It was stiflingly hot in the little cupboard so I went to the window and found to my delight that I could open it, and when a little air came in the atmosphere was more bearable.
I sat down on my stool. It must be nearly ten o’clock. We should leave early in the morning. There was not a great deal of time to be spent here, and how glad I should be when the dawn came.
Then suddenly a gust from the open window doused my candle. I sighed but did not attempt for a while to relight it. There was a halfmoon and it was a clear night, so as my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom I could see well enough.
It was then that I became aware of the crack of light in the wall. Perplexed, I stared at it; then I got up to examine it.
Good heavens, I thought. There must have been a door there at one time. It has been boarded up.
Yes, that was it. Boarded up and not too expertly done. This cupboard room of mine must at one time have led from the room next to it—perhaps it was a kind of dressing room—and there had obviously been a small communicating door between the two rooms. Someone must have decided to shut it off completely to make a maid’s room of it.
There was this slight crack at the side which would hardly have been visible if I had not been in the dark and there was light in the room behind the partition. And as I was examining it, I heard the mumble of voices. At first I thought they came from the corridor. Then I realized that they were coming through the crack in the wall.
John Field and his friends were in urgent discussion. I shrugged my shoulders. I imagined them sitting down to the sucking pig, which had been brought up by the innkeeper’s wife and her serving woman.
Then suddenly I heard my name and I was alert. I put my ear to the crack.
I recognised the voice of John Field. “Carlotta Main … the heiress … one of the Eversleighs … That she should be here this night.”
A mumble of voices.
“I could murder that innkeeper. I said clearly that we were not to be disturbed …”
“It’s only a girl …”
“Yes … but one of the Eversleigh family …”
“You spoke to her?”
“A real beauty.” I heard him chuckle. “A young lady with a high opinion of herself.”
“You were clearly taken with her. Trust you, Hessenfield.”
Hessenfield, I thought. He had said he was John Field. So he had given me a false name. This was no ordinary mission of taking a sick man to a doctor. And why should it need six men to do this? Unless of course they were servants; but from that scrap of conversation I had heard it did not seem that this was the case.
Then I heard him again: “A fiery creature, I imagine. A real beauty.”
“This is not the time for dalliance of that nature.”
“You’ve no need to remind me. We’ll have no trouble with the haughty young lady. She’ll be off at dawn. I gathered that from her.”
“Do you think it was wise …?”
“Wise? What do you mean …?”
“Making yourself known … going to speak to her …”
“Oh, an apology was needed, you know.”
“Trust you to play the gallant. What if she recognised you?”
“How could she? We’ve never met.”
“Well, gave an account of you …”
“The occasion won’t arise. We’ll be out and away within the next few days Stop fidgeting, Durrell. And now … let’s go and eat.”
I heard the shutting of the door and there was silence. They would be partaking of the sucking pig in the next room.
I lighted my candle and went back to my stool.
There was something very mysterious going on and in a way I was caught up in it. It was disconcerting to know how much my presence disturbed them. What had he meant when he said I might recognise the man who called himself John Field? And his real name was Hessenfield. Why should he have given a false name? Because if he were found out in whatever he was doing, he did not want it to be known.
There was a long night to be lived through and I did not expect to get much sleep.
I took off my jacket. I did not intend to undress completely. I had no nightclothes in any case. They were in the saddlebags.
I lay down on the pallet, blew out my candle and found myself watching the crack in the wall.
It must have been past midnight when I saw a flicker of light. I went to the wall and put my ear to the crack. There was no conversation. Evidently someone was in the room alone. In due course the light went out.
I dozed fitfully through the night and as soon as the first streaks of light were in the sky I was preparing to leave. I had settled my account with the innkeeper the previous night and told him that I might be leaving before the household was astir. He had left me some ale and cold bacon with bread on the table and there was a can of water and small ewer. I used these as silently as I could and ate my breakfast.
While I was doing this I heard signs of activity on the landing and guessed that my neighbours were astir also.
I looked out of my window and saw one of them going to the stables.
Then I heard the creaking of stairs.
I was ready. I opened my door and looked out. It was silent. Then I heard the sound of heavy breathing and a gasp as though someone were in pain.
I went along the landing. A door was half open. Then I heard the gasp again.
I pushed open the door and looked in. “Can I help?” I said.
I have often thought afterwards how one moment in time can affect our whole lives and wondered how different everything might have been if I had remained in my room until the party who had shown such a desire for secrecy had gone.
But my curiosity got the better of me and I took a fatal step when I pushed open that door and looked in.
A man was lying in the bed. There was blood on his clothes and his face was the colour of whey. His eyes were wide and glassy and he looked very different from when I had last seen him.
But I recognised him at once. I ran to the bed.
“General Langdon,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
And as I spoke I was aware that someone had come into the room. It was not the man who called himself John Field but one of the others.
He was looking at me with horror. He drew his sword and I thought for a moment that he was going to run it through me.
Then John Field was there.
“Hold!” he cried. “What are you doing, you fool?”
He had knocked the sword out of the other’s hand. I heard it clang to the floor and I stared at it in horror.
“She … knows him,” said the man. “By God, she’s got to die.”
“Not so fast,” said John Field Hessenfield, and it was clear to me that he was the leader. “Kill her … here! You must be mad. What would happen then? They would be after us and we should never get across.”
“We’ve got to finish her,” said the man who would have killed me. “Don’t you understand? She knows … she knows who he is.”
It is a strange feeling to look death in the face but that was what I was doing now. I was bewildered and I could only think that I might so easily now be lying on the floor of this room with a sword through my heart.
“We’d better get out of here quickly,” said the man Hessenfield. “Not a moment to lose.”
He took a step towards me and gripped my arm so firmly that I winced.
“She’ll have to come with us,” he said.
The man who would have killed me relaxed a little. He nodded.
“We can’t get rid of her here, you fool,” said Hessenfield.
“Come on.” Others had come into the room.
“What’s this?” said one.
“Our floor neighbour,” said Hessenfield. “Come on. Get the General out. Carry him carefully. And be quiet, for God’s sake be quiet.”