the maltese angel (28 page)

"They are drunk. They ..." She screwed up her face.

"He ... one tried. Oh, please! Come! Come now!"

She was pulling at him, and he was running by her side.

When they reached the place where Angela had been dragged from her, she pointed, crying, "Look! There they are," and he was able to make out three figures reeling drunkenly across the open field.

"Where is she? Where is she? Have they taken her? It was here! It was here! It was here!"

Gerald jumped across a shallow ditch and rounded a small group of

bushes, only to come to a stop when he saw something that was to

impinge on his mind for the rest of his life. This delicate,

fairy-like girl whose beauty alone had always touched on his artistic sense and drawn his eyes towards her, lay sprawled, her arms

outstretched, her hands at each side gripping the earth, the bottom of her skirt half covering her face, her lower limbs exposed; and he shut his eyes against the sight, and gripped his face tightly with one hand while he groaned. Then he spun around as he heard Jessie stepping over the ditch; and he cried to her, "No! No! She's here; but she needs help. Get Carl. Go to your people quickly! Go and get help!"

"I must see ..."

"Please, she's in distress. Go and get help."

As she turned from him and leapt the ditch again, calling out as she ran, "Carl! Carl!" he walked slowly to the side of the prone figure and, pulling the skirt down from her face, he slid an arm under her head, saying, "It's all right. It's all right," even though his mind was yelling at him that it would never again be all right for this child, never; and he went on, "Your people are coming. Dear Miss Angela. Oh, dear Miss Angela."

When she made no movement whatever, he thought, Dear God! She's

dead.

Then he dared to put a hand where he thought her heart was, and after a second or two he heaved a deep sigh. And now his hand was stroking the hair, that beautiful, seal-shiny black hair, from her face.

He was not aware of Carl's approach until the bending body over him blocked out the moonlight and the exclamation, '0 . oh! " preceding words which could have been said to be blasphemous, and then the loud and despairing, " No! No! This can't have happened. No! No! "

Gerald looked up at Carl and said quietly, "But it has. We must get her home."

Carl, too, was now kneeling by Angela, patting her face and saying,

"Come on, love. Come on. This is Carl here. Come on. Don't be frightened any more. Come on, love. Come on."

But receiving no response, he muttered, "Oh dear God!" Then looking across at Gerald, he said, "He'll kill them for this; there'll be murder done. He'll kill them surely."

"Do you think we could carry her between us?"

"Aye. Yes. But I can carry her myself."

"There's some way to go; I'd better help you."

After gently pulling up her ripped drawers and straightening her

limbs, Carl picked her up bodily; and Gerald said again, "Let me help,"

and laid her legs across his arm, and together they started towards home.

They were about a quarter of a mile from the farm house when they were aware of Ward tearing towards them; and when he met up with them he stopped for barely a moment to look down on the white face of his

child. Then thrusting out his arms, he relieved them of their

burden;

and without uttering a word he turned and hurried back to the farm.

Gerald followed on with Carl, and as they entered the yard, he said,

"If I could use your horse I could ride for the doctor."

Carl turned to him.

"Yes. Yes, by all means, yes. But wait! I should see what the master says." But then shaking his head, he said, "No.

She'll need a doctor. Oh yes, she'll need a doctor. "

Patsy could be seen standing in the light from the open door. Her

hands were joined at her throat, and Ward called to her, "Go and get Annie!"

After the evening meal, because of the condition of her legs, Annie usually returned to her cottage, leaving the washing-up and the

preparation for the following morning's breakfast to Patsy. And Patsy had been attending to these dudes when Jessie, like a wild woman, had dashed through the kitchen, calling for her father.

She now took to her heels and ran to Annie's cottage and, banging on the door, she cried, "Are you in bed?"

Annie's answer came back to her, "I'm getting ready for it. What's the matter with you now?"

When the door was pulled open. Patsy gasped, "The master ... he's just carried Miss Angela in. She looks dead. And Miss Jessie's been

attacked, the clothes torn from her back."

