‘You are lying.’
‘Madam!’
Her eyes were on him, sombre and intent.
‘You are lying. You say she was walking in her sleep. I have seen her walk like that, and so have you. Are you going to tell me that she took a torch in her hand to light her through a dream? But you say you saw her go down into the cellar and open the secret door. There are lights in the house, but what light is there in that dark place?’
He said on a stubborn note,
‘I had a torch.’
‘I tell you, you had not! You would not have dared to follow her with a torch in your hand – you would not have dared!’
‘Do you think I followed her in the dark?’
‘I do not! It was she who had the torch. And she was not walking in her sleep, she was awake, because it had come to her that Mr. Alan must be there. I did not think that she would ever dare to go into that place alone. She had gone once with me, and she came near to fainting with fright. I did not think she would ever go alone.’
He said with impatience,
‘What does it matter who had the torch? The rest is as I said.’
‘No.’
The word was like a blow and he exclaimed against it.
‘Is this a time to question and to quarrel? We have to know what we are to do, what we are to say.’
‘I must have the truth from you. My sister did not die as you have said. There was no hand there for her to touch – there were only bones. Do you ask me to believe that she would have touched dead bones? I tell you she would have fainted, or she would have screamed and run away. And she would have done nothing to set off the spring and let down the lid of the chest upon her head. I think she cried out and turned to run away. I think you tried to stop her, perhaps to reason with her, and she would not listen. I think you had to stop her because you could not stop her mouth. I think she died because you knew what she might tell.’
He cried out.
‘I never laid a hand on Mr. Alan!’
‘There was no need to lay a hand upon him. He snatched at the Treasure and it killed him, as it has killed before, and may again.’
His voice rose.
‘And who showed him the way to the Treasure? It was not Miss Cara! And who else knew the secret? Only you, madam – only you! You showed him how to open the door, and if the Treasure had not killed him he would have died down there as Miss Sayle was meant to die! No food, no water, and no way out – it would not have taken long!’
There was a silence. Miss Olivia broke it.
‘If you had not followed me that night you would have known nothing, and you could have done nothing. You have been a long time in my service. Not as long as Anna, but long enough. I think you killed my sister. How do you expect me to reward you for that?’
He stood staring at her. She went on in the same toneless voice.
‘If my plan had succeeded, I would have rewarded you and sent you away, but now – if Candida lives, there is nothing for either of us. She will have Underhill, and she will marry and have children to come after her. She should have been dead, but I think she is alive, and there is nothing more that I can do. So you shall have your reward for killing my sister.’
It was when Joseph cried out that he had never laid a hand on Alan Thompson that Inspector Rock came up quietly behind Miss Silver and Mr. Tampling. At Miss Olivia’s words he pushed past the end of the screen and strode into the room.
Chapter Forty-two
Candida lay on her bed and Stephen knelt beside her. Her hand clung to his. If she shut her eyes she might slip back into the dream again. He said, ‘I won’t let you,’ and she held his hand.
Anna came in with a tray, and she drank the most delicious draught she had ever tasted – hot milky tea to assuage her thirst and comfort her parched throat. Anna was crying. She tried not to, but the tears ran down. She took up one of Candida’s hands and kissed it, and went away back to the kitchen to boil an egg and make toast. When she was gone, Candida caught at Stephen’s arm.
‘Will you take me away from here? I can’t stay in this house. I don’t want to see it again – ever!’
He said,
‘You shan’t – I’ll see to that. Louisa Arnold will take you in. I’ll drive you out there as soon as you’ve had something to eat.’
She was sitting up now with his arm round her.
‘I’m all right – I’m quite strong – I only want to get away.’
She pressed against him and dropped her voice. ‘It was Alan Thompson – there in the passage – wasn’t it?’
He nodded.
‘I expect so. There’s a spring that brings the lid of the chest down if anyone touches the Treasure. He grabbed at it, and it killