‘That’s what you say, my dear, and I’m sure it’s very kind of you, and I don’t like to feel that I’m keeping you back from church, but really when I think that it was only last Sunday that poor Mr Harsch was with us and the blackberry tart was so particularly good! It isn’t everyone who cares for cold pastry, but Evan never will have any cooking done on Sunday, so what can you do? But last Sunday it really was as light as a feather, and poor Mr Harsch enjoyed it so much, and had a second helping.’ Two more tears ran down, and she wiped them away. ‘Oh, my dear – do you believe in premonitions?’
‘I don’t know-’ said Janice.
‘Nor do I,’ said Mrs Madoc with a gulp. ‘But do you think perhaps Mr Harsch had one? He said such a curious thing to me on Monday night. He’d been over to Marbury, you remember, to get something he wanted for that last experiment, and he came in late because he missed the bus and had to walk from the Halt. And I thought he looked bad when he came in, so I said to him, “Are you very tired, Mr Harsch?” and he said, “I don’t know – I think I must be. I have just seen a ghost.” ’
Janice said, ‘What?’
Miss Madoc nodded.
‘That is what he said, my dear. And I said, “Oh, Mr Harsch!” and he smiled and said, “Did I frighten you? I wouldn’t like to do that. It is nothing for you to be afraid of.” Do you think that he really saw something?’
‘I don’t know-’
Miss Madoc wiped her eyes upon a folk-weave handkerchief which had rough yellow and green threads running across it. Even at a moment like this Janice couldn’t help thinking how uncomfortable it must be.
‘I do wonder what he saw,’ said Miss Madoc. ‘My grandfather knew a man who met himself. He was going out to do something which he ought not to have been doing – I don’t know what it was – and he met himself face to face in the bright moonlight. My grandfather said it was like Balaam and the ass, only I don’t know why, because Balaam was riding the ass, and this man was quite alone and on foot. And the moon was very bright – he could see himself quite clearly. A most dreadful terror came over him, and he turned round and ran, and never stopped running until he came to the minister’s house. And he could hear his own footsteps coming after him all the way. My grandfather said he was a changed man from that day. He had been a terrible one for drink and women, but he became a very sober, god-fearing man. Do you think Mr Harsch saw anything like that?’
Janice said, ‘I don’t know-’ She was thinking of what Mr Harsch had said to her.
Miss Madoc covered her face with the folk-weave handkerchief and burst into tears.
‘I’m a wicked woman to be telling stories, and Evan in prison waiting to be hanged! If only I hadn’t told them about the key!’
It went round like that in circles all the morning. By the time Garth came up after lunch to take her for a walk, Janice was feeling as if she had been put through a wringer. The afflicted lady was induced to go and lie down, and Mrs Williams was left in charge.
As soon as they were well away Garth said, ‘I’ve got it all taped. We catch the nine o’clock bus tomorrow morning and go up to town. I’ll go and see Sir George, and you can fix things up with Miss Silver. The sooner she gets here the better – it’s a cold scent now. She’d better come down with us and get cracking. By the way, Mrs Mottram came up after church and poured a bit of cold water – at least I thought it was meant to be cold water.’
‘What did she say?’
He laughed.
‘Oh, a piece about perhaps the police wouldn’t like it if you had Miss Silver down, and most likely she would be away on a case, but of course she really was too marvellous, only if Mr Madoc had really done it there wasn’t anything any one could do, was there? It’s rather a pity she’s had to come in on it at all, because now everyone in Bourne will know why Miss Silver is here.’
‘I expect they’d know anyhow. You can’t keep secrets in a village.’
He slipped a hand inside her arm as they walked.
‘What will they say when we’re seen to go off on the bus together in the morning?’
When her face looked so white and small it did something to his feelings. It pleased him to see her colour rise.
‘Perhaps they’ll think we’re eloping. It will be a dreadful disappointment when we come back in the evening with Miss Silver.’
‘It would be rather fun to elope. Shall we?’
Janice met his laughing, teasing look and said, There’s nowhere left to elope to till after the war.’
On the top of her mind she was rather pleased with this answer, but deep underneath something despaired and said, ‘It’s no good – I love him frightfully – I always have, and I can’t stop.’ It was like being caught by an undertow which took your feet off the bottom and carried you out to sea – it was too strong to resist. She didn’t want to resist it. The colour that had come up into her face died down until it was altogether gone. There was just that little bit of a white face, and the very bright no-coloured eyes that wouldn’t look away.
They were standing still on the edge of a tilted field. Nothing but sky, and air, and the green slope of the grass. Garth put an arm round her shoulders. He said in a startled voice, ‘What’s the matter, Jan?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Are you all right?’
She nodded. Now she could look away.
‘I’ve had a dreadful morning with Miss Madoc.’
‘Hasn’t she any relations who could come?’
‘I don’t think so. If we can make her feel that something is being done, it will help. You see, she’s made up her mind that he’s going to be hanged. She keeps on talking about it.’
The arm about her shoulders tightened.
‘My poor child!’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter about me. It’s dreadful to see a much older person go to pieces like that.’
They walked on in silence for a minute or two. Garth kept his arm where it was. Presently he said, ‘Why has she made up her mind that he’s going to be hanged?’
She looked up at him. A shadow went across her eyes. She looked away.
‘I don’t know-’
‘Jan – does she think he did it?’
He felt her shake. She began to say, ‘I don’t know,’ but her voice stopped in the middle of a word. Her face quivered and she began to cry, quite quietly but with no more attempt at concealment than if she had still been ten years old.
Garth put his other arm round her.
‘Jan-Jan – darling! Don’t cry like that – please don’t!’
And then he was kissing her – her forehead, the curve of her cheek, the wet weeping eyes.
‘Jan, don’t, – I hate it! It’s going to be all right – we’ll make it all right. We’ll get Miss Silver. Jan, don’t cry any more! Here’s a handkerchief. I’m sure you haven’t got one.’
She stopped crying. How many other girls’ tears had he dried? She took the handkerchief and dried her own. Then she said, ‘Please let me go.’
He went on holding her. Funny little thing – darling little thing. He wanted to kiss her again; but somehow he couldn’t. Her eyes looked up at him with a sort of sorrowful candour.
‘I’m sorry about crying – men do hate it so. But it doesn’t mean very much – just Miss Madoc, and-and things.’
He put his cheek against hers for a moment. The words that had been in his mind said themselves aloud.
‘Funny little thing – darling little thing!’
This time she stepped back resolutely.
‘Thank you for being kind. We’d better go on walking.’
‘I don’t think I want to walk.’