As he disappeared, I followed – to find the truth.
Though few, I think, would have marked it, the fireplace was wider than its mouth, and within and behind the jamb a very narrow opening gave to a flight of steps.
The opening was so surprising and so well hid that out of ten chimney-sweeps I do not believe that one would have found it out, for, the fireplace being set in a corner and the steps, which ran down, being built in the wall of the room, the vomitory was not on the left of the cage but actually side by side with the fireplace’s mouth.
Such was the entrance to a system which truly deserved that name.
Twelve steps led down to a cellar, some twenty feet square, from which rose three winding stairways, sunk in the depths of the walls. Each stairway served four passages, one upon every floor. These corridors were most narrow and, since they were in the walls, they were not winding, but straight: and when one turned, it turned with the wall, at right-angles, to right or left. The doors in the passages were legion, and though I cannot be sure, I believe that the system gave access to every room in the house.
I am told that similar systems are not unknown and that castles, still standing, have passages running in their walls: but, as I have said, Jezreel had been raised to its being by more than one hand, and I find it strange that such as enlarged the castle from time to time should have been at such pains not only to preserve but to extend a feature which smacked so strongly of darker days.
Every door was numbered, but by no means all were bolted, although the great bolts were there: instead, they were held fast shut by means of great counterweights, the cords of which passed overhead, ran through staples and hung down beside the wall. It was clear that doors so fitted could be opened without a sound. Of such was the door which gave to ‘the corner suite’…
This I was thankful to enter, Candle or no, for I could not be blind to the fact that so long as we moved in the system, we moved in the worst of traps. Any instant the beam of a torch might leap from some direction which had been black and empty a second before: the place was rife with ambush, and had we been argus-eyed, it would have made no difference because we could not escape.
The suite was unoccupied.
The lovely bed was covered and the windows were shut. Candle lay somewhere else.
I sat down upon the edge of a table and wiped the sweat from my face: but before this toilet was over, Mansel had the paper he wanted and was standing with a hand on the mirror, ready to leave.
Six minutes later we re-entered the stable-yard…
As we made our way back through the meadows –
‘It wasn’t so bad coming back, was it?’ said Mansel quietly.
‘No,’ said I, ‘frankly, it wasn’t. And I don’t quite know what I’m afraid of. The damned woman’s flesh and blood.’
‘It’s not fear,’ said Mansel: ‘it’s repugnance. The atmosphere she has created is repugnant to you and me. More than repugnant – monstrous. And monstrous things try the nerves. But I’m glad you came tonight. Strip a monster of mystery, and she ought to lose half her bulk.’
‘She has, I think,’ I said slowly. ‘The illusion dies if you’re taken behind the scenes.’
Mansel had gained his end. From that time on I had no dread of Jezreel. For the first time since I had known her, my feeling for Vanity Fair was tinged with contempt.
The dawn came up as we drove the way we had come, and we berthed the car by Carlos exactly at five o’clock.
‘I’ve a plan in my head,’ said Mansel. ‘But as it entails immediate action, I cannot spare the time to lay it before you now. Carson and I are going back to the park, and I want you and Bell to leave at once for Bayonne. From there you will wire to my sister. Then you will go on to Burgos – that’s a hundred and eighty-five miles. At Burgos you’ll write a postcard and post it to Vanity Fair and you’ll buy a pair of boots and send them off to Below. You will also buy a guide to Burgos and visit the cathedral. Then you will return to Bayonne. The roads are good, and you ought to be back at Bayonne by nine o’clock. There you will purchase food for us all for two days and pick up my sister’s reply to the wire you sent. Then you will come back here.
‘It’s going to be a very hard day. You must take it in turns to drive. But once you’re back you shall sleep as long as you please.’ His chin went on to his shoulder. ‘Give me my writing things, Carson.’
Carson gave him a wallet which was kept in the back of the car, and he wrote out the telegram which I was to send from Bayonne.
Two minutes later he and Carson were climbing the wayside bank, Bell was sitting beside me, and the Rolls was again under way.
By the roads we used, from Carlos to Burgos and back was nearly six hundred miles.
Bayonne – San Sebastian – Burgos…
At Burgos I wasted no time. Half-an-hour I gave to luncheon, half-an-hour to the great cathedral, half-an-hour to the city itself. By a quarter past three our flying visit was over and we were hastening back.
