“The room was in darkness?”
“Yes.”
“May I ask why?”
“There was a candle in the kitchen. I spoke to Mr. Frith about the danger of leaving the well uncovered.”
“Was there a quarrel?”
“No-I should not have called it a quarrel. I had had a terrible fright.”
“Was there any quarrel with Mr. Brandon?”
“No. Mr. Brandon told Mr. Frith he was accountable for leaving the well uncovered. Mr. Frith turned away and went round the well to the door. Miss Ponsonby was just outside. I think he did not expect to see her there. He was startled, and he must have forgotten about the well. He stepped back, and before Mr. Brandon could reach him he overbalanced and fell.”
“Mr. Brandon did not touch him?”
“Oh, no.”
“Did anyone touch him?”
“No.”
Gale Brandon’s evidence, on the same lines. Then:
“What did you do after Mr. Frith fell?”
“Miss Silver rang up the police. The chauffeur and I went to try and get a rope. He must have sunk at once. We did what we could.”
“I am sure of it, Mr. Brandon. Oh, there is one thing-can you account for the log of wood which was found floating in the well?”
“I think I can. It was lying near the edge of the well. It got pushed over.”
“You noticed it?”
“Yes, I noticed it.”
Miss Silver’s evidence, very precise and composed:
“Where were you when Mr. Frith fell?”
“I was just inside the larder, sir.”
“And why were you in the larder?”
“I stepped back just inside the door when Mr. Frith came in. I wished to leave him room to pass safely round the well.”
“And from first to last no one touched Mr. Frith?”
“No, sir-no one touched him.”
“He was startled at seeing Miss Ponsonby and stepped back?”
“Yes, sir.”
They had all given their evidence, and it had all been true, only no one had spoken the key-word which would have resolved death by misadventure into something darker and more dreadful. If the coroner had his thoughts, he did not speak them-at least not in that place or at that time. The jury returned their verdict and dispersed.
The talk at the Magpie went that there was something queer about the business:
“What did he want with the girl anyway, taking her off to his place in all that fog? No good, I’ll be bound.”
“Scared to death she was, for fear what they’d ask her.”
“The crowner let her down easy.”
“ ”Funny thing, all of them rolling up like that, one after the other.”
“Well, I’d nothing against Mr. Frith myself, but they do say…”
They said a lot.
The inquest was over. The verdict stood. The nine days’ wonder would pass. Life would go on.
But there was another reckoning, here in the family. A private inquest where something more than the bare truth would have to be spoken if the life that went on was to be worth living.
Richard Treherne had come to Pewitt’s Corner to find Rachel sitting on the step with Caroline unconscious in her arms. Upon that a coming and going-men with a rope, and the rope too short-the police-the whole dreadful business of plumbing the well. He had taken Rachel and Caroline back to Whincliff Edge, and had not seen Caroline again until he saw her, a sight to wring the heart, across the crowded coroner’s court.
He saw her now on the couch in Rachel’s sitting-room, where this second, intimate inquest was to take place. He stood inside the door and, seeing Caroline, saw no one else. A rage against Cosmo took him. She looked so drained of everything. But her eyes met his, and they were clear. He thought of the sky after rain, clear above the sea-only Caroline’s eyes were brown. He came forward, took her hand, kissed it, and sat down.
Rachel was there; Gale Brandon; Miss Silver in a very odd grey dress which looked as if it had been trimmed with black tape; and Louisa Barnet-Louisa stiffly apart, wearing her Sunday black and the expression which she reserved for funerals. Rachel wore black too, but bright at her breast was the oak sprig she had chosen with Gale. And he had said he wanted it for the woman whom he had loved all her life. The diamond leaves and the acorn cups gave out a frosty sparkle. The pearls had their own soft, changing sheen.
There was a silence, and then Rachel said,
“We’ve got to talk this out, and then we needn’t ever speak of it again. I have asked Louisa to be present-she and Miss Silver know why. Miss Silver has something to tell us, and so has Caroline.”
Noisy, stretched out in front of the fire, opened one eye, rolled over, and began very delicately to wash his face in exactly the same way as a cat, except that cats, to whom the toilet is a sacred rite, sit up and give it their entire attention. Noisy licked lazily, stroked a somnolent face, and presently sank again into a dream of badgers.
The room was very quiet as Miss Silver said,
“Where would you like me to begin, Miss Treherne?”
“I leave it to you.”
Miss Silver moved her chair a little. She could now see everyone quite comfortably. Dear me, how pale they all were! All except Mr. Brandon. It was impossible to imagine Mr. Brandon looking pale. A very forcible type. He would be a great support to poor Miss Treherne. Wealth was certainly a terrible responsibility, and the cause of a great deal of crime, but if you had it you just had to make the best of it.
She cleared her throat, coughed slightly, and began to speak.
“I came down here at Miss Treherne’s request. She had furnished me with a list of her relatives and some information regarding them. But members of the same family are not always the best judges of one another’s characters. They are apt to be biased by such things as early association, custom, and personal predilection. I became aware immediately of the presence of these three factors. Of Mr. Richard Treherne and Miss Caroline Ponsonby Miss Treherne could believe no wrong. Of Mr. Maurice and Miss Cherry Wadlow she was, on the contrary, quite prepared to believe anything. Between these two extremes there were, Mr. Wadlow and Miss Comperton who irritated her but whom she found herself unable to suspect, Mrs. Wadlow whom she took for granted, and Mr. Frith for whom she had a strong cousinly affection.”
Richard said, frowning, “Is all this really necessary?”
It was Rachel who answered,
“I think so. Please go on, Miss Silver.”
Miss Silver continued.
“I arrived to find that Miss Treherne had met with a very serious accident. I was at once placed in a considerable dilemma. The circumstances were such that the police should have been called in. Miss Treherne positively refused to allow this. She even went so far as to declare that she would deny the whole thing if the police were sent for. I had therefore to do the best I could, and I may say that I have never had a more serious responsibility laid upon me. I was convinced that Miss Treherne’s life was being attempted by one of her relatives, and that this person was a very cool and daring criminal with a great deal at stake. I discovered that I was not the only person to be convinced of this. Louisa Barnet was so much convinced of it that she had for some time been risking her situation and her character in a series of foolish attempts to alarm Miss Treherne.”
Louisa sniffed. Her eyelids were red, her mouth made a straight, hard line. At the mention of her name she stared fiercely at Rachel for a moment and then looked down again at the hands which were clenched in her lap.
Miss Silver coughed slightly.
“The attempts were foolish and rather alarming, but I am convinced that her motive was concern for her mistress. Miss Treherne did become alarmed, and her alarm brought her to me. I quickly discovered Louisa’s activities. But Miss Treherne’s accident on the cliff was quite another matter. In this case I exonerated Louisa immediately. Real devotion is unmistakable, and it was plain to me that she would have died for Miss Treherne.”