“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 glimpse 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.