The Watchers: A Novel

  CHAPTER VIII

  HELEN MAYLE

  A loud rapping on the door roused me. The mist had cleared away, andout of the open window I could see a long sunlit slope of gorse allyellow and purple stretching upwards, and over the slope a great spaceof blue sky whereon the clouds sailed like racing boats in a strongbreeze. The door was thrust open and Dick Parmiter entered.

  "You keep London hours, sir," said he, standing at the foot of thebed, and he happened to raise his eyes. "What's that?" he asked.

  _That_ was the silk scarf still dangling from the cross-bar, and thesight of it brought back to me in a flash my adventure of the night.With the clear sunlight filling the room and the bright wind chasingthe clouds over the sky, I could hardly believe that it had reallyoccurred. But the silk scarf hung between the posts.

  "My God," I cried out. "What if I had never waked up!"

  There would have been the sunlight and the wind in the sky as now,but, facing me, no longer swaying, but still, inert, horrible, Ishould have seen--and I clapped my hands over my face, so distinct wasthis unspeakable vision to me, and cried out again: "What if I had notwaked up!

  "You have not waked up very early," said Dick, looking at mecuriously, and recovering my self-possession I hasten to explain.

  "I have had dreams, Dick. The strange room! I am barely awake yet."

  It appeared that I was not the only one to keep London hours thatmorning. It was close upon mid-day and Dick had not waked me before,because he had not before had speech with the mistress of the house.Helen Mayle had risen late. But she knew now of my presence in thehouse and what had brought me, and was waiting to offer me her thanks.

  In spite of this news that she was waiting, I made my toilette veryslowly. It would be the most awkward, embarrassing meeting imaginable.How could one bow and smile and exchange the trivial courtesies with agirl whom one had saved from that silk noose some eight hours before?With what countenance would she greet me? Would she resent myinterference? Dick, however, had plainly noticed nothing unusual inher demeanour; I consoled myself with that reflection. He noticed,however, something unusual here in my room, for as I tied my cravatbefore the mirror I saw that he was curiously looking at the silkscarf.

  "Perhaps you have seen it before," said I without turning round. Dickstarted, then he coloured.

  "I was wondering why it hung there," said he.

  "It _is_ curious," said I calmly, and I stood upon the bed and withsome trouble, for the knots were stiff, I took it down and thrust itinto the pocket of my coat.

  "It is yours?" cried Dick.

  "One silk scarf is very like another," said I, and he coloured againand was silent. His silence was fortunate, since if he had asked towhat end I had hung it above my bed, I should have been hard put to itfor an answer.

  "I am ready," said I, and we walked along the passage to thebalustrade, and the head of the stairs where I had crept on tiptoeduring the night.

  I noticed certain marks, a few dents, a few scratches on the panels ofthe wall at the head of the stairs, and I was glad to notice them, forthey reminded me of the business upon which I had come and of certainconjectures which Dick had suggested to my mind. It was at the head ofthe stairs that Adam Mayle had stood when he drove out his son. Themarks no doubt were the marks of that handful of guineas which Cullenhad flung to splatter and sparkle against the wall behind his father'shead. I was glad to notice them, as I say, for the tragical incidentin which I had borne a share that night had driven Cullen Mayle'spredicament entirely from my thoughts.

  I saw the flutter of a dress at the foot of the stairs, and a facelooked up to mine. It was the face which I had seen on a level withmine in the black gloom of the night, and as I saw it now in the clearlight of day, I stopped amazed. It wore no expression ofembarrassment, no plea for silence. She met me with a grateful welcomein her eyes as for one who had come unexpectedly to do her a service,and perhaps a hint of curiosity as to why I should have come at all.

  "Dick has told me of you," she said, as she held out her hand. "Youare very kind. Until this morning I did not even know the reason ofDick's journey to London. I was not aware that he had paid a visit toLieutenant Clutterbuck."

  There was a trifle of awkwardness in her voice as she pronounced hisname. I could not help feeling and no doubt expressing someawkwardness as I heard it. Lieutenant Clutterbuck had not hesitated toaccuse her of duplicity; I at all events could not but acknowledgethat she was excellently versed in the woman's arts of concealment.There was thus a moment's silence before I answered.

  "You will accept me I hope as Lieutenant Clutterbuck's proxy."

  "We had no right," she returned, "to expect any service fromLieutenant Clutterbuck, much less from----" and she hesitated andstopped abruptly.

  "From a stranger you would have said," I added.

