"I think I understand very well," I said. "I think, too, that I know how to deal with Sir Jason."
"The rather annoying part of all this is that we have to, as they say, keep on the right side of him. If he became spiteful ... imagine what he could do."
"In spite of his many failings I don't think he would be that."
"Oh?"
"Well, I was thinking of all the gossip in the town about him over his wife's death and his association with Mrs. Martindale. He knows it and yet he is very lenient with those people. I suppose he could put the fear of God into them if he wanted to."
"H'm," said Daisy. "Well, my dear, you can't very well refuse to go, and Miss Barston will be a good chaperone."
"I'll go over this afternoon."
"That's right. If you go about two you can be back at four. I believe you have a class at four thirty." "Yes. The last of the day."
The matter was closed as far as Daisy was concerned. I must admit that I was not altogether displeased to be riding over to the Hall, although every day it seemed I learned something more about him and it was mostly derogatory. Now the dainty pretty Hilda Lyons had put in an appearance.
Mrs. Keel greeted us. No doubt she had her instructions.
"I was to take you to the rooms which Sir Jason particularly wanted you to see. He will be with you in five or ten minutes."
"Thank you, Mrs. Keel."
"He will be glad Miss Barston has come. He has something special to show her. It is in the library. I'll take you there, Miss Barston, and then you can join Miss Grant when you have seen them."
"I shall be most interested to see whatever it is," said Miss Barston.
Mrs. Keel took us to the library where several old manuscripts were laid out on the table. Miss Barston was immediately absorbed.
"I'll just take Miss Grant up and come for you later, Miss Barston, when you've had time to look through those papers. There are some drawings there of costumes ... last century, I think Sir Jason said. Miss Grant, will you come with me?"
I followed her out of the library. We went along a corridor and came to a stone staircase.
"I don't know whether you have been to this part of the house before, Miss Grant."
I said I hadn't.
"This staircase leads to a set of apartments which we don't use. They have a historical significance, Sir Jason says."
"How interesting."
Mrs. Keel opened a door. I was in a long low room with heavy beams across the ceiling. The windows were small but we were at the top of the house and it was fairly light.
"It's quite an apartment," said Mrs. Keel. "A Little separate from the rest of the house. I'll bring Miss Barston up when she's finished with the drawings."
She went out leaving me a Little uneasy.
"Well, why have you brought me here?"
"I knew you'd want to see it. You were so interested when I told you the story."
"What story was that?"
"About our devilish ancestors. This is said to be the apartment where our satanic prisoner was kept when the wicked Verringer was trying to force him to marry his daughter. It's called the Devil's Den."
"Very interesting," I said. "Is that all you wanted to show me?"
"I have a great deal to show you."
"Then I am sure Miss Barston will be interested too. Shouldn't she be brought up?"
"You wouldn't spoil her pleasure in those magnificent drawings. These rooms are used on certain occasions only. Would you like me to tell you about it?"
"Yes."
"There is said to be a certain quality ... an aura ... about them. Perhaps you can sense it."
I looked round the room. What I was aware of was the isolation, and those bars across the window of the bedroom gave it a somewhat sinister atmosphere.
"There is said to be an aphrodisiacal ambience in these rooms ... something which was left by the Devil when he honoured us."
I laughed to hide my uneasiness. I was embarrassed that he should talk to me in this manner and I guessed he was leading up to something which put me on my guard and yet at the same time excited me. There was something about him which was different from anyone else I had ever known and, while it alarmed me, it fascinated me.
"The story goes back into the past," he went on. "If childless couples slept here, it was said, they were sure of ... fertility. Such an important person as the Devil couldn't live somewhere for even a short space of time without leaving something behind, could he?"
"Well, I suppose if you believe that sort of thing it is very interesting."
"You would believe, wouldn't you?"
"No."
"What about your stranger in the forest? You see, at some time we all have odd inexplicable experiences. Mrs. Keel always comes up here with the servants when they clean. She says the silly girls imagine things. One of them said she saw the Devil and he forced her to get into the bed with him. It turned out to be that she had been sporting with one of the stable boys and as he would have none of it, the Devil seemed a good substitute."
"You see, people fit these legends to suit themselves."
"My brother and I used to come up here sometimes. We stayed here one night ... just to show we were not afraid. Then he wagered me that I wouldn't sleep here alone."
"And of course you did and saw the Devil."
"Yes and no. I came, but his Satanic Majesty did not deign to put in an appearance on that night." "I am sure Miss Barston would love to see it. Shall we go down to her?"
"I have instructed Mrs. Keel regarding Miss Barston."
"There doesn't seem to be anything much to see up here," I said. "Apart from the legend it might be an ordinary apartment."
"There is so much I want you to see."
"Well, show me."
"It is a matter of understanding. You know how very much I am attracted by you."
"I have noticed that you are inclined to appear rather frequently."
"How else could I get you to realize what a fine fellow I am?"
"You don't have to appear so frequently to keep me informed of that. I am constantly hearing of you. As we have said before, you are the main topic of conversation in the neighbourhood. But what I can only call your waylaying me and contriving meetings like this is rather embarrassing. You really must understand that I am not one of your Mrs. Martindales or Miss Lyons ..."
"Good Heavens!" he said. "That goes back a long way."
"You can be sure it was duly noted when it occurred."
"Obviously. Hilda Lyons, a pretty little thing but no conversationalist."
"She was a schoolmistress, I believe. Understandably she lacked the glamour of someone like Mrs. Martindale."
"Not necessarily. Take Miss Grant for instance." "It is her future which interests me most." "And me," he said, looking earnest suddenly.
I stood up but he was beside me. He put an arm about me.
"Please ... don't touch me."
He took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him.
"You have a tremulous mouth," he said. "It betrays you." Then he kissed me. He frightened me. I felt he was going to crush my body. It was such a violent embrace.
I fought him off.
"You are insufferable ..." I panted.
"Which is rather nice, eh?"
"Please do not use those tactics with me."
"I know you are not Mrs. Martindale or yet Miss Lyons. You are far more attractive... far more passionate ... far more desirable than either."
"Your past mistresses are of no interest to me."
"You do not always speak the truth do you? I thought schoolmistresses were supposed to. I'll tell you something. They are of the utmost interest to you."
"Do you always tell people what they must think, what they must do?"