Bride of Pendorric (18 page)

” The car’s not far off. Come on! Let’s get home.”

When we drove up to the portico Morwenna was busy forking plantains from the stretch of lawn. Roe slammed the car door and shouted:

“Someone must have uprooted the danger board on the cliff path. I just stopped Favel going along it in time.”

Morwenna stood up looking startled. ” Who on earth …?” she began. ” Some kids, I expect. It ought to be reported. It suddenly occurred to me that she might go that way—and she did.”

” I’ve often been over it when the danger board’s been up.”

” There was a bad landslide,” Roe said shortly. He turned to me.

“The path shouldn’t be used until they’ve done something about it. I’m going to speak to Admiral Weston-the chairman of the local council.” Charles had come round by the side of the house; I noticed that his boots were muddy.

“Anything wrong?”

Roe repeated the story of what he seemed to regard as my narrow escape.

” Visitors,” grumbled Charles. ” I bet it’s visitors.”

” All’s well that ends well,” said Morwenna, drawing off her gardening gloves. ” I’ve had enough for to-day. I could do with a drink. What about you, Favel? I expect Roe could do with one, and Charles never says no.”

We went into the house to a little parlour leading off the hall.

Morwenna took drinks from a cabinet and while she was serving them Rachel Bective came in with Hyson. They were wearing slippers, and Morwenna’s look of approval called my attention to them. I guessed they had changed at the side door where the gum-boots and house shoes were kept ready for occasions like this.

The subject of the notice-board was brought up again, and Rachel Bective did not look at me as she said: ” That could have been dangerous. It was a good thing you remembered, Roe.” Hyson was staring at her slippers, and I fancied I saw a slight smile curve her lips. ” Where’s Lowella?” asked Morwenna.

Neither Rachel nor Hyson had any idea.

It was five or ten minutes later when Lowella joined us, and she was immediately followed by Deborah. Lowella told us that she had been swimming; and Deborah had obviously just got up from her usual afternoon nap, she still looked sleepy; and no one mentioned the notice-board incident after that, but I could sec that several of them

hadn’t forgotten it. Roe still looked worried; Rachel Bective almost rueful;

and Hyson secretive, as though she knew something which she was determined not to tell. I half wondered whether Hyson had removed the board. She knew where I had gone and that I’d probably come home by the short cut. She might even have watched me. But what reason could she possibly have for doing it? There might be more than a streak of mischief in her nature. But, I decided. Roe had made a great deal out of something not very important, simply because of his love for me.

I felt rather cosily content, until the following day, when the doubts began.

The weather had completely changed by next morning. The sky was a guileless blue, and the sea sparkled so brilliantly that it was almost too dazzling to contemplate. It was like a sheet of silk with scarcely a ripple in it. Roe took me with him to the forge, where one of his horses was being shod that morning. I was offered another glass of cider from the barrel in the corner; and while young Jim shod the horse, Dinah came into the forge to give me the benefit of her bold lustrous stare; I guessed that she was wondering about my relationship with Roe, and that made me suspect that he and she had been on intimate terms at some time and that she was trying to convey this to me.

” Maybe,” she said, ” I’ll tell Mrs. Pendorric’s fortune one day.”

Old Jim murmured that he doubted whether Mrs. Pendorric would be interested in such nonsense.

She ignored him. ” I’m good with the cards but it’s your own hand and me crystal that’s best. I could tell you a fine fortune, Mrs.

She smiled, throwing back her dark head so that the gold-coloured rings in her ears danced.

” One day perhaps …” I murmured.

” Don’t make it too long. Delay’s dangerous.”

When we left the forge and passed the row of cottages I saw an old man sitting at the door of one of them.

“Morning, Jesse,” called Roe.

” Morning sir.”

” We must speak to Jesse Pleydell,” Roe whispered.

The gnarled hands were grasping the bony knees and they were trembling. I wondered why; then I saw how very old he was and thought this was the reason.

” Be that your lady as is with you, sir?” he asked gently. ” It is, Jesse; she’s come to make your acquaintance.”

” How do you do,” I said. ” Your daughter was talking to me about you.”

