The candle put an end to Marianne's musings by going out altogether. All she could do now was go back to the house and climb into her bed in the cupboard. She sat still for a moment until her eyes grew accustomed to the dark and then got up, hunted for the key which she had put down somewhere near the candle and then left the barn, closing the door carefully behind her and putting the key back in its hole.
Outside, the night was darker than it had been. A high wind was blowing that tugged at her blanket and almost threw her to the ground. For a moment, she was tempted to make her escape then and there, alone, but she suppressed the thought bravely. It was not Jean's fault after all, if she did not find lovemaking very enjoyable and besides, if she were honest, she had to admit that she had to some extent asked for what had happened. In any case, she was bound to Jean by their mutual plot against the wreckers. A pact was a pact.
Turning her back on the tempting heath, Marianne regained her room by the same way that she had left it and got into bed.
She had hardly pulled the covers over her head when she heard the almost imperceptible sound of the key turning in the lock. The hunchback tailor had kept his word.
CHAPTER SIX
The Man of Goulven
When, the next morning, Jean Le Dru was discovered to have fled, Marianne felt as though the skies had fallen on her head. She had taken advantage of a brief spell of sunshine to walk out on to the stretch of bare heath land lying between the manor and the sea. The greasy peasant soup, which was all that was provided by way of breakfast, proved highly indigestible and Marianne felt a strong desire for fresh air. The fragrant tea and crisp toast of Selton Hall seemed a long way away. All thought of them was driven out of her head, when Morvan's cry of wrath rent the quiet morning air.
She did not understand at first what had happened. She was sitting at the foot of one of the strange sandy stones that were dotted about the countryside, watching the calm sea as it lapped lazily against the rocks where seaweed lay in bright green patches. A few patches of timid blue showed between great banks of white cloud against which the flying gulls were half invisible, and down in the hollow of the little bay, a few chimneys were smoking peaceably alongside the boats drawn up on the pebbles.
Some women and children were making their way down to the beach, armed with long boathooks and rakes with which, at low tide, they scraped the seaweed off the rocks and brought home the long, shiny ribbons that were the only wealth of this god-forsaken land.
After the passion of the night before, Marianne was glad to sit dreaming over this scene of beauty and tranquillity. As a result, when she saw Morvan coming towards her, her first feeling was one of irritation. Could the man not let her alone for a moment? The next moment he was on her, grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
'Come back inside – you have deceived me, lied to me – well, you'll not do it again.'
'Do what again? Are you mad? What have I done now?' Marianne cried, stung to quick anger. 'And first of all, let me go!'
She wrenched her arm away. Morvan, forced to let go suddenly, staggered and almost fell. But Marianne could see, that under his ridiculous mask, his face was unusually red. His hands were clenched as he rounded on her again.
'Your precious servant! Whose loyalty you swore by! Well, he's run away and left you!'
Now it was Marianne's turn to stagger. She had expected anything, but not this and did not attempt to hide her shock.
'Run away?' she echoed. 'But – it's not possible! He couldn't.'
She was on the point of saying: 'He couldn't do that to me,' but she bit back the words. But Morvan was already going on.
'I thought so too and I took every care. I had him chained up in the barn. But this morning, when Soizic took him his food, she found the bird flown, the door wide open and the chain sawn through!'
Marianne was hardly listening.
'It's impossible,' she said again blankly. 'Impossible!'
Boiling with anger at such black treachery, she was struggling desperately to remember everything she could. The previous night's events passed through her mind with merciless clarity. Le Dru had been asleep when she had left him, and so deeply asleep that she could have sworn not even a thunderclap would wake him. The chain was unbroken and when she left she had locked the door carefully and put the key back in its place. At that moment, she was quite certain Jean had no means of escape; if he had, he would have told her, and agreed to escape with her at once as she had asked. Her next thought was for the tailor. But Perrinaic had told her that if she meant to escape, she would have to do so alone. It was surely not he who had given the Breton the file to saw through the chain and opened the door. Then who? She had no time for further wondering. With an effort, Morvan had regained control of himself and was saying coldly: 'I am waiting for your explanation.'
Marianne shrugged and sensing that the only thing to do was to appear very cool, she plucked a long stalk of dry grass and began to chew it thoughtfully.
'What explanation do you expect me to give? I am like you, I do not understand. Perhaps he was afraid? If you had chained him—'
'I invariably chain all those who dare to utter certain names in my presence and I am beginning to think that I was mistaken in not doing the same to you. After all, I have no idea where you come from or who you are! All I know is what you have deigned to tell me—'
'Are you forgetting the queen's locket?'
'You might have stolen that. Come back with me now unless you would have me take you back by force. I—'
He broke off. For a moment or two, as he talked, he had been instinctively following with his eyes the movements of a small boat which had just rounded the headland on which he and Marianne were standing. She was running before the wind and her red sails struck a brilliant note against the grey sea. They could make out the shape of the man at the tiller and suddenly, born on a gust of wind, they heard his voice. He was singing gaily.
'… We saw an English frigate
Hard on our starboard bow,
A-sailing o'er the briny deep,
For to attack Bordeaux…'
The words of the song came to them with impudent clarity through the crystalline air. Behind her, Marianne heard an odd noise which she realized with a shock was Morvan grinding his teeth. The eyes that watched the small boat through the hole in his mask were those of a madman and Marianne felt a thrill of terror as they were turned on her.
'You hear? Will you still deny it? Where do you find your servants, Mademoiselle d'Asselnat? On the English hulks?'
'I still do not understand you!' she said with dignity.
'That song is known throughout the seven seas! It is the song of Robert Surcourf's men! And your so-called servant is one of them!'
'What nonsense! He has always served me faithfully!' Marianne spoke with such conviction that for a moment the other was shaken.
'It may be that you too have been deceived, but we shall know soon enough.'