"Dear God! What are you saying, girl?" Annie demanded at the same time reaching out to lift her shawl from the back of the door and

putting it arounc shoulders. Then she was shambling as fast as her i

^f would carry her towards the house .

Fifteen minutes later she and Patsy gently drew the last of the clothes from Angela's bruised body. They were both crying, and it could be said they were both frightened of the master, and for him.

Ward had not spoken a word until he saw that they had been about to wash his daughter's limbs; and then he said, "Leave them until I get the doctor."

Patsy now muttered quietly, "He's been sent for, master. Mr. Gerald from the Hall, he's gone for him."

At this. Ward stood back and waited for them to put her into a

nightdress, when he said simply, "Leave her," which they did. Annie went down into the kitchen where Carl was waiting; Patsy went to the bathroom where she knew Jessie would be. However, receiving no answer to her knock, she gently pushed open the door, to see the girl sitting on a stool. She was in her nightdress, her clothes lying in a heap on the floor; she turned her white and scared face towards Patsy, and her lips trembled as she muttered, "Oh, Patsy, Patsy."

Kneeling by the girl's side. Patsy put her arms about her and brought her head on to her shoulder, and as a mother would, she comforted her, saying, "There, there, dear. There, there. It's all over." And when Jessie murmured, "No, no; never will be, never will be," she countered,

"Yes; yes, it will. It'll fade away with time. I know.

These things do. "

When Jessie's sobs shook them both. Patsy didn't say, "Don't cry, my dear," she murmured softly, "That's it. That's it: get it out of you,"

at the same time hoping that the death-like figure in the bedroom along the landing would soon wake up and that she, too, would cry.

Perhaps, too, she would have something more to cry about. God help her. Oh, yes. God help her. Three of them! Oh Jesus in heaven! For such a thing to happen, and to a child such as Angela, so fragile, so light and airy

as was her mother. As Annie had said, it would seem she was a twin fairy. Oh, this house. She'd be glad when she got out of it . when they both got out of it. But what was she talking about? Would Carl leave the master now, being able only to guess what his reactions would be to this outrage? And could she leave this girl, leave the pair of them with Annie, who could hardly trot now? Oh, and she had thought ..

she shook her head .. enough of her own wants at the moment, for there would be more tragedies afore another day was out, if she knew anything about it.

"Come," she said now; 'dry your eyes. There you are. And lie yourself down in the spare room. If Doctor Patten comes, he'll likely see you and give you a draught. "

Jessie pulled herself up from the stool, saying, "I want no draught. I must go to Angela."

"No. No, dear; your father's with her, and he sent us out. Leave him be until after the doctor's been. Come;

do as I say now, and lie yourself down. I'll get you a hot drink, hot milk with nutmeg in it, the way you like it. It's very soothing. "

Jessie allowed herself to be led out of the bathroom and to the end of the landing; and in the spare room, Patsy said, "The bed'll be still aired: you both slept in it not two weeks ago when I turned your room out. You lie down now, and I'll be back directly."

As Patsy made to move away Jessie stretched out her hand and, gripping her wrist, spoke in a voice that held a plea and a question.

"What'll happen? What'll happen to her?"

"I don't know yet, my dear. I don't know yet."

Then are dreadful, aren't they, Patsy? Dreadful, dreadful. "

"Not all, dear. Not all. Lie down now. Lie down." And Patsy unwound the fingers from her wrist; then went quickly out of the room and stood on the landing for a moment, her hands gripped tightly against her neck as she was wont to do when agitated or worried.

As she went to go down the stairs, so the doctor was about to come up;

and on sight of her, he stepped back and bade her descend; then without a word he passed her, and she continued to the kitchen, there to see the young master from the Hall talking to Carl; and she was surprised to hear his voice almost breaking as if he were on the verge of tears as he said, "I'll never forget this night. I'll call in the morning to see how she's faring."

"Yes; do that." Carl was nodding at him.

The young man inclined his head towards Annie, saying now, "Good night," and she answered, "Good night, sir. And whatever happens, you are to be thanked for your help."

