A sordid situation, perhaps, but not such an unusual one. Certainly not one to give a practical woman—as I prided myself I was—this feeling of menace.
I wanted to get away from those windows which seemed like so many prying eyes. I walked to the edge of the garden and through the shrubbery.
It was a pleasant evening. The sun was just beginning to set—a great red ball in the western sky. The clouds were tinged with pink merging into a fiery red.
I remembered an old rhyme.
Sky’s red,
Billy’s dead
Fine day tomorrow
It was invariably right. Such a sky heralded a warm day to come. But who was Billy? I wondered, and why should they sing so happily about his death?
Death! Carlotta had died young. How uncle did brood on her! He must have been greatly impressed when he saw her. She was a legend in the family. Someone admired for her beauty, and the hope was always there that none of the girls would take after her. None had, presumably. Carlotta had been unique. She had lived here, though she had died in Paris.
Strange … in these fields and lanes many years ago Carlotta had once walked when she was in her early teens. She used to go over to Enderby and there met her lover. They had carried on their passionate liaison there—and he was murdered in time … deservedly, and his body buried somewhere nearby.
I found my footsteps were leading me toward Enderby.
It was not very far. Ten minutes’ walk—perhaps even less. I would walk to the house and then back. The air might make me sleepy, and I should be back just when it was beginning to get really dark.
I could see the house in the distance … a shadowy building in declining light, for the sun had now disappeared below the horizon and the clouds were fast losing their rosy glow.
I had come to that stretch of land close by the house which had once been a rose garden. Some of the bushes still remained. They were tall and overgrown but the flowers still bloomed on them. Few people had gone there in the old days. It had been said to be haunted. It was somewhere in that patch that the remains of Carlotta’s murdered lover lay. It had been fenced in at one time when it had been a rose garden but the fence was now broken down in several places. I don’t know what prompted me to step over the broken pales, but I did so.
There was a hushed feeling in the air—no wind at all, just a silence so deep that I was immediately aware of it. I took a few steps among the overgrown trees and then I saw what I took to be an apparition.
So startled was I that I gasped in dismay and felt myself turn cold, as a shiver ran through me. A man was standing a few yards from me. It was as though he had risen from the ground.
He was splendid. I did not meet many elegant men in the country but my father had been noted for his attention to dress, and I recognized at once that this apparition must be attired in the height of fashion, although I had no idea what that was.
His coat was full, spreading round him: it was velvet in a shade of mulberry as far as I could see in the fading light; it had huge cuffs which turned back from the wrists almost to the elbows. Beneath the coat was a waistcoat heavily embroidered, fringed and laced, open to show a white cravat, a mass of frills. His wig was a profusion of white curls and on top of this he wore a cocked hat.
He took a few steps toward me. My impulse was to run but my limbs seemed numb and I was unable to move.
He spoke then. “Are you real?” he said. “Or one of the ghosts that are said to haunt this place?”
He took off his hat and bowed gracefully in a manner which was a little different from that to which I was accustomed. I noticed that he spoke with a faint accent which was not English.
I heard myself stammer: “I was thinking that of you. You seemed to rise out of the ground.”
He laughed. “I was kneeling searching for a fob I had dropped. See … my eyeglass is attached to it.” He waved the eyeglass before me. “It’s a cursed nuisance to be without a fob and I doubt I can get a new one here. On my knees I was and then suddenly … I perceived an apparition.”
“Oh.” I said with a laugh. “I am so pleased that there is a logical explanation.”
A faint odor of sandalwood wafted toward me. I could not explain what had happened but from the moment I met him I was possessed by an extraordinary excitement which was quite alien to me. It really was as though I had suddenly become some other than quiet, practical Zipporah.
“I’m afraid I shall have to give up the search for the time being,” he said. He looked up at the sky.
“It will shortly be too dark to see anything,” I agreed.
“A clear sky and there will be a crescent moon. But as you say. too dark to find anything in the grass.”
There was a brief silence between us and I said: “Good night. I must be getting home. Good luck with the fob. Perhaps in the morning …”
He had moved round me, almost as though he were barring my way.
“Home?” he asked. “Where is that?”
“I was referring to Eversleigh Court, where I am staying. Lord Eversleigh is a kinsman of mine. I am here on a visit.”
“Visitors both. I am here … en passant too.”
“Oh … where do you stay?”
He waved his hand. “Close by. The name of the house is Enderby.”
“Oh … Enderby!”
“Oh yes, a haunted house, they say. My hosts snap their fingers at ghostly legends. Do you?”
“I have had very little concern with them.”
“You have some way to go back.”
“It’s only a short walk.”
“You are allowed out … so late.”
I laughed, a little uneasily, for there was something about this encounter which was disturbing me a great deal. “I am not a young girl,” I said. “I’m a married woman.”
“And your husband allows … ?”
“My husband is at the moment a long way from here. I am just on a brief visit and shall return very soon. I imagine.”
“Then I think,” he said, “that you should allow me to escort you to Eversleigh Court.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He put out a hand to help me over the broken pales and gripped my arm tightly. “They could be dangerous in the dark,” he said.
“Very few people come here in the dark. They wouldn’t dare.”
“We are brave, eh?”
“When I saw you rise up so suddenly I felt far from brave.”
“And when I saw you I was overcome by excitement. At last a ghost, I said to myself. But I will tell you this: I am relieved that you are flesh and blood after all … which is so much more interesting, don’t you agree? than the stuff that ghosts must be made of.”
I agreed. “So you are visiting the owners of Enderby,” I went on. “I don’t know who they are. The place changes hands now and then, I believe.”
“My friends are not at the house now. They have allowed me to stay there—with their staff of servants—while I have to be in England.”
“It is only for a short time, you say?”
“A few weeks possibly. It is very convenient for me to have this house for my stay here.”
“You are here on … business?”
“Yes … on business.”
“Don’t you find Enderby isolated … for business?”
“I find it very much to my taste.”
“They say it’s gloomy … ghostly. …”