” She be a good girl, my Bessie … and Maria, she be good too. Don’t know what I’d do without ‘em … now I be so old and infirm like. Tis a pleasure to think of her … up at the House.”

” We wish that you could be there too, Jesse,” said Roe, and the gentleness of his voice delighted me and made me feel as happy as I had before Dinah Bond had put misgivings into my mind. ” Ay, sir, that’s where my place be. But since my eyes was took from me, it’s little use I be to God or man.”

” Nonsense, we’re all proud of you, Jesse. You’ve only got to live another twenty years and you’ll make Pendorric famous.”

” Always one for a joke. Master Roe … like his father. Now he were one for a joke till …” His hands began to plucfc at the cloth of his trousers nervously.

“Like father, like son,” said Roe.

“Well, we must be moving on.” On impulse I stepped closer to the old man and laid a hand on his shoulder. He was very still, and a smile touched his lips. ” I’ll come and see you again,” I said.

He nodded, and his hands began to tremble again as they sought his bony knee-caps and rested there.

” Tis like old times….” he murmured. ” Like old times, with a new bride up to Pendorric. I wish you all the best of luck, m’dear.” When we were out of earshot I said: ” Mrs. Penhalligan told me he was in the hall at the time of your mother’s accident.”

“She told you that, did she?” He was frowning.

“How they do go on about things that are past and over.” He glanced at me, and, perhaps because I looked surprised at his mild annoyance, he went on; “I suppose so little happens in their lives that they remember every little thing that’s out of the ordinary routine.”

” I should certainly hope someone’s untimely death would be very much out of routine.”

He laughed and put his arm through mine.

“Remember that, when you feel tempted to go scrambling over dangerous paths,” he said. Then we came to the Darks’ house and the Reverend Peter invited us in; he was so eager to show us pictures he had taken of the Helston Furry Dancers the preceding May.

That afternoon I went to the quadrangle—not to sit, for, in spite of the warm sun of the morning, the seats had not yet dried out after the rain. Hyson followed me there and gravely walked round at my side. The hydrangeas looked fresher than ever and their colours more brilliant.

Hyson said suddenly: ” Did you feel frightened when Uncle Roe rescued you on the cliff path?”

” No. It didn’t occur to me that there was any danger until he pointed it out,” ” You probably would have got through all right. It was just that there might have been an accident.”

” It was a good thing I was stopped from going on, then, wasn’t it?”

Hyson nodded. ” It was meant,” she said, in a small hollow voice. I looked at her sharply.

” Perhaps,” she went on, ” it was just a warning. Perhaps …” She was staring at one of the windows on the east side as she had before.

I looked up; there was no one there. She saw my glance and smiled faintly.

“Goodbye,” she said, and went into the house through the north door.

I felt irritated. What was the child trying to imply? I had an idea that she wanted to make an impression on me. What was she suggesting?

That certain matters which were obscure to ordinary people were revealed to her? Really it was rather silly of her. But she was only a child. I must remember that; and it was rather sad if she were jealous of her sister. Then quite suddenly I heard the voice, and for a moment

I

had no idea from where it was coming. It floated down to me, a strange voice singing slightly out of tune. I heard the words distinctly. ” He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone;

At his head a grass-green turf, At his feet a stone. ” I looked up at the windows on the east side. Several of them were open.

Then I went resolutely through the east door and up the stairs to the gallery.

” Hyson,” I called. ” Are you there. Hyson?” There was no answer; and I realised how very cool it seemed in the house after coming in from the sunshine. I was angry, telling myself that someone was trying to tease me. I was more angry than I should have been; and there, in that silent part of the house, I understood that I was so angry because I was beginning to be a little frightened.

I had begun to think that someone was amusing himself—or herself—at my expense.

I had heard the playing of a violin; I had heard the singing. Why should I be the one singled out to hear these things? I was sure it was because of the legend and because I was the new Bride. Somebody in this house was trying to make me nervous.

