Opportunity came about half an hour before supper. It was safe then because Jessie was always in the kitchen at that time supervising the meal. That was something which was too important to be left entirely to others.
I was ready. I heard her go downstairs and slipped up to her room. Quickly, silently I opened the door.
I stared. The crucifix was in its place on the wall.
I could not believe it. I was sure earlier that day it had not been there.
Could I trust myself? Was my imagination betraying me?
I felt very alarmed.
Tomorrow, I promised myself, I will go to the wasteland. If the crucifix is there then it was not Jessie’s and I must have imagined I saw that blank wall. How could I? I was a practical woman of common sense, or so I had always believed.
What was happening to me in this strange place? Why did I fear I was being followed in the woods? Why did I see something sinister in Dickon because he happened to be where I was a great deal lately? Why should I feel this increasing menace just because he carried a pistol with him?
It was night—restless, uneasy night. I had got through the evening tolerably well. Although Dr. Cabel did say at supper: “You are very thoughtful this evening. Mistress Ransome.”
I said I was feeling a little tired and would retire early.
I had not seen Uncle Carl that evening. Dr. Cabel had said he was no worse but just very very tired and he was sleeping deeply so it was not wise to waken him even to see me.
“It must be something in the air,” he said. “You are both tired today. It’s the weather. It can have that effect.”
I had made my excuse to retire early and I did so.
But not to sleep. I had made up my mind that the next day I was going to see Mr. Rosen. There was one thing I wanted to do first and that was ascertain that the crucifix was no longer on the wasteland. Whether it was or not I should go straightaway to Mr. Rosen.
I would ask what I should do before going home, for I was determined to go home soon.
I was still wide awake at half past one when I heard movements similar to those which I had heard before. I got out of bed and went to the window and waited. It was not long before a figure emerged from the house. It was a man in a long cloak who was certainly not Amos or Dickon. Then who?
I watched him walk across the lawn. Then an idea came to me. I put on my dressing gown and opening my door stood for a second or so listening. Then I went down the short staircase to the corridor in which was Uncle Carl’s room.
I sped along to it. I turned the handle and went in. There was enough moonlight to show me the furniture, the fourposter bed … with the curtains half drawn as they always had been.
I went to the bed. I think I had half expected what I saw. The bed was empty.
Events suddenly slipped into place like a jigsaw puzzle.
My earlier suspicions were proved to be founded in truth. The man in the bed had not been my uncle.
I looked round the room. I opened one of the cupboards. Clothes were hanging there. There was a shelf on which were various pots and pads and brushes … such as I imagined were used by actors.
Actors! They had been playing a drama … comedy … a farce … whatever, it was for my benefit.
They were actors … all of them … the doctor, the man in the bed … and Jessie knew it. She was one of them.
I had the proof I needed now. I could go along to Mr. Rosen tomorrow with the evidence I had gathered.
In another cupboard were playing cards. I smiled grimly. That was how they whiled away the time when they were not coaching this man for the part of Lord Eversleigh, while they were waiting for the moment when they would play their little scene for me.
They were ingenious people and they would be desperate. They must not know that I had uncovered their little plot before I had seen Mr. Rosen.
Shortly the bogus Lord Eversleigh would be returning. I imagined he took exercise at night for clearly he could not go out during the day.
I was aware that if anyone found me here I should be in acute danger. If they were bold enough to work out such a devious plan how far would they carry it?
In sudden panic I went swiftly to the door. I looked out into the corridor. All was quiet.
I crossed the corridor to the window and because of the heavy curtains I believed I could conceal myself there.
I went over and tried it. Yes. I could satisfy myself that no part of me was visible. I would now await the return of the actor who had played Uncle Carl in the piece.
I was cold and cramped through having to conceal myself, but I was rewarded.
Soon after two o’clock there was the familiar creak of the door followed by the sound of soft footsteps on the stairs.
I peeped out and saw him open the door of the room and disappear within.
I crept back to my room.
This is a gigantic fraud, I thought. And what happened to Uncle Carl? I was certain now that he was dead and buried in the haunted patch.
I knew the spot. It was where the crucifix had been.
My mind was working so fast that I almost played with the idea of getting a spade and digging up that grave.
That would be unwise. I could not do it on my own. I must get help.
How I wished there was someone who could advise me.
I played with the idea of calling in Dr. Forster. Could I bring him in? I did not know why I thought so much about him. It must be his connection with Enderby and the fact that I had first seen him in that spot where I had found Gerard.
No. Mr. Rosen was the one, although I could not imagine what his reaction would be to the bizarre story I should have to tell him.
It was foolish to expect to sleep. I lay in bed impatiently waiting for the morning to come.
I was out of bed at dawn and as I reached for my dressing gown I saw that the button which I had meant to sew on yesterday had come off.
A horrible thought struck me. Suppose I had dropped it in what was ironically called the “sick room”? They would know I had been there. Then I should certainly be in danger.
Everything must appear as normal. I went down to breakfast. Dickon was there. He smiled at me almost patronizingly, I thought, and it occurred to me that had he been different, if I could have trusted him, I might have confided in him.
I would not dream of doing that. Sometimes the thought came to me that he was involved with it all, but I did not see for what purpose, and Dickon would always have to have a purpose, one which worked to his advantage.
“You’re in a hurry this morning,” he said.
“No.”
“And you seem preoccupied.”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Thinking of the adventures of the day to come, I’ll swear.”
It was almost as though he knew.
“I don’t suppose they will be as exciting as yours.”
He laughed. “Zipporah,” he said, “I wish sometimes that you liked me a little. It worries your mother and mine that you’re not more fond of me.”
“If esteem is wanted it has to be earned.”
“I know,” he said mockingly. “Alas.”
I stood up.
“So soon,” he said. “You’ve eaten scarcely anything.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“I’ll see you later.”
I did not answer and went out.
I should need my horse because I was going into the town to see Mr. Rosen. First, though, I was going to ride out to the haunted patch to see if the cross was there.
I felt better now that I was taking action. I began to piece everything together. My uncle had died. … Would someone have helped him to die? I wondered what advantage that would have brought, for Jessie had seen that he was more use to her alive than dead. That was why she had brought in her fellow actors. … They knew how to play their parts. … What was their motive? To enjoy a comfortable life at Eversleigh and take what they could. I thought of the statue at Grasslands.