Such politenesses passed as would be usual between any hostess and guest. Then Miss Silver said briskly,
“I see you have a good deal to tell me, but before you begin-are we perfectly private here? Those two doors?”
“One leads to my bathroom, the other to my own sitting-room. There is no other way into the bathroom, but it might be best to lock the door leading from the sitting-room into the passage.”
She was about to rise, but was prevented. Miss Silver said, “Allow me,” and trotted over to the sitting-room door. Rachel heard her open the second door. Then the click of the key informed her that it was being locked.
Miss Silver came back, but she did not immediately sit down. She went first to the bathroom and looked in, after which she resumed her chair, opened the black satin bag, and drew out her knitting, a mass of pale blue wool which, unfolded, declared itself as one of those rambling wraps or scarves in which invalids are invited to entangle themselves. Miss Silver herself called it a cloud.
“For dear Hilary. Such a sweet girl, and the pale blue should be most becoming. And now, Miss Treherne, why did you ring me up in the middle of the night? And what has been happening today?”
Chapter Seventeen
Rachel answered both questions as briefly as possible. She told her about Neusel finding the adders in her bed, and thought how long ago it seemed. Then she told her about being pushed over the cliff.
Except for a single “My dear Miss Treherne!” Miss Silver listened in complete silence. She had ceased to knit. Her hands rested idle on the pale blue wool, and her eyes never left Rachel’s face. At the end she said quickly.
“You are not hurt?”
“No-only bruised.”
“You have been providentially preserved. May I ask you one or two questions? This visit to your old nurse-how many people knew of it?”
Rachel lifted the hand on her knee and let it fall again.
“Everyone. You see, I go every week.”
“And this Mr. Brandon-did he know?”
Rachel felt her color rise.
“Yes, he knew. Lately he has been walking back with me. I have found him waiting when I came out.”
“But he was not waiting for you this evening?”
“I think he came at the usual time. I had left early.”
“Yes? Why did you do that?” The small, nondescript eyes were very keen.
“Nanny said something which upset me.”
“Will you tell me what it was?”
Rachel hesitated. Then she told Miss Silver the story which Ellen had brought home about the woman in the green scarf who bought two live adders in a shrimping-net. But she could not bring herself to repeat all the nonsense old Nanny had talked about Cosmo Frith.
“I see. And what member of your household has a green scarf?”
All the color went out of Rachel’s face.
“My two young cousins, Cherry Wadlow and Caroline Ponsonby. That is what upset me-but it’s quite, quite impossible.”
“And they were both here at the time?”
“Cherry went away this morning.” The restraint she had put upon her voice broke suddenly. “Miss Silver-”
Miss Silver looked at her very kindly.
“My dear Miss Treherne, I do beg that you will not distress yourself. You are very fond of Miss Caroline, are you not?”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“It is quite, quite impossible,” she said in a tone of intense feeling.
Miss Silver picked up her knitting.
“Let us revert to the events of this afternoon. You did not take your clever little dog with you?”
“No. Nanny doesn’t like him, and I’m afraid he doesn’t like her. He sits on the other side of the room and growls. In fact they’re better apart.”
“Ah-a pity. And that would be known too, I suppose. A great pity. He would probably have given you some warning-but it cannot be helped. Miss Treherne, are you sure that you were pushed?”
Rachel lifted steady eyes.
“Quite sure, Miss Silver.”
“Was it a man or a woman who pushed you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try and think. A man’s hand is larger, harder-there would be more force. Try and remember what sort of a blow it was. Were you struck with a hard impact? Was there much weight behind it? Or was it more of a push? You said that you were pushed.”
A faint shudder passed over Rachel.
“It was a very hard push.”
“So that it might have been a man or a woman.”
“I think so.”
“It wasn’t the kind of blow that a very strong man would strike-Mr. Brandon for instance?”
Rachel began to laugh.
“How do you know that Mr. Brandon is so strong?”
“Only a very strong man could have pulled you up.”
Rachel went on laughing. It was a relief to laugh.
“My dear Miss Silver, if Mr. Brandon had knocked me over the cliff, I should never have had a chance to catch hold of my bush. I should have gone flying right out to sea.”
Miss Silver’s eyes twinkled pleasantly.
“And that is just what I wanted to know,” she said. “It comes to this, you see-the person who pushed you over did not use any very great force. You were taken unawares, and you were thrown off your balance. It may quite easily have been a woman.”
Rachel winced sharply. All the laughter went out of her.
Miss Silver leaned forward.
“I am sorry to pain you, but I am bound to ask these questions. However, for the present I have done. I spent quite a profitable time before coming up to you. I had some conversation with all your relatives. I find that the manner in which people behave to someone whom they consider quite unimportant is often highly illuminating.”
Rachel had no illusions about her family. She quailed a little. She hoped for the best as she said,
“And were you illuminated?”
Miss Silver stabbed her pale blue wool with a yellow needle like a long, thin stick of barley-sugar. She said in a dry little voice,
“Oh, considerably.”
Rachel said, “Well?”
“Each of them has something on his or her mind. With most of them it is, I think, money.”
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Wadlow talks very freely. It does not matter to her whether the person she talks to is a stranger or not. All that matters is that she should be able to talk about her dearest Maurice, and her fears for his health if he should go to Russia, and her hopes that you will make it possible for him to engage in some much safer enterprise in this country. She also talks, but with less feeling, about her daughter, whom she seems to suspect of being financially embarrassed and possibly on the brink of an elopement.”
“Mabel said all that?”
Miss Silver nodded.
“In about twenty minutes-on the sofa-after dinner. I had not much talk with Miss Caroline, but I observed her. She is deeply troubled, and uncertain what she ought to do. Mr. Richard is, of course, in love with her, and her trouble may merely be that the course of true love does not run quite smooth. Are there financial obstacles to their marriage?”
Rachel said, “I don’t know. Richard won’t take anything from me. I helped him with his training, and he has paid me back. I don’t know whether he is in a position to marry or not. Caroline ought to have about three hundred a year, but I think she must have had losses. She’s been doing without things, and I know she sold a ring. I haven’t liked to say anything-she’s sensitive.”