I wondered why. Had my practical attitude, my determination not to be affected by stories of ghosts and hauntings, irritated someone? Was my scepticism a challenge? That seemed the most likely. Someone who believed in the ghost of Pendorric was determined to make me change my tune.

I wondered to whom I could talk about this subject which was beginning to take up too much of my thoughts.

BE I mentioned it to Roe, he would laugh and tell me I was coming under the spell of Pendorric as all the Brides did. Morwenna was always friendly, but somehow remote; as for Charles, I saw less of him than of anyone in the household and I couldn’t imagine myself chatting cosily with him. The twins? Impossible. Lowella was too much of a scatterbrain, and I could never be sure what Hyson was thinking. Indeed, if someone was trying to scare me I rather suspected it might, be Hyson, for after all, there was an element of childishness in the method.

I had never liked Rachel Bective and it occurred to me that she might have sensed my dislike, returned it, and was trying to make me uncomfortable in my new home.

There seemed only one person in whom I could confide and that was Deborah. She was more affectionate than Morwenna, more inclined to share confidences; and I felt that, being a Devonshire woman, she was’ practical and looked on superstition much as I myself did. There was an opportunity to talk to her when I went to her room to look at her albums, and we sat in the window-seat of her sitting-room with the books across our knees while she explained the pictures to me.

They had been arranged with care, in chronological order, with a caption beneath each ; and most of the early ones were of Barbarina and her husband. There were several of Barbarina and Deborah herself, and I couldn’t distinguish which was which.

” That’s because we’re in repose,” explained Deborah. ” She was much more animated than I; she had all the charm. But you don’t see that in a snapshot.”

There were many of Roe and Morwenna; and I found it absorbingly interesting to study his little face and discover there a hint of traits which were his today.

Then I turned a page and there were no more pictures.

” That last one was taken a week before Barbarina died,” Deborah told me. ” After that I didn’t use this book. This was what I thought of as Barbarina’s Book. It couldn’t go on after she had gone.” She picked up another album and opened it. I looked at pictures of an older Roe and Morwenna. ” After a while,” went on Deborah, ” life started to go on in a new pattern, and I took my pictures again.”

I turned a page and stopped, for I was looking at what I thought was a group consisting of Roe, Morwenna and Barbarina.

” This one doesn’t belong in this book.”

Deborah smiled. ” Oh yes it does. That isn’t Barbarina. She died sai months before that was taken.”

” So it’s you. But you look so exactly like her.”

” Yes … when she was no longer there to be compared with me, people thought I was more like her than I had been before. But that was because she wasn’t there, of course.” She turned the page as though she couldn’t bear to look at it. ” Oh, and here’s Morwenna and Charles. He’s very young there. He came to Pendorric when he was eighteen or so. Petroc’s idea was to train him so that he could take over, and mat was what he did. See how Morwenna gazes up at him. He was a god to her.” She laughed. ” It was rather amusing to see the effect he had on her. Every sentence she uttered began with Charles says …” or Charles does . ” She adored him from the moment he came to Pendorric, and she’s gone on doing so ever since.”

” They’re very happy, aren’t they?”

” Sometimes I used to think that there was too much devotion there. I remember one occasion when he went down to market and was involved in a smash-up. It was only a minor affair, and he was in hospital for less than a week, but Morwenna was … stricken. And I thought then:

“You’re not living a life of your own, my dear. You’re living Charles’s life. That’s well enough if Charles goes on living and loving you. But what if he doesn’t?” I think she’d die of a. broken heart. “

” Charles seems quite devoted to her.”

” Charles would always ‘be a faithful husband, but there are other things in his life than his marriage. He’s devoted to the Church, you know. Peter Dark often says he doesn’t know what he’d do without him.

Charles’s father was a parson, and he was very strictly brought up.

He’s deeply religious. In fact I wonder he didn’t take holy orders. I think cultivating the land is a sort of religion with him. As a matter of fact he has moulded Morwenna to his ways. There was a time when she was as ready for mischief as her brother. I’ve never known her go against Charles in any way . except perhaps one thing. ” I waited expectantly and Deborah hesitated as though wondering whether to go on.

” I meant… her friendship with Rachel Bective.”