  "We shall count you a stranger no longer," she said, with a franksmile, and that I might not be outdone in politeness, I said:

  "If Dick had lacked discretion and told you all that he might havetold, you would understand that the obligation is upon my side. Forwhereas I do not know that I can render you any service whatever, I doknow that already you have rendered me a great one."

  "That is very prettily said," she returned, as she walked into theparlour.

  "Truth at times," I answered lightly as I followed her, "can be aspretty as the most ingenious lie."

  So that first awkward meeting was past. I took my cue from herreticence, but without her success. I could not imitate her completeunconsciousness. It seemed she had no troubles. She sat at the tablein a flow of the highest spirits. Smiles came readily to her lips, andher eyes laughed in unison. She was pale and the pallor was the moremarked on account of her dark hair and eyes, but the blood came andwent in her cheeks, and gave to her an infinite variety of expression.I could hardly believe that this voice which was now lively withcontentment was the voice which had uttered that kecking sound in thenight, or that the eyes which now sparkled and flashed were the eyeswhich had stared at me through the gloom. No doubt I looked at herwith more curiosity than was convenient; at all events she said, witha laugh:

  "I would give much to know what picture Dick painted of me, for if Imay judge from your looks, Mr. Berkeley, the likeness is very unliketo the original."

  I felt my cheeks grow hot, and cast about for a reason to excuse mycuriosity. Her own words suggested the reason.

  "Dick told me," I said, "of a woman in great distress and perplexity,whose house was watched, who dreaded why it was watched----"

  "And you find a woman on the top of her spirits," she broke in, andwas silent for a little, looking at the cloth. "And very likely," shecontinued slowly, "you are disposed to think that you have been misledand persuaded hither for no more than a trivial purpose."

  "No," I protested. "No such thought occurred to me," and in my anxietyto free myself from the suspicion of this imputation I broke throughthat compact of silence upon which we seemed silently to have agreed."I have no reason for pride, God knows, but indeed, Madam, I am not soutterly despicable as to regret that I came to Tresco and crept intoyour house last night. Already,--suppose there was nothing more forme to do but to wish you a good-morning and betake myself back totown--already I have every reason to be glad that I came, for if I hadnot come----" and I stopped.

  Helen Mayle listened to me with some surprise of manner at theearnestness with which I spoke and when I stopped so abruptly, sheblushed and her eyes again sought the table.

  "Yes," she said quietly, "Mr. Berkeley, you have guessed the reason ofmy good spirits. If you had not come, a woman in great distress andperplexity would be wandering restlessly about the house, as she didyesterday."

  Her eyes were still fixed upon the table, or she must have remarked myastonishment and the pretence would at once and for all have been tornaway from between us. I leaned back in my chair; it was as much as Icould do to stifle an exclamation. If I had not come,
a woman's spiritmight be wandering to-day restlessly from room to room, but thewoman--I had the silk scarf in my coat-pocket to assure me she wouldnot.

  "The distress and perplexity," she continued, "are not done with, butto-day a hand has been stretched to me out of the dark, and I mustthink, to some good end. It could not be otherwise," and she liftedher eyes to mine. I did not doubt their sincerity. "And--shall I tellyou?" she continued with a frank smile. "I am glad, though I hardlyknow why--I am glad that the man who stretched out his hand was quiteunknown to me and himself knew nothing of me, and had not so much asseen my face. He helps a woman, not _one_ woman. I am more gratefulfor that, I take it to be of good augury." And she held her hand tome.

  I took the hand; I was tempted to let her remain in hermisapprehension. But sooner or later she would learn the truth, and itseemed to me best that she should learn something of it from me.

  "Madam," I said, "I should account myself happy if I could honestlyagree, but I fear it was not on a woman's account that I travelleddown to Tresco. Dick I think had something to do with it, but chieflyI came to do myself a service."

  "Well," she answered as she rose and crossed to the window "that maybe. You are here at all events, in the house that is watched" and thenshe suddenly called me to her side. "Look," said she, "but keep wellbehind the curtain."

  I looked across the water to a brown pile of rocks which was namedNorwithel, and beyond Norwithel over St. Helen's Pool to the island ofSt. Helen's.

  "Do you see?" she asked.

  I saw the bare rock, the purple heather of St. Helen's, to the right awide shining beach of Tean, and to the left stretching out into thesea from the end of St. Helen's a low ridge of rocks like a pavedcauseway. I pointed to that causeway.

  "That is the Golden Ball Reef," said I.

  "Yes," she answered, "Dick told you the story. You would not see thereef, but that the tide is low. But it is not that I wanted to showyou. See!" and she stretched out her hand towards the rock pile ofNorwithel.

  I looked there again and at last I saw a man moving on the rocks closeby the sea.

