Was it really the ghost of Christopher Hale who walked in Annie’s dream, or was it the ghost of William Jackson?
Miss Silver leaned forward from where she stood at the foot of the bed and said,
“Annie!”
There was a change at once. The hands which had been clenched at the thin chest were flung out as if to ward a blow.
“I didn’t tell-I didn’t-I didn’t! No one can say I did! There isn’t no one can say I was there! There isn’t no one-” On the last word her voice faltered and dropped. Her hands dropped too. She looked about her as if she had waked in a strange place-wardrobe on the right-chest of drawers and washstand on the left, with the jug lifted out of the basin and the night-light burning.
Her troubled gaze came to rest upon Miss Silver in her blue dressing-gown, her hair very neatly controlled by the strong brown net which she wore at night.
“What-is it?”
“You have had a bad dream. You cried out.”
Annie closed her eyes. The dream still lay behind them.
“It won’t let me be-” The tears began to run down over her pinched face. “It won’t let me be. Soon as ever I lie down it’s there again. I dursn’t go to sleep but I’m down there in the dark-and the water drowning him.” Her eyes flew open suddenly. “I didn’t say it-oh-I didn’t say it!”
Miss Silver came round to the side of the bed. She sat down there.
“Annie, won’t you tell me what happened on the night your husband was drowned? If you did, I think that the dream would go away, and that you would not be troubled with it again.”
Annie stared at her with dilated eyes.
“And have them-hang me?” she said.
Miss Silver took one of the bony hands.
“Have you done anything for which they could hang you?”
The hand jerked in hers. The whole frail body jerked.
“And who’s going to believe I didn’t? Who’s going to believe me against them whose word ’ud be taken afore mine? If my Miss Lucy was here she’d speak for me. Twenty-four years is a long time to be living with anyone, and you’d know they wasn’t the kind to do murder. But she’s gone-and there’s no one now. They’d find out about the girl in Embank-and how I said I wished I was dead before I married him. And they’d see how he bruised me. It didn’t show so much at first-but they couldn’t help but see it now-not if they looked. And they’ll think I did it!”
“And did you do it, Annie?”
She was holding the hand in a firm but gentle clasp. This time there was no jerk. It closed a little upon hers and was still. Annie looked at her and said,
“Oh, no, miss. I’ve wished myself dead many’s the time- but not him.”
“But you went to the watersplash the night that he was drowned?”
Annie took a heavy sobbing breath.
“I’ve gone there most nights lately come closing time-to see if he was coming home. Sometimes he’d come-and sometimes he wouldn’t. Then I’d know he’d gone off to that girl.”
“You went every night?”
“Mostly. Mr. Edward could have told them that-if he’d a mind. There’s a two or three times he’s gone by me-walking quick-coming back from Mr. Barr’s he’d be-and he’d go past me and say good-night. He might have spoke of it-but he wouldn’t want to get me into trouble.”
After the loneliness, the coldness, and the dark secret on her heart, Annie was feeling a quite extraordinary sense of relief. There was an easing of her whole mind and body. The words which had come with so much effort now flowed like water. In some strange unreasoning way she recognized the presence of kindness and authority and responded to them.
Miss Silver held her hand and said gently,
“Then you went down to the splash on the night your husband was drowned-”
Annie repeated the words in an uncertain voice.
“I-went-down-”
“What time was it?”
“It was-getting on-for ten-”
“Did you see Mr. Edward Random?”
“He’d gone past me-just before I come to the splash.”
“Where was he when you came to it?”
“He was going up the slope-and William was coming down. They said a word or two, and I heard him call out, ‘Goodnight, Willy.’ They’d known each other from boys.”
“What happened after that?”
“I went back-up the other side of the rise. I didn’t want William-to see me. I waited to hear him-come over the splash-” She gave a sudden violent shudder. “But he never.”
“Why?”
The answer came in a shaking whisper.
“He was done in-”
“By whom?”
Annie’s eyes met hers in a fixed stare. The flow of words had stopped. Fear had come down and cut them off like the closing of a dam.
“Annie, what did you see, or hear?”
She just stared.
“Did you go down to the splash again?”
“When-he-didn’t come-” The stumbling answer was so faint that it was hardly to be heard.
“And then?”
“He-came-”
“Yes, Annie?”
She pulled away her hand with great suddenness.
“I went away home. Do you think I wanted him to catch me? I ran most part of the way. I see them come down the rise, and I ran for it.”
Miss Silver picked out a single word and presented it with gravity.
“Them?”
The breath caught in Annie’s throat.
“What do you think I’m going to say-that there was someone coming down there after him? It was dark, wasn’t it? How could I see in the dark? And if I could, what do you think I’m going to do-put up my word against them that would set their hand on the Bible and swear they saw me push William in? And stand by and see me hanged-and never lose a good night’s sleep over it neither! Who’s going to credit my word against them that would do that? Not if I was to take my Bible oath that I ran home the fastest I could go!”
“Why did you do that?”
Annie was sobbing, a hand at her throat. Her words came out between the sobs.
“I thought-he’d have-my life. He was drunk-and he was angry. I could hear him-talking-to himself. ‘I’ll get it out of him!’ he said-and a lot of bad words-and, ‘I’ll be even with him!’ And I didn’t wait to hear no more-I took and ran.”
There was a pause. Faint steady light in the room, and a soft air coming in from the mild November night. Miss Silver said,
“Someone was following your husband?”
There was a slight movement of the bruised head.
“Who was it?”
Annie caught her breath painfully.
“It-was-dark-”
“Shall I tell you who it was?”
The sobs ceased. The troubled breathing ceased. Everything seemed to wait and listen.
Miss Silver leaned forward and spoke a name.
CHAPTER XXXVII
Susan went up to the Hall in the morning. It was difficult to go, but it would have been difficult to stay. They had come to a point where there was no easy path. If the police had made up their minds to arrest Edward, they would do it whether Susan Wayne was there or not. And he would hate it more if she was there. It was all that she could do to walk away up the drive and not look back. He meant to go over and see Mr. Barr, but not until later. He would give the police their chance before he went. And every step away from him felt like a long, hard mile. Older and stronger than logic was the instinct which has survived from the beginnings of the race. Nothing will go wrong if I am there. But out of sight what enemies, what pitfalls, what ambushes? Stay where you can cover the creature you love, if need be with your own shrinking flesh. It is when he is alone that the evil thing may creep up close and strike.
Susan did not formulate these things, but they were there under the reasoned thought which told her that the best way to help Edward was to go about her business as if this was just a day like any other day. She would come back at one, and Edward would be there-unless Mr. Barr had kept him.
Doris had lighted a fire in the library. Susan had not really thought about it before, but the sight of the blazing logs reminded her that it was colder. She stood to warm her hands for a minute before putting on her overall and getting down to the eighteenth-century books. She had reached the uppermost shelves by now, which meant climbing almost to the top of the ladder.