Since nothing, so far, had come to light to show that the persecution had started before the previous October, suspicion rather naturally centered upon the First-Year students. It was when Dr. Baring had reached this point of her exposition that Harriet felt obliged to speak.
“I am afraid, Warden,” she said, “that I am in a position to rule out the First Year, and in fact the majority of the present students altogether.” And she proceeded, with some discomfort, to tell the meeting about the two specimens of the anonymous writer’s work that she had discovered at and after the Gaudy.
“Thank you, Miss Vane,” said the Warden, when she had finished. “I am extremely sorry that you should have had so unpleasant an experience. But your information of course narrows the field a great deal. If the culprit is someone who attended the Gaudy, it must have been either one of the few present students who were then waiting up for vivas, or one of the scouts, or-one of ourselves.”
“Yes. I’m afraid that is the case.”
The dons looked at one another.
“It cannot, of course,” went on Dr. Baring, “be an old student, since the outrages have continued in the interim; nor can it be an Oxford resident outside the college, since we know that certain papers have been pushed under people’s doors during the night, to say nothing of inscriptions on the walls which have been proved to have come into existence between, say, midnight and the next morning. We therefore have to ask ourselves who, among the comparatively small number of persons in the three categories I have mentioned, can possibly be responsible.”
“Surely,” said Miss Burrows, “it is far more likely to be one of the scouts than one of ourselves. I can scarcely imagine that a member of this Common Room would be capable of anything so disgusting. Whereas that class of persons-”
“I think that is a very unfair observation,” said Miss Barton. “I feel strongly that we ought not to allow ourselves to be blinded by any sort of class prejudice.”
“The scouts are all women of excellent character, so far as I know,” said the Bursar, “and you may be sure that I take very great care in engaging the staff. The scrubbing-women and others who come in by the day are, naturally, excluded from suspicion. Also, you will remember that the greater number of the scouts sleep in their own wing. The outer door of this is locked at night and the ground-floor windows have bars. Besides this, there are the iron gates which cut off the back entrance from the rest of the college buildings. The only possible communication at night would be by way of the buttery, which is also locked. The Head Scout has the keys. Carrie has been with us fifteen years, and is presumably to be trusted.”
“I have never understood,” said Miss Barton, acidly, “why the unfortunate servants should be locked up at night as though they were dangerous wild beasts, when everybody else is free to come and go at pleasure. However as things are, it seems to be just as well for them.”
“The reason, as you very well know,” replied the Bursar, “is that there is no porter at the tradesmen’s entrance, and that it would not be difficult for unauthorized persons to climb over the outer gates. And I will remind you that all the ground-floor windows that open directly upon the street or the kitchen yard are barred, including those belonging to the Fellows. As for the locking of the buttery, I may say that it is done to prevent the students from raiding the pantry as they frequently did in my predecessor’s time, or so I am informed. The precautions are taken quite as much against the members of the college as against the scouts.”
“How about the scouts in the other buildings?” asked the Treasurer. “There are perhaps two or three occupying odd bedrooms in each building,” replied the Bursar. “They are all reliable women who have been in our service since before my time. I haven’t the list here at the moment; but I think there are three in Tudor, three or four in Queen Elizabeth, and one in each of the four little dormer rooms in the New Quad. Burleigh is all students’ rooms. And there is, of course, the Warden’s own domestic staff, besides the Infirmary maid who sleeps there with the Infirmarian.”
“I will take steps,” said Dr. Baring, “to make sure that no member of my own household is at fault. You, Bursar, had better do the same by the Infirmary. And, in their own interests, the scouts sleeping in College had better be subjected to some kind of supervision.”
“Surely, Warden-” began Miss Barton, hotly.
“In their own interests,” said the Warden, with quiet emphasis. “I entirely agree with you, Miss Barton, that there is no greater reason for suspecting them than for suspecting one of ourselves. But that is the more reason why they should be cleared completely and at once.”
“ By all means,” said the Bursar.
“As to the method used,” went on the Warden, “to keep check upon the scouts, or upon anybody else, I feel strongly that the fewer people who know anything about that, the better. Perhaps Miss Vane will be able to put forward a good suggestion, in confidence to myself, or to…”
“Exactly,” said Miss Hillyard, grimly. “To whom? So far as I can see, nobody among us can be taken on trust”
“That is unfortunately quite true,” said the Warden, “and the same thing applies to myself. While I need not say that I have every confidence in the senior members of the College, both jointly and severally, it appears to me that, exactly as in the case of the scouts, it is of the highest importance that we should be safeguarded, in our own interests. What do you say, SubWarden?”
“Certainly,” replied Miss Lydgate. “There should be no distinction made at all. I am perfectly willing to submit to any measures of supervision that may be recommended.”
“Well, you at least can scarcely be suspected,” said the Dean. “You are the greatest sufferer.”
“We have nearly all suffered to some extent,” said Miss Hillyard.
“I am afraid,” said Miss Allison, “we shall have to allow for what I understand is the well-known practice of these unfortunate-um, anonymous-letter writers, of sending letters to themselves to distract suspicion. Isn’t that so, Miss Vane?”
“Yes,” said Harriet, bluntly. “It seems unlikely, on the face of it, that anybody would do herself the kind of material damage Miss Lydgate has received; but if we once begin to make distinctions it is difficult to know where to stop. I don’t think anything but a plain alibi ought to be accepted as evidence.”
“And I have no alibi,” said Miss Lydgate. “I did not leave College on the Saturday till after Miss Hillyard had gone to lunch. What is more, I went over to Tudor during lunchtime, to return a book to Miss Chilperic’s room before I left; so that I might quite easily have taken the manuscript from the Library then.”
“But you have an alibi for the time when the proofs were put in the S.C.R.,” said Harriet.
“No,” said Miss Lydgate; “not even that. I came by the early train and arrived when everybody was in Chapel. I should have had to be rather quick to run across and throw the proofs into the S.C.R. and be back in my rooms again before the discovery was made; but I suppose I could have done it. In any case, I would much rather be treated on the same footing as other people.”
“Thank you,” said the Warden. “Is there anybody who does not feel the same?”
“I am sure we must all feel the same,” said the Dean. “But there is one set of people we are overlooking.”
“The present students who were up at the Gaudy,” said the Warden. “Yes; how about them?”
“I forget exactly who they were,” said the Dean, “but I think most of them were Schools people, and have since gone down. I will look up the lists and see. Oh, and, of course, there was Miss Cattermole who was up for Responsions-for the second time of asking.”
“Ah,” said the Bursar. “Yes. Cattermole.”