Fingersmith

coming along behind. Then he looked at me again, and his eyes grew wide.

And it was that, that saved me. His were the first two eyes, in all the time that had passed since I left Mrs Cream's, that had looked at me and seen, not Maud, but Sue.

They gave me back my past. They gave me my future, too— for in the second of standing in the doorway, meeting his gaze, seeing it slip from me and then come back baffled, my own confusion began to leave me and I formed a plan. I formed it whole, complete in every part.

It was desperate.

'Charles!' I said. I was not used to speaking, and it came out like a croak. 'Charles, you hardly know me. I think— I think I must be very changed. But oh, how good of you to come and make a visit to your old mistress!'

And I went to him and caught hold of his hand, not taking my eyes away from his; and then I pulled him to me and I whispered, almost weeping, in his ear:

'Say I'm her, or I'm done for! I'll give you anything at all! Say I'm her! Oh, please say I'm her!'

I kept hold of his hand, and wrung it. He stepped back. He had been wearing a cap, that had left a scarlet line across his brow. Now his face grew scarlet all over. He opened his mouth. He said,

'Miss, I— Miss— '

Of course, he called me that, at Briar. Thank God he did! Nurse Spiller heard him and said, in a sort of nasty satisfaction, 'Well, ain't it marvellous how quick a lady's head will clear, when she sees a dear face from home? Shan't Dr Christie be pleased?'

I turned and caught her eye. She looked sour. She said, 'Will you keep your young man standing? That have come all this way? That's right, you sit. Not too close, though, young sir, if I was you. We can't say when they won't fly off and start clawing; even the meek ones. That's better. Now, I'll keep over here, by the door, and if she starts kicking up, you sing out— all right?'

We had sat, in two hard chairs, close to the window. Charles still looked bewildered; now he also began to wink and look afraid. Nurse Spiller stood in the open doorway.

It was cooler there. She folded her arms and watched us; but she also, now and then, turned her head into the hall, to nod and murmur to the nurses beyond.

I still held Charles's hand in both of mine. I could not give it up. I leaned towards him, trembling, and spoke in a whisper. I said,

'Charles, I— Charles, I never was so glad to see anyone, anyone in all my life! You have— You have to help me.'

He swallowed. He said, in the same low voice,

'You are Miss Smith?'

'Hush! Hush! I am. Oh, I am!' My eyes began to water. 'But you mustn't say it here.

You must say— ' I glanced at Nurse Spiller, then spoke more quietly still. 'You must say I'm Miss Lilly. Don't

ask me why.'

What was I thinking of? Well, the fact was I was thinking of the lady who had spoken like a snake, and the two old ladies that had died. I was thinking of what Dr Christie had said, about my malady having taken a different turn, but being sure, in time, to 287

turn back. I was thinking that if he heard Charles say that I was Sue not Maud, he might find a way to keep me closer— perhaps bind me, pad me, plunge me, plunge Charles too.— In other words, terror had turned my brain. But I also had that plan. It was growing clearer by the second.

'Don't ask me why,' I said again. 'But, oh, what a trick has been played on me! They have made out I'm mad, Charles.'

He looked about him. 'This house is a house for mad people?' he said. 'I supposed it a great hotel. I supposed I should find Miss Lilly here. And— and Mr Rivers.'

'Mr Rivers,' I said. 'Oh! Oh! That devil! He has swindled me, Charles, and gone to London with money that was to be mine. Him and Maud Lilly! Oh! What a pair! They have left me here, to die— !'

My voice had risen, I could not help it: someone else— someone really mad— might have been speaking out of my mouth. I squeezed Charles's fingers, to keep from talking louder. I squeezed them, almost out of their joints. And I glanced fearfully towards Nurse Spiller at the door. Her head was turned. She had her back to the doorpost and was laughing with the nurses and the men. I looked back at Charles, meaning to speak again. But his face had changed, and stopped me. His cheek had turned from flaming scarlet, to white. He said, in a whisper,

'Mr Rivers, gone to London?'

'To London,' I said, 'or to heaven knows where. To hell, I shouldn't wonder!'

He swallowed. He twitched. Then he tore his fingers from mine and covered his face with his hands.

'Oh! Oh!' he said, in a shaking voice— just as I had. 'Oh, then I'm ruined!'

And to my very great astonishment, he began to cry.

His story came leaking out, then, along with his tears. It turned out that— just as I had guessed, months before— a life spent sharpening knives at Briar seemed a life not worth having, once Gentleman had gone. Charles had felt it so hard, he had begun to mope. He had moped so long, Mr Way the steward had taken a whip to him.

'He said he would whip me raw,' he said; 'and he did. Lord, how he made me shriek!

But that whipping was nothing— I should say, a hundred whippings would be nothing!— compared to the smarting, miss, of my disappointed heart.'

He said that, in a way that made me think he had practised it; then he held himself stiff, as if he imagined I would hit him, or laugh, and was ready to suffer any blow.

But what I said— bitterly— was, 'I believe you. Mr Rivers makes hearts do that.'

I was thinking of Maud's. Charles seemed not to notice. 'He does!' he said. 'What a gentleman! Oh, but ain't he?'

His face grew shiny. He wiped his nose. Then he started crying again. Nurse Spiller looked over and curled her lip. But that was all she did. Perhaps people cried a lot, when they came to see their lady relatives, at Dr Christie's.

When she had looked into the hall again, I turned back to Charles. Seeing him so miserable made me calmer in my own head. I let him shake a little longer and, as he did it, studied him closer. I saw, what I had not seen at first— that his neck was dirty, and his hair was strange— here pale and fluffy as feathers, here dark and stiff where he had wet it to make it lie smooth. There was a twig caught up in the wool of the 288

sleeve of his jacket. His trousers were marked with dust.

He wiped his eyes and saw me looking, and blushed harder than ever. I said quietly,

'Be a good boy now, and tell me the truth. You've run off, haven't you, from Briar?'

He bit his lip, then nodded. I said, 'And all for Mr Rivers's sake?' He nodded again.

Then he drew in a shuddering breath.

'Mr Rivers used to say to me, miss,' he said, 'that he would take me on to man for him, if only he'd the money for a proper man's wages. I thought, I would rather work for him for no wages at all, than stay at Briar. But how was I to find him out, in London?

Then came all that stir, with Miss Lilly taking off. The house've been on its head since then. We did suppose her flown after him, but np-one was quite sure. They are calling it a scandal. Half the girls have gone. Mrs Cakebread've gone, to another man's kitchen! Now Margaret cooks. Mr Lilly ain't in his right mind. Mr Way has to feed him his dinners off a spoon!'

'Mrs Cakebread,' I said, frowning. 'Mr Way.' The names were like so many lights: each time one was lit, another part of my brain grew brighter. 'Margaret. Mr Lilly.'

And then: 'Off a spoon! And all— And all from Maud's running off with Mr Rivers?'

'I don't know, miss.' He shook his head. 'They say it took him a week to feel it. For he was calm at first; then he found some harm had been done to some of his books— or, something like that. Then he fell in a fit on his library floor. Now he can't hold a pen or anything, and forgets his words. Mr Way made me push him about, in a great wheeled chair; but, I could hardly go ten yards— I could hardly do anything!— for breaking out crying. In the end I got sent to my aunty's, to look at her black-faced pigs.