Etienne said, as Margot had: They have substituted guns for stones.”
Leon was unconvinced. They have no weapons. If they rose theirs would be scythes and pitchforks . not guns. Where would they get guns?
They haven’t enough money to buy bread . let alone guns. “
“But why Mademoiselle?”
She is reckoned to be one of us now,” answered Etienne.
They went on speculating and I could only believe that Etienne was right. One of them had procured a gun. Why should not one of the servants have stolen it from the gun room? After the behaviour of Bessell and Mimi I knew that even those whom we had misguidedly trusted were no friends of ours.
A subtle change had crept over the household. They knew of the attempt on my life and sometimes it seemed as though they regarded it as very significant. It was as though it were a sign of the changing mood. The time when they threw stones was passing; they were ready to take stronger action. There was a brooding tension inside the house which I had not noticed before. That such existed outside, I had been well aware, but now it seemed to be creeping closer.
When I saw Mimi she would cast down her eyes as though she were ashamed, as well she might be. It was different with Bessell. His manner had become almost truculent. There was the implication: You have to think twice about giving me orders now. I know too much.
I think that perhaps the most distressing of all was NouNou. For most of the time she was shut away in the rooms she had occupied with the Comtesse. She would not allow anything to be touched in those apartments and the Comte had said that she was to be humoured. The servants said they could hear her talking to the Comtesse as though she were still there; and on those occasions when I saw her she would look at me with wide staring eyes seeming to see nothing. The Comtesse’s death had unbalanced her, it was said.
Leon and Etienne were greatly concerned about what had happened to me.
Etienne blamed himself. T should have been there to bring you back to the chateau,” he said.
“I intended to come and half an hour later would have been there. I thought you would stay longer.”
I did not wish to explain to him that I had found his mother’s insinuations so offensive that I had no alternative but to leave.
I merely said: “The shot might have been fired from the bushes if you had been there.”
“I suppose so,” he admitted.
“Of course it wasn’t meant for you personally … just anyone who was not a peasant. But if I’d been there I should have been through those bushes and caught the villain. You must be careful. Never go out unattended again.”
Leon was equally concerned. He waylaid me once when I was in the garden alone and said quietly: “I want to speak to you. Mademoiselle Minelle.”
As we walked away from the chateau together he went on:
“I think you may be in danger.”
“You are thinking of the shot?”
He nodded.
“Etienne thinks it was not meant for me personally. I suppose we are all in danger.”
“It’s the gun that puzzles me,” he said.
“Had it been a stone … or even a knife thrown at you, I could have understood it more. I don’t think it was merely a sign of the times.”
“What do you think?”
“I think that you should lose no time in getting back to England. I wish I could take you.” He looked at me quizzically.
“Dear Minelle, you should not be involved in all this.” He waved his arms.
“It is too unsavoury.”
“But who would want to kill me? No one here really knows me personally.”
He shrugged his shoulders. There has been a death at the chateau and there are unpleasant rumours. “
“Don’t you believe that the Comtesse took her own life?”
Again that lifting of the shoulders. Her death was opportune. The Comte is now free. It is what he has wanted for a long time. We do not know what happened. Perhaps we shall never know, but people talk. I can tell you that they will be talking of the death of the Comtesse in the years to come and there will always be speculation. That is how legend grows up. Do not let it concern you. Go away. Put it all behind you. You do not belong in this decaying society. “
“I have promised to stay with Margot.”
“She will have her own life. You will have yours. You are being caught up in matters which you do not really understand. You judge people by yourself, but let me tell you-all people are not so honest.” He smiled at me frankly.
“I would be your friend … your very good friend. I have a great admiration for you. I would come to England with you but I am chained here and here I must remain. But please go. You are in danger here.
That is a warning which should not be ignored. Good luck was with you once. It may not be again. “
“Tell me what you know. Who would want to kill me?”
“All I know is that you must suspect everyone … everyone until you have proved them to be innocent.”
“You know something.”
“I know this: You are a good and charming young lady whom I admire and wish to see in safety. While you are here you are in danger. Please go back to England. There is still time. Who knows, very soon it may be too late.”
I turned to him and looked into his face. There was real concern in those vivid blue eyes and his smile was not jaunty as it usually was.
I liked him very much. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry I had once thought I saw his face at the window when the stone had been thrown into the ballroom.
Then a terrible feeling of insecurity came to me. He had said: Trust no one. No one. Not Leon, Etienne, not even the Comte.
He looked at me rather wistfully and said softly: “Perhaps … when this is over … I will come to see you in England. Then we may talk of … many things.”
Margot was greatly concerned.
“Just suppose that bullet had killed you. What should have done?”p>
I couldn’t help smiling. That was a typical Margot remark.
But she was anxious on my account as well as her own. I would often find her watching me intently.
“It’s frightening you, Minelle,” she said.
“You look different.”
“I’ll get over it.”
“I’ll swear you didn’t sleep well last night.”
T kept dozing, half awake, half dreaming I was back in the lane. Once I thought I saw a face in the bushes. “
“Whose face?” she asked eagerly.
“Just a face…”
That was not quite true. It was a face I had seen before.
The face which I saw on the night of the ball. Leon’s face . and yet not Leon. It was as though a mischievous artist had sketched a few lines on Leon’s face-distorting it with rage, envy and a desire to harm. It was so unlike the Leon I had known that somehow I could not connect the two. Leon had always been kindly and during our conversation had been deeply concerned. I knew that he was tolerant more so than Etienne. He saw the people had a case but while he believed great concessions should be given to them, he did not believe in the destruction of a society. It seemed to me that Leon more than any of them understood what was needed and this was natural enough since he had an opportunity of seeing both sides of the case.
Margot talked a great deal about Chariot and her satisfaction that she had discovered him. She was in a rare euphoric mood. It was well, she said, that she had found out Bessell’s true nature. She did not believe Mimi was to blame. She had been influenced by Bessell, but she would be glad to be rid of them both.
“How long is the period of mourning?” she asked.
“It’s a year in England, I believe,” I replied.
“It’s probably the same in France.”
“A year … what a long time!”