He made no response, but stared straight at her for a moment before turning and going out.

Looking at Annie now, the while pulling a chair forward, Carl said,

"Here, get off your feet," and she obediently sat down. Then he asked of Patsy, "How's Miss Jessie?"

"In a state. I'm going to make her a hot drink. I think the doctor should see her and give her a draught," which brought the immediate response from Annie, "Oh, I'd better go up and tell him then. And he might need assistance."

"Stay where you are," said Carl; "Patsy can go and wait outside until he finishes what he has to do. She can tell him what is needed. And he'll have something to tell too. My God! he will at that. But

speaking of draughts, I think it's the master who needs one; I'm

fearful for him." ..

It was a full half hour before Philip Patten finished what he had to do. Even before he began his examination he had been aghast, and when, in a small voice, he had ventured to say, "I think I should have Annie here," Ward had come back with, "What help you need, I'm here." And so it had been.

Now that it was completed, Ward asked him in what appeared a

deceptively calm voice, "Will she live?" And

Philip answered, "I hope so: her heart is strong; but this will depend upon her will."

"Her will?"

"Yes. Yes, I said her will."

"Why doesn't she open her eyes? Is she unconscious?"

"She's in shock; and she might be like this for ... well, two or three days. I can't tell you how long. On the other hand she might awaken tomorrow morning after the draught I have given her has worn off."

Philip Patten watched Ward look down on his daughter, and what the man said next and how he said it sent a shiver through him.

"She is fifteen. Her woman time began last year; there could be results," he said; then turning slowly to confront Philip, he stated rather than questioned, "Even with the damage that's been done, there could still be results, couldn't there?"

Philip Patten gulped in his throat, and he had to look away from the eyes that were staring into his before he could say, "That's to be seen; only .. only the future can say yes or no to that." And on Ward's next words, he had to turn his back on both the bed and the man, for Ward said, "Three of them couldn't miss, could they?"

Philip made no reply, but then almost jumped when the voice barked at him, "Could they?" and he swung round to face the distraught man, saying, "We don't know if there were three. I mean, there were three men there, so I understand, but ..."

"Then I ask you, doctor, could one man have done that damage?"

"Yes. Yes, he could." Philip Patten's head was bobbing now and his voice was loud.

"But three could do more harm, couldn't they?"

"Ward. Ward." Philip's head was drooped almost on to his chest, and there was a plea in his voice as he said, "We don't know."

"You don't know? You didn't see Jessie when she came in, half mad, the clothes torn off her back. She managed to escape; so, would that one be satisfied? No; he would take his turn."

"Oh, for God's sake! Ward. You've got to stop this way of thinking, else it will drive you to do something that can only bring disaster.

You must let it be dealt with by the authorities. I will contact the police myself. "

"Oh no! 0 ... oh! no; you'll do no such thing, doctor!" And besides shaking his head, allowed his body, too, to follow the movement as if to emphasise his request: "I'm asking as a favour, don't go to the police."

"What! But those men must be punished. And you mustn't, Ward. No, you must not take it into your own hands. That will mean murder; and what will happen? You'll swing. Putting it plainly, you'll swing. And how will your girls be left then? What protection will they have?"

"Who's speaking of murder? I am not going to murder them. After what I intend to do, their own consciences, and the village, will murder them in their own way; just as they have murdered me over the years."

Definitely puzzled now, Philip said, "What ... ? Well, I mean, what do you mean to do?"

"What do I mean to do?" Ward looked to the side. He had seen what he meant to do from the moment he had looked down on his daughter's

ravished body. Although the method of its accomplishment was not

wholly formed in his mind, in one part it was indeed very clear; but he had as yet to work out how to bring it about, and so he said, "Just leave things for a few days, will you, doctor? I'll come back to you in, say a week."

"A week! But they'll think they've got off with it. And what about Doctor Wheadey, when he gets wind of it?"

"I would think that if I don't make any move your superior won't. What do you think?"

What Philip thought was: Ward is right, for if a scandal such as this were to break it would scar his village, for just as it was usual for the parson never to