire in Farmer Hassock’s barn.

Jean-Louis’s reaction was as I expected it to be. One of resignation and determination that my desire to go should not be thwarted. He was hobbling round the house and was able to go round the estate in a kind of go-cart, which was a great relief to him for the frustration of being cut off from his work would have been hard to bear.

“You see,” I explained, to him, “I have a feeling that I must go. That second letter from the old man… there was something about it. Sabrina said it was like a cry for help. That’s rather fanciful, I suppose, but on the other hand, there did seem to be something in it… in a strange sort of way.”

“What worries me most is the journey,” said Jean-Louis. “If I could feel that you would be safe …”

“Oh, Jean-Louis,” I cried, “people are making journeys every day. We don’t hear of the thousands who arrive safely. There is always such a lot of talk when there is a mishap.”

“Some parts of the road are very dangerous… notorious haunts of highwaymen.”

“We shall avoid those and I shall have protection.”

“Your mother is very much against it.”

“I know. She was in an accident when she was a child and has never forgotten it. I’ll be all right, Jean-Louis.”

He looked at me earnestly. “You very much want to go, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said. “I have a strong feeling that I should.”

“I understand.” He did understand. He was a quiet and thoughtful man and often understood my thoughts before I had expressed them. I believe now that he was thinking that life was beginning to pall; that I was looking for excitement. He did not want me to grow vaguely dissatisfied, which perhaps I was doing without realizing it. However, being Jean-Louis he was constructive rather than destructive; instead of deciding that the journey was impossibly dangerous, he set about planning how to make it as safe as possible.

“I think you should have six grooms,” he said. “They can return as soon as you are safely delivered; and then come back for you when you return. Those and one more for the saddle horse and you will be a considerable party.”

I kissed him. I felt brimming over with love.

“Well?” he said.

“I think I have the best husband in the world,” I told him.

It was typical of him that he should hide his apprehension from me; he seemed to grow quite excited about the preparations as I discussed with him what I should take and the route we should travel.

It was on a lovely morning when we set out—a typical June day with the sun newly risen to give us a pleasant early morning warmth and the promise of a fine day. We made good progress and the feeling of expectation was growing. Every thing seemed to be more vivid than usual. Butterflies the purest white against the purple buddleia, the hum of the bees at work on vivid blue borage and clover, moon daisies in the fields with the buttercups and cowslips and the glimpse of the scarlet pimpernel on the edges of the cornfields—these miracles of nature, which I had taken for granted all my life, seemed especially wonderful.

We should have two stops on our journey and the arrangements at the inn had been most carefully made so, as expected, there was no difficulty about accommodation when we made our first stop in good time.

I did not sleep very well. I was too excited, and the next day, as soon as the first streaks of dawn were in the sky, I was getting ready to pursue our journey.

The morning passed swiftly and equally without untoward incident and then we were soon on the last lap of our journey.

We planned to reach Eversleigh by about four o’clock in the afternoon, but unfortunately, when we stopped at an inn for refreshment just before midday, we discovered one of the grooms’ horses had cast a shoe. This would delay us a little, and we wondered whether we should leave the groom to wait for his horse and go on without him or all remain until his horse was fit for the road.

I was uncertain, but my mother had made me promise that I would not ride without all the grooms in attendance, and after some deliberation I decided that we should wait for the horse to be shod and then all go together, which should not delay us very long.

It did, however, take longer than I had at first thought it would, for the blacksmith was not in his forge; he had had an urgent call to go over to a nearby mansion where the squire had some commission for him. We were assured that he would return within a very short time. The short time grew into a long time, and I began to wonder whether it would have been wiser to go on without the groom. After all, we should only be one man short.

It was then four o’clock and we had planned to leave just after midday, and as I was deciding that we should go on, for we had no reservation at an inn for the night and did not know where we should find one, the blacksmith returned.

He would get the work done right away, he said, and the horse would be fit for the road before we could say “God bless the king.”

It wasn’t quite as speedy as that but eventually we were on the road. Thus it was that by the time we reached Eversleigh Court it was growing dark.

L
ONG AGO I HAD
been to Eversleigh Court and vaguely remembered it. I must have spent many Christmases there when I was a child because it had always been the center of the family. When the old people died and my mother went to live permanently in the country after the death of my father, we had not visited the old house. General Eversleigh, who had been fond of my mother, and who had in fact introduced my father into the family in the first place, had taken over the management of the estate for a while, but that other Carl—Lord Eversleigh’s son—was the real heir to the estate as well as to the title, and when the general had died Carl Lord Eversleigh must have felt in duty bound to come back—I was not sure from where—and settle at Eversleigh.

My excitement was intense. I had during the journey been trying to look back and remember what I had heard about the family who had inhabited the great house during its heyday. I recalled there was a lot of talk about Enderby, that house of gloom which was wrapped in a kind of supernatural mystery. I had decided I would take a look at it at the first opportunity, but in the meantime here was Eversleigh Court.

A high wall loomed up in front of us. The gates were open; I thought this must be to welcome us. We rode through. It was too dark to see the house clearly, but memories of long ago came flooding back and the vague feeling of familiarity was comforting.

There was no sound from the house. Then I caught sight of flickering light in one of the upper windows. There was a dark shadow there. Someone must have been standing there holding a candle and looking out—perhaps awaiting our arrival.

I was rather surprised that the great door remained closed, as we must have been expected, and the sound of the horses must have been heard on the gravel of the drive.

We waited a few moments for the grooms to come and take the horses, but no one came and the house remained in darkness,

I said: “As we’re so late they must have thought we wouldn’t arrive tonight. Ring the bell. That will let them know we’re here.”

One of the grooms dismounted and did as I bid. I remembered the bell from long ago. It had always fascinated me and I used to enjoy pulling the rope and listening to the clamor it made throughout the house.

I sat on my horse, looking at the door, waiting for the moment when it would be flung open and someone would appear to welcome us.

There was silence when the bell ceased to clang. I began to feel a little uneasy. This was not the welcome I had expected from Lord Eversleigh’s letters.

At last the door opened. A young woman stood there. I could not see her very clearly but she struck me immediately as being something of a slattern.

“What you be wanting?” she demanded.

I said: “I am Mistress Zipporah Ransome. Lord Eversleigh is expecting me.”

The woman looked amazed. I thought she was half-witted. I tried to peer behind her but the hall was not lighted and there was only the dim glow from the one candle which she had set down when she unbolted the door.

One of my grooms held my horse while I dismounted and approached the door.

“Lord Eversleigh is expecting me,” I said. “Take me to him. Who is in charge of the household?”

“That would be Mistress Jessie,” she said.

“Then will you please call Mistress Jessie? In the meantime I will come in. Where are the stables? My grooms are tired and hungry. Is there someone who can help with the horses?”

“There’s Jethro. I’ll get Mistress Jessie.”

“Please do so… quickly,” I answered, “because we have had a long journey.”

She was about to shut the door but I held it open and, as she scuttled away, stepped into the hall.

She had left her candle on the long oak table and it threw a rather eerie light about the place.

It occurred to me that there was something very strange going on here. I kept thinking of what Sabrina had said: “Calling for help!” It did not seem so very incongruous now.