Authors: 1906- Philippa Carr
"Oh, well," said Daisy, "Mistress Stirling did ask me to have a peep for her."
"Has she good fortune in store?"
"Couldn't be better," said Daisy. "A rosy future . . . with love and money. She's going for a journey."
"Oh?" I said. "Are you going to leave us, Jessie?"
"Not while I'm needed," said Jessie sententiously.
"No, it's for the future," put in Daisy. "She's going to meet a rich stranger and she's going to find peace and happiness in this new friendship."
"It sounds very interesting," I said turning away.
Jessie surprised me. When I had first met her I thought her a hard-headed, scheming woman. She was probably all this, but in addition she was religious and very superstitious as well. She had been really shaken when Dickon had told his story of the man in the well. And now Daisy's promised good fortune had made her very happy.
How unwise it was to make snap judgments about people's characters. The only thing one could be certain of was that there were many more facets to their natures than to a well-cut diamond and because one understood their reactions to one situation it was no use thinking one really knew them.
It was dusk. I was about to go for my visit to Lord Evers-leigh when I paused. There was a terrible commotion in the kitchens.
Dr. Cabel looked at Jessie, who was standing still, listening. Then one of the maids came running up.
"It's May," she said. "She's seen something."
"Seen what?" asked Jessie.
"We can't get a word of sense out of her. She's having hysterics at the kitchen table."
Jessie looked at the doctor and he said: "I'd better see her."
We went down through the screens to the kitchen. May, one of the housemaids, was sitting back in a chair staring ahead of her. The cook had a glass of brandy in her hand and was trying to force May to drink it.
"Now what is this?" said Dr. Cabel taking the brandy which he put on the table.
"I see a ghost, sir," said May, her teeth chattering.
"What is this nonsense?" The doctor spoke sharply.
"I see it, sir. Clear as I see you. He was standing there at the top of the stairs. I looked at him and he faded into nothing."
"Now, now, May, tell us exactly what happened. It must have been one of the other servants you saw."
"In his lordship's hat and cloak."
"His lordship's!"
"Oh yes, they was his all right. I've seen him before . . . you know . . . before he was took so ill."
"And he disappeared?"
"Well, that's what ghosts do, sir."
"It's a bad sign," said Daisy Button. "It's death in the house. I felt it a long time. I reckon it's his lordship. His spirit is already gone . . . and in its early form as yet . . . outside looking on. That's how it goes. Mark my words, we shan't have the dear gentleman with us much longer."
"Stop that nonsense," said Dr. Cabel. "What May saw was one of the servants ... or she imagined she saw something. You're all right, May. Now I'm going to give you something to drink and you're to go to bed."
"I'd be frightened, sir. I don't want to see that again."
"You saw nothing. It was a figment of your imagination." He bent over. "Good heavens, have you been drinking?"
"I give her a glass of my sloe gin," said Daisy Button. "But then we all had some."
"It may well be that your sloe gin is more potent than you think, Mistress Button."
"Well, you might have something there."
The doctor smiled. "Distribute it in smaller portions in future, will you?"
"Well, my sloe's always been took in the same quantities before, sir."
"Each year's brew won't be exactly the same, will it?"
"That could be true, sir. You know what sloes is."
"Shall we get May to her room and let the doctor give her something to make her sleep," I said.
"Come along, May," said Jessie.
They went up to the maid's room.
I noticed how subdued Jessie was. She was really frightened and behaving rather unlike the Jessie I had come to expect.
Dickon was very interested when he heard of May's experience. He was on some sort of acquaintanceship with several of the maids. I had seen his eyes rest speculatively on several of them. I imagined that he waylaid them in dark places and indulged in certain familiarities. I had seen the manner in which some of them looked at him. Dickon was the sort of person who only had to be in a place to change the nature of it.
He held forth a long time at dinner over May's adventure.
"These girls are very superstitious," he said. "I've no doubt May imagined the whole thing."
"Yes," said Jessie, "that's it. She just saw a shadow or something . . . and thought up the rest."
"She was very shaken," I pointed out.