No adventure befell us, but I never drove so far and so fast to post a picture-postcard and purchase a pair of boots. Still, alibis cannot be made except in the sweat of the brow.
Mansel’s estimate was sound. We reached Bayonne once more at twenty minutes to nine that Saturday night. There I sent Bell off to buy the food we required, whilst I drove to the Post Office to claim the reply to my wire. This was awaiting me.
Will arrive Bordeaux Monday 4.50 a.m. Jill.
I made my way to the café at which I had arranged to meet Bell. As I sat there, waiting, a man came by, selling papers – among them, the
Daily Mail
. I called him and bought a copy. Idly I glanced at the news. Then a sudden paragraph brought my wits up with a jerk.
Mr Elvin Candle, the well-known RA, who was taken ill in Paris on Thursday on his way to the South of France, was successfully operated on for appendicitis yesterday morning. Mrs Candle reached Paris by air in the afternoon and drove at once to the nursing-home. She later stated that her husband was going on very well.
More than twelve hours had gone by.
I opened my eyes, to stare at the clear blue heaven which I had come to expect. Then I propped myself on an elbow and sought to pick up the reins of understanding which heaviness more than fatigue had made me lay down.
I remembered meeting Mansel by Carlos at dead of night: Bell had been fast asleep in the seat by my side, and we had left him sleeping, with Carson standing, smiling, by the side of the Rolls. The rest was a very nightmare. With Mansel’s arms beneath mine, I had stumbled and staggered an endless way that I knew – up to and across the circus, through the cleft, over the dewy meadows and up to the belvedere. And there I had fallen down, more dead than alive… I suppose that I could have gone further: but nothing that I can think of would have got me another yard. My desire to sleep was raging: there was nothing else in my world.
Mansel strolled out of the bushes and up to my side.
‘Eleven o’clock,’ he said, smiling. ‘And how do you feel?’
‘Not too bad,’ said I. ‘Did I show you that bit about Candle?’
‘Indeed you did,’ said Mansel. ‘You showed it to me by Carlos. And on the way here you stopped five times and asked if you’d shown me “that bit about Candle in the paper I bought at Bayonne”.’
‘It was on my mind,’ said I, laughing.
‘You went to sleep walking,’ said Mansel. ‘And every time you woke up, you asked me again. You’re a faithful officer, William. That’s why I drive you so hard.’
‘And the wire?’
‘Yes, you gave me that. Everything in the garden is lovely: and, except for receiving a lady, you’ll have nothing whatever to do for thirty-six hours. And now you get up and breakfast: and then we’ll talk.’
I shaved and bathed and ate. Then we sat by the lip of the dell, and Mansel unfolded his plan.
‘Before I begin,’ he said, ‘I want to make two points clear.
‘One is that my job – and yours – is to take an active interest in Vanity Fair. That we’re doing the right thing by Jenny, I have no doubt. But Jenny is really a side-show. It’s like exploring a river. Thanks almost entirely to you, we have traced one tributary to its source: and now we must return to the stream. Virginia’s engagement to de Rachel is a riddle which must be solved.
‘The second point is that the news of Candle’s sudden illness has altered and simplified everything beyond belief.
‘Now what is the present position?
‘Though Vanity Fair does not know it, Luis and Jean are both dead. Luis was ordered to report tomorrow, Monday, night. When Luis fails to appear, then and not till then will Vanity Fair be aware that something is wrong.
‘Now for Lafone.
‘Lafone knows more than her mistress. When Luis did not arrive, Lafone at once suspected that something was wrong. She, therefore, sent Jean to Jezreel on Friday night. She had every right to expect that he would return with a message at dawn today…
‘It seemed to me important not to disappoint Lafone. And as, owing to a recent bereavement, Jean was prevented from appearing at dawn today,
Carson has taken his place
. That’s why I wanted the notepaper.’ He put a sheet into my hand. ‘That is an accurate copy of the letter he bore. Not a facsimile, of course. I think you would have approved the original. The words were Mansel’s words: but I pride myself that the hand was the hand of Vanity Fair.’
I read the note carefully.
Lafone.
