Miss Silver did not hurry. She said, “Oh, thank you,” and then, “Will you just show me-” And when they were both in the study and she found that is was empty, she said in the voice which was so exactly that of a retired governess, “The call will not keep me for more than three minutes. There is something I want to ask you about. I wonder if you would be so kind as to go to my room and wait for me there.”
The call took its allotted three minutes and no more. Miss Silver’s remarks were few and cryptic. She said, “Speaking,” and then, “You have asked them all?” And at the end, “Yes, it is what I expected. Thank you. Goodbye.” After which she hung up the receiver and went upstairs again.
She found Gladys standing by the window, a pretty, serious-looking girl with a bright color and rather a nervous manner. She turned round now, fingering her apron.
“It’s Ivy does these upstairs rooms.”
Miss Silver smiled agreeably.
“And very nicely, I am sure. But it was you that I wanted to speak to. I have Miss Treherne’s permission to ask you one or two questions. The fact is, someone played a stupid trick on her last night-a very stupid, startling trick-and I am wondering whether you can help us to find out who it was.”
“Me, miss?”
“Yes, Gladys. Just answer me quite truthfully, and no one will blame you if you did slip out with Mr. Frith’s letter.”
The bright color became a number of shades brighter.
“Oh, miss!”
Miss Silver nodded gently.
“You did, didn’t you? Frith rang the study bell at half past five and gave you a letter for the post in case anyone was going out, and I expect you thought, ‘Now why shouldn’t I go out?’ That was it, was it not?”
“There wasn’t any harm-not when he asked me.”
“And I daresay you have a friend who comes up on the chance of your being able to slip out.”
The color faded.
“I don’t know who’s been telling tales. I’m sure I’ve done no harm.”
“I am sure you have not. You see, I want you to help me. Miss Treherne would like to know who played this trick on her, and I thought if you were out you might have noticed if there was anyone about. What time was it when you went out?”
“It was half past five when Mr. Frith rang. I just went up for my coat and slipped out through the garage so as no one would see me. Not that there was any harm, but some of them-well, they tease me about Tom.”
“How long were you out?”
“The garage clock struck six as I come in.”
“Did you see anyone-meet anyone?”
“I went down to the post-box-it’s just outside the gate-and, well, Tom happened to be there, and we were talking for a bit, and then he said he was pushed for time and couldn’t come up to the house with me, so he went off on his motor-bike. He works in a garage in Ledlington.”
“Now, Gladys, where does the cliff path come in? Because that’s what I want to know about.”
“Well, the real path comes in just a bit down the road from the gate, but anyone that was coming to the house, they wouldn’t come down on to the road at all. They’d take the garden gate up by the garage and come in that way right off the cliff.”
Miss Silver said, “I see-” And then, “You haven’t told me whether you saw anyone. Did you?”
Glayds looked down and fidgeted with her apron.
“It was a lot too dark to see anyone.”
“But you met someone?”
“Not to say met.”
Miss Silver looked at her sharply.
“You did not see anyone, and you did not meet anyone. But there was someone all the same.”
“Only Miss Caroline.”
“What was she doing?”
“Coming in off the cliff.”
“Did you speak to her?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then how do you know it was Miss Caroline?”
Gladys stood looking down at the hands that were twisting her apron.
“Come now, it was dark-you couldn’t tell one person from another. You couldn’t be sure that it was Miss Caroline. ”
Gladys’s head came up. Her eyes were wet and angry.
“Well then, I could! It was Miss Caroline all right, because I could hear her talking.”
“Talking? To whom?”
“To herself. There wasn’t no one else-only Miss Caroline. And I wouldn’t have told anyone, but she was crying and carrying on like you do when something’s upset you, and seeing I heard her as plain as what I hear you-well, it was Miss Caroline all right. But it wouldn’t be her playing any practical jokes, because for one thing she was too upset, and for another everyone knows what a lot she thinks of Miss Treherne.”
“Yes, yes,” said Miss Silver. “And now will you tell me what Miss Caroline was saying?”
Gladys stared.
“It wasn’t anything to make sense. She was all upset.”
“Well, I would like you to tell me exactly what you heard. ”
Gladys sniffed.
“When anyone’s upset like that they don’t think what they’re saying-it don’t mean anything. You could tell she didn’t hardly know what she was saying.”
“Miss Caroline may have had a fright as well as Miss Treherne. You see, Gladys, we want to get to the bottom of this. Will you tell me just what Miss Caroline said.”
Gladys sniffed again.
“She was crying something shocking. Just the other side of the garden gate she was, and she come through it a little way and stood there crying and talking to herself. And I stood still where I was because of not letting her know I was there, and the first thing I heard her say was, ‘I can’t-I can’t!’ and she was crying fit to break her heart. So then she said, ‘I can’t do it!’ and she stood a bit and went back to the gate, and she said, ‘She’s always been so good to us.’ And she said, ‘I can’t!’ and she went out through the gate again, and I come in by the garage.”
Miss Silver had a puzzled look on her face.
“And it was six o’clock when you came in?”
“No-it wasn’t any more than ten minutes to, or maybe a quarter.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“But you said the garage clock was striking six as you came in.”
“Oh, yes, it was. But it strikes fast that clock does. Barlow, he likes it that way. He says it’s as good as an alarm.”
“So you had only been out a quarter of an hour?”
“Yes, miss. And I went up to my room and did some mending till I heard the car come back.”
“Thank you, Gladys,” said Miss Silver. She crossed to the door and opened it. “I think Miss Treherne would rather you did not speak about this.”
Gladys gave a final sniff.
“I’m not one to talk,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-three
I don’t know what girls are coming to,” said Mabel Wadlow in her complaining voice. “You may think yourself very lucky not to have any. What with feeling they’re a failure if they don’t marry, and not knowing who they’ll take it into their heads to marry if they do marry, and out all night at dances, and off for the week-end without so much as telling you where they’re going-well, it isn’t any wonder that my health is such a constant anxiety to Ernest.”
Mrs. Wadlow was reclining upon a couch in the drawing-room. Miss Maud Silver sat in a small armless chair at a convenient angle for conversation and knitted. The expression upon her face was one of almost reverential attention. Seldom if ever had Mabel encountered a more congenial companion. She felt that, for once, here was someone who was really interested in the state of her digestion, the number of hours that she had slept or had not slept the night before, the condition of her heart and pulse, her anxieties about Maurice, and, last but not least, the very troublesome and inconsiderate way that Cherry was behaving.
“I’m sure when I was a girl I would never have dreamt of making myself conspicuous with a man who was engaged to another girl, but Cherry doesn’t seem to care. And she is supposed to be going to be a bridesmaid. Mildred Ross asked her, but of course that was before she had made herself so conspicuous. And now I wonder if the marriage will ever really take place, because of course he can’t be in love with Mildred, and the worst of it is that Cherry isn’t a bit in love with him-she says so herself. Girls are so frank now, aren’t they? They will say anything, even to a total stranger. And Cherry says quite openly that she doesn’t care for Bob-it’s just the money. He is so fearfully rich, and Cherry says she must have money and she doesn’t care how she gets it. Now what would you have said if you had heard a girl talk like that when you were a girl, Miss Silver?”