"Of course she would be," said Dickon. "What did the poor girl see? I beg your pardon . . . what did she think she saw?"
"Some garbled story about a man in a cloak," said Dr. Cabel.
"And a hat."
"Evidently a visitor since he was hatted," said Dickon.
"She said he was like Lord Eversleigh," I said.
"Probably she saw him in a hat and cloak once," put in the doctor.
"The cook adds fuel to the flames," I remarked. "She says that the apparition was a sort of angel of death."
"Interesting," said Dickon. "Come to announce some disaster?"
"Daisy Button is full of tales—always has been," said Jessie. "Thinks she's rather clever, she does. If she wasn't such a good cook ..."
"Good cooks should be allowed their little foibles," remarked Dickon. "Do tell me more of this angel of death."
"She seems to imply," I explained, "that it's the spirit of someone who has departed taking on the guise of his earthly body."
"It's very complicated," sighed Dickon. "I didn't know that cook added supernatural knowledge to her culinary skills."
The doctor said rather impatiently: "It's all a lot of women's nonsense. I think we'd do well to forget it."
"You are certainly right, doctor," agreed Dickon. "But is it not strange how interested we all are in unnatural phenomena, even those of us who should know better."
"The girl has come to her senses. I gave her a draught and a good night's sleep will do the rest. Now I hope we shall have no more of this nonsense."
His hope was not fulfilled for that very night the ghost made another appearance.
This time it was to Jessie herself.
There was a wild scream and we all ran to see what had happened. Jessie was half fainting when I arrived on the scene. I had been outside for a breath of fresh air before retiring, for I had just had one of my brief visits to Uncle Carl.
Jessie was lying on the floor. She had fainted. With all the blood drained from her face so that the carmine stood out unnaturally she looked like a painted doll.
Dr. Cabel was kneeling beside her. "Give her air," he was crying, for several of the servants were crowding round.
"What has happened?" I asked.
"Mistress Stirling has fainted," the doctor announced. "She'll be all right. It's nothing much. The heat, I expect."
It was not really very hot. It never was in the house behind those thick stone walls even at the height of summer.
Jessie was already opening her eyes. She screamed: "Where is he? I saw him."
"All is well," said Dr. Cabel. "You're all right. You were overcome by the heat."
"I saw ... he was on the stairs. . . . Just as he used to look . . . before . . . before . . ."
"I think," said Dr. Cabel, "we'll get her to her bed. She needs to lie down." He signed to one of the men servants and the man with the doctor got Jessie to her feet.
"Now," said Dr. Cabel soothingly, "we'll get you to bed. I
will give you something to drink ... it will help you to sleep."
"It was terrible," murmured Jessie.
"Never mind now," said the doctor.
Dickon had appeared at the top of the stairs. He ran down. "What's wrong?"
"Jessie has fainted."
"Good heavens. Is she ill or something . . . ?"
Dr. Cabel silenced him with a look. Dickon's eyes were round with wonder.
Then Dickon gently pushed the man servant to one side and himself took Jessie's arm.
"Yes, to bed," he said, "that's the best place."
"I saw him. . . ." Jessie was murmuring. "With my own eyes I saw him. ... It was him ... I could swear it."
"You've been working too hard," said the doctor.
"I never fainted before," said Jessie.
"Come along ... to your room."
I followed the procession. In her room I noticed the crucifix hanging on the wall. A further sign of her religion. She lay on the bed. Her eyes were wide and frightened, though some color had returned to her face. It was clear that Jessie had had a very bad shock.
"Now," said Dr. Cabel, "there's nothing to do but rest, and when you've drunk what I shall bring you, you will sleep."
"I don't want to be alone."
"I'll stay with you," I said, "till the doctor comes back."
Dickon remained in the room too. He had seated himself by Jessie's bed and watched her intently.
"I saw it so clear," she said. "It was him, all right. . . . Him like he used to be."
"I can't think what you saw," I said, "but the light does play funny tricks."
"There was hardly any light in the hall."
"That's why you thought you saw this . . . apparition. In daylight you would have seen there was nothing there."