  "He is cutting the weed," said I.

  "That is the pretence," said she. "But so long as he stays there noone can enter this house without he knows, no one can go out withouthe knows."

  "Unless one goes in or out by the door I used."

  "That door is within view of the Castle Down. There will be some mansmoking his pipe, stretched on the grass of the Castle Down."

  "You have never spoken to them?"

  "Yes! They wanted nothing of me. They only watch. I know for whom theywatch. I could learn nothing by questioning them."

  "Have you asked Captain Hathaway's help?"

  Helen smiled.

  "No. What could he do? They do no one any hurt. They stand out of myway when I pass. And besides--I am afraid. I do not know. If these menwere questioned closely by some one in authority, what story mightthey have to tell and what part in that story does Cullen play?"

  I hesitated for a few moments whether to risk the words which were onmy lips. I made an effort and spoke them.

  "You will pardon the question--I have once met Cullen Mayle--and is heworth all this anxiety?"

  "He had a strange upbringing in this house. There is much to excusehim in the eyes of any one. And for myself I cannot forget that allwhich people say is mine, is more rightly his."

  She spoke very gently about Cullen, as I had indeed expected that shewould, but with sufficient firmness to prove to me that it was notworth while to continue upon this strain.

  "And the negro?" I asked. "He has not spoken?"

  For answer she led me up the stairs, and into a room which opened uponthe landing. The negro lay in bed and asleep. The flesh had shrivelledoff his bones, his face was thin and peaked, and plainly his days werenumbered. Helen leaned over the bed, spoke to him and pressed upon hisshoulder. The negro opened his eyes. Never in my life had I seenanything so melancholy as their expression. The conviction of hishelplessness was written upon them and I think too an appeal forforgiveness that he had not discharged his mission.

  "Speak to him," said Helen. "Perhaps a stranger's voice may rouse himif only to speak two words."

  I spoke to him as she bade me; a look of intelligence came into thenegro's face; I put a question to him.

  "Why does George Glen watch for Cullen Mayle?"--and before I hadcompleted the sentence his eyelids closed languidly over his eyes andhe was asleep. I looked at him as he lay there, an emaciatedmotionless figure, the white bedclothes against his ebony skin, and asI thought of his long travels ending so purposelessly in thiscaptivity of sleep, I was filled with a great pity. Helen uttered amoan, she turned towards me wringing her hands.

  "And there's our secret," she cried, "the secret which we must knowand which this poor negro burns to tell and it's locked up within him!Bolts and bars," she burst out, "what puny things they seem! One canbreak bolts, one can sever bars, but a secret buried within a man, howshall one unearth it?"

  It just occurred to me that she stopped with unusual abruptness, but Iwas looking at the negro, I was still occupied with pity.

  "Heaven send my journey does not end so vainly as his," I saidsolemnly. I turned to Helen and I saw that she was staring at me witha great astonishment, and concern for which I could not account.

  "I have a conjecture to tell you of," said I, "I do not know that itis of value."

  "Let us go downstairs," she replied, "and you shall tell me," but shespoke slowly as though she was puzzled with some other matter. As wewent downstairs I heard Dick Parmiter's voice and could understand thewords he said. I stopped.

  "Where is Dick?"

  "Most likely in the kitchen."

  When we were come to the foot of the stairs I asked where the kitchenwas?

  "At the end of that passage across the hall," she answered.

  Upon that I called Dick. I heard a door open and shut, and Dick cameinto the hall.

  "The kitchen door was closed," said I, "I do not know but what myconjecture may have some value after all."

  Helen Mayle walked into the parlour, Dick followed her. As I crossedthe hall my coat caught on the back of a chair. Whilst I wasdisengaging my coat, I noticed that an end of the white scarf washanging from my pocket and that the initials "H. M." were embroideredupon it. I recollected then how Helen Mayle had abruptly ended heroutcry concerning the bolts and bars, and how she had looked at me andhow she had spoken. Had she noticed the scarf? I thrust it back intomy pocket and took care that the flap of the pocket should hide itcompletely. Then I, too, went into the parlour. But as I entered theroom I saw then Helen's eyes went at once to my pocket. She had, then,noticed the scarf. It seemed, however, that she was no longerperplexed as to how I came by it. But, on the other hand, it was myturn to be perplexed. For, as she raised her eyes from my pocket, ourglances crossed. It was evident to her that I had detected her lookand understood it. Yet she smiled--without any embarrassment; it wasas though she thought I had stolen her scarf for a favour and sheforgave the theft. And then she blushed. That, however, she was veryready to do upon all occasions.