“I hope you won’t poison them all,” I had said, and she retorted that they were all so virtuous that they should welcome a quick trip to Heaven.
Whilst I was pondering what to do, Carleton came into the room. He did not knock, he just walked in. I started up angrily but he silenced me immediately.
“Make your way to the library as soon as you can. Wait there until I come. Where are Edwin … and Harriet?”
I told him I did not know. He nodded and said: “Get down soon.”
I knew that something was terribly wrong, and naturally I connected it with the man I had brought to the house.
I went down to the library. Carleton was soon there. He locked the door and opened the secret panel behind the books and we stepped into the storeroom.
“Trouble,” he said. “Trouble and you are to blame.”
“I!”
“You’re a fool,” he snapped. “Don’t you realize the seriousness of our position? Clearly, you don’t. You were the first to arouse suspicion. What a fool Edwin was to bring you.”
“I don’t understand …”
“Of course you won’t understand. That’s obvious. You gave the button to the child. Don’t you know yet that no Puritan, whether she came from Chester or London or anywhere in Cromwell’s land, would wear such a button, would have such a button, and to give it to a child …”
“I thought …”
“You never think. You are empty-headed. How could Edwin have been such a fool as to let you come? There is a man in the house. He has come to investigate. Jasper sent for him because he suspects you all. By the mercy of God he does not suspect me. I have played my part well all these years, and you come here and in a few days we are in acute danger. This man has come here to watch you, Edwin and Harriet. You are under suspicion … and our work not completed. You’ll have to go as soon as we can arrange it.”
“Oh, Carleton, I’m sorry …”
“Sorry. It’s too late to be sorry. A little good sense would have done us more good than sorrow. You must get out as soon as I can arrange it. The moment Edwin and Harriet return, you will have to leave. I don’t know how much has been discovered yet. Apparently you said you had come through Liverpool which is north of Chester. They suspect you never came from Chester at all and they are beginning to see what happened. They suspect you are spies from France. The button betrayed you. In France they would wear such buttons, it seems. Well, there’s no good to be served by telling you what a fool you are and how much better it would have been for us all if you had had the good sense to stay in France. Go to your room. Lock the door. Open to none but me, and if Edwin should return and you see him, make him lock himself in the room while you find me, but I shall be on the watch.”
It was an hour or so later. I was waiting in my room for Harriet or Edwin to return. I was frantic with anxiety. I was afraid they would catch Edwin as he came back to the house.
Then Carleton burst into my room. His eyes were wild and I had never imagined he could be so distraught. Harriet was with him. Her cloak was bloodstained.
“What’s happened?” I cried.
Carleton said: “Get out of your things—change at once. Into your riding habits. Be prepared. I have to get you out of here quickly.”
He went out and I cried: “Harriet, what does it mean? … Where is Edwin?”
She looked at me steadily. Her eyes were burning blue lights in her pale, pale face, and I saw that there was blood on her hair.
“It was terrible,” she said. “Terrible.”
“What? For God’s sake tell me.”
“Edwin,” she began, … “in the arbour. He was trying to save me. You know the arbour … on the edge of the gardens … that tumbled-down old place …”
“What about it? Tell me, Harriet, for Heaven’s sake, tell me.”
“I was near there with my basket of plants and I saw Edwin. I called to him and just then I saw a man with a gun …”
“Oh, no … no …”
She nodded. “He shouted something and Edwin tried to protect me. … He pushed me into the arbour, and stood in front of me. Then he was shot … The blood was terrible …”
“You … you’ve left him …”
I was ready to run from the room but she caught me.
“Don’t go. Carleton said we must stay here. We must wait. He said I must keep you here. There’s nothing you can do. He’s gone to him. They’ll bring him in …”
“Edwin … shot … dying … Of course I must be with him. …”
She clung to me. “No. No. They will kill both of us … as they’ve killed him. You can do no good. You must obey Carleton.”
I stared at her. I could not believe it. But I knew it was true.
They brought him into the house. They had made a rough stretcher. I could not believe that was Edwin—my merry Edwin—lying there. Alive one moment, laughing at life, and then suddenly he was there no more.
Harriet was with me. She had taken off her cape and washed the bloodstains from her hair.
I kept moaning: “I must go to him.”
But she wouldn’t let me. There had been trouble enough. We must not make it worse.
I knew she was right, but it was cruel to keep me from him.
Carleton came in.
He looked at us steadily. “Are you prepared?” he asked.
It was Harriet who answered, “Yes.”
“Ready. We’re going down to the library at once.”
We followed him down and there he locked the door and opened the bookshelves.
“You will stay here until tonight when I hope to get you away. I’ve sent word to Tom. He’ll be waiting for you in the cave. The boat is there. You’ll wait for the tide and pray for a smooth sea.” He looked at me. “Edwin is dead,” he said expressionlessly. “He was shot in the arbour. He died immediately and would have known little of what happened. There was no pain. Now this operation is over. I shall leave our findings with Tom and he can take them back.”
I said: “I want to see Edwin.”
“Impossible,” he said. “He is dead. It would only distress you. I knew it would go wrong when he brought you with him. It’s too late for regrets now. Fortunately, they trusted me.”
He shut us in, and Harriet put her arm about me.
“You have to be strong, Arabella. We’ve got to get back. Think of your family and how much is at stake.”
“Edwin is dead,” I said. “I wasn’t with him … This morning he was well and so alive and now …”
“He died instantly. He wouldn’t have known anything. That must be a consolation.”
“A consolation. What consolation can there be for me? He was my husband.”
I could say no more. I sank down on one of the trunks and thought of Edwin … as I had first seen him; Edwin as Romeo; the occasion when we arrived at the inn and he saw us there. Oh, he was so much in love with life. He knew how to live it. How cruel that he should be taken.
Then I tried to look ahead to the rest of my life without him.
I could not talk to Harriet. I could talk to no one. I only wanted to be alone with my grief.
It was dusk when Carleton came to us. He smuggled us out of the house to where he had horses ready for us, then he rode with us to the coast where Tom was waiting.
The sea was calm but I didn’t care. I wished there were a storm which would overturn our boat. I could not bear the thought of going back without Edwin.
And through my grief was the horrible suspicion. I kept thinking of myself playing with Chastity: I could see her holding the pretty button in the palm of her little hand.
Edwin is dead, I kept saying to myself, and your carelessness killed him.