"I saw him. . . . What's he doing? Why? Why?"
Dickon leaned toward the bed. He said: "Cook believes that somebody's going to die and he's come to warn us."
"It's him. . . . It's Lordy," she cried.
I said: "He's very ill. I think Dr. Cabel is expecting him to die at any time."
"The blacksmith said that it was someone who wanted a burial," Jessie started to shiver.
"I wish the doctor would hurry with the sleeping draught or whatever it is," I said.
Dickon took Jessie's hand and held it firmly. "You mustn't get so agitated. You won't be able to look after everything there is to do, you know. Why you might be ill. You've got to take care of yourself, Jessie."
"Yes," she said smiling at him.
"Where would all this be . . . without you, Jessie?"
She nodded.
"So here is the doctor with his sleeping potion. Take it, Jessie, and rest. You'll feel better in the morning. You'll know how to cope with all this."
She was silent. It seemed that Dickon had chosen the right words to comfort her.
She gulped down the liquid. She didn't want me to leave her until she was asleep.
She had been very shaken and I realized that she was afraid to be alone in case the apparition returned.
Jessie quickly recovered from her fright and was her old self in a day or so. I was now wanting to go home. I found the house oppressive, and my visits to Uncle Carl seemed to me unnecessary. I made no progress with him and I could not believe my presence was very important to him.
I missed Lottie and Jean-Louis and was longing for the peace and normality of Clavering.
I had passed Enderby once or twice hoping for a glimpse of the Forsters, but I assumed they were still away and felt I could not call. Dr. Forster would, I supposed, not come there since his brother and sister-in-law were away; yet I continued to walk that way, drawn by memories.
Once I walked past Grasslands and saw Dickon's horse tethered there. I hoped he was not going to cause any trouble to that very nice Andrew Mather. I should have liked to visit him again, but that of course would entail meeting Evalina and I had no great desire for that.
Often I would find Dickon's eyes on me—maliciously, I thought. It occurred to me that he was involved in some plan and that it concerned me. If I caught his eyes he would smile at me in a rather amused, mischievous way but sometimes I
thought I caught a glint of something there which was by no means lighthearted and gave me a twinge of alarm.
I had never liked him; I had never trusted him; and I knew he was quite unscrupulous.
I wondered what he was planning; what he talked of with Evalina. I was sure they discussed me together.
I thought of speaking to Dr. Cabel and telling him that I was thinking of returning home. Why not? I had been to Rosen, Stead and Rosen; they seemed perfectly satisfied with the state of affairs. There was the matter of the valuable statue. Could it be that Jessie was taking goods from the house as a sort of bulwark against the time when she would have to leave? I thought that was a possibility. But of course it was true that Uncle Carl had been very generous to her. The first time I had seen her she had been wearing quite a large amount of jewelry—presumably gifts from him, as she had worn them in his presence.
Perhaps, I thought, we should make an inventory of what was in the house. I might have asked Rosen that. But that would be tantamount to accusing Jessie. She might be affronted and leave; and if my uncle really was aware of what was going on that could upset him very much.
I must think clearly. But I was determined to make up my mind to go soon.
My steps had again led me to Enderby. I was still hoping that one of the Forsters would appear. The house looked silent. I turned away to the haunted patch. It looked quite normal in the light of day. I wondered someone didn't mend the palings or have them taken away.
Absentmindedly I stepped over and walked on the grass. My mind went back to that evening at dusk when I stood on this spot and suddenly Gerard had arisen from the ground, as it were ... as though he had stepped out of ... a grave.
I shook myself. I had given up that nonsense of pretending that he was some long-dead gallant and that I had assumed a personality not my own. No ... I had been revealed to myself. I had loved Gerard. Everything that had happened had been my desire. He had shown me my real self.
I could hear his voice saying: "I was looking for my fob. ..."
And then suddenly I saw the glitter as the sunlight caught something lying there.
I immediately thought: It's Gerard's fob. And I ran forward.
But it was not a fob. What I was looking at was a crucifix which had been stuck into the earth.