I send you Wright in place of Jean because I wish to see you and I do not wish Mademoiselle left in Jean’s charge. You will come to Jezreel on Monday night. Wright is English and wholly reliable. He knows nothing. I have told him that he will answer for Mademoiselle with his life. Tell Mademoiselle that she is to do as he says while you are away.
I am very uneasy about Luis. He should have arrived on Thursday, half-an-hour after Jean.
Mansel continued quietly.
‘Carson fetched up this morning – I saw him arrive. And two hours ago he signalled that all was extremely well. Lafone has swallowed the lie.
‘That, then, is the present position. Vanity Fair knows nothing: Lafone’s suspicions are laid. But the hour of reckoning is coming: somewhere about midnight on Monday Lafone will reach Jezreel –
and the mine will be sprung
.
‘Now if we are to continue to deal with Vanity Fair, she must be satisfied that neither you nor I were concerned in springing that mine. And it’s no child’s play, as you know, to satisfy Vanity Fair.
‘First, as to you. Your alibi’s pretty good. On Monday morning Vanity Fair will receive your postcard. This will go far to suggest that on Saturday afternoon, only twelve hours before Carson arrived with his note, you were nearly three hundred miles off, at Burgos in Spain. Well, that’s not too bad: but mine must be better still. And so it will be, for on Monday afternoon about six o’clock
I shall report for duty at the Château Jezreel
. I shall, therefore, be asleep in my quarters at the moment the mine is sprung.
‘Now this is the tale I shall tell her on my return. That when I arrived at my home, I found that my little girl was in perfect health and that those who have her in charge knew nothing whatever about the wire that was sent: that the police are now trying to find out who sent the wire: and that, realising that I had been decoyed, I turned straight round and came back as fast as I could.
‘I hope that my devotion will please her, and I’m perfectly sure that when Lafone arrives, forged letter in hand, Vanity Fair will assume that the person who wrote that letter was the person who wired to say that my daughter was ill. Between you and me, she won’t be very far out: but she won’t think it’s me… John Wright…a most dependable man.
‘So much for our alibis. Now to return to action. This evening Bell and I shall leave for Bordeaux. At four-fifty tomorrow morning my sister has to be met. I shall drive her straight to Anise and put her wise. Together we shall make the arrangements for Jenny’s reception. Then I shall leave for Jezreel. And now for you. Half-an-hour after Lafone has left for Jezreel tomorrow night, you and Carson will escort Jenny to the car. This, with Bell at the wheel, will be waiting by Carlos. You will drive direct to Anise and hand her over to Jill.
‘And there you are. Any further instructions later. Although I say it, I can’t find a hole in that plan. If you can, for God’s sake tell me. I’m anxious not to slip up.’
So far from finding fault, I was overwhelmed. Indeed, I shall always hold that only a master brain could have conceived so brilliant a piece of work. But, though I did not say so, I did not like the idea of Mansel’s return to Jezreel.
The charm of Jenny’s greeting brought the tears into my eyes.
A rustle…a parting of leaves…then a nymph danced out of the greenwood into the sweet of the dell.
‘Why,’ says she, ‘here’s William.’
She slid an arm round my neck and held her cheek close to mine: then she turned abruptly to Mansel and flung herself into his arms.
‘You make me so happy,’ she said. ‘And William, too.’
The words were the words and the way was the way of nature – of a lovely instinct, the nonesuch of paradise lost.
‘That’s why we’re here,’ said Mansel, smoothing her beautiful hair.
My voice would have been unsteady, but his was as easy and gentle as if she had been a child. In my defence I will say that, while I am not easily moved, I think that emotion would rule most people today if Eve were to step out of Eden and speak them so fair.
Something touched my hand, and I turned to see Goliath standing quietly beside me, moving his tail. Naturally enough, I encouraged such valuable goodwill.
Jenny sat down by the rill and let the sparkling water play with a delicate hand.
‘What d’you think?’ she said. ‘Granny’s sent such a nice new man instead of Jean. Lafone is so pleased. She tries not to show it, of course: but she keeps on rubbing her chin. And that always means she’s pleased. He’s very quiet, and he goes and gets the water without being told. He’s got such a funny name – Rah-eet. Goliath likes him, too: but he doesn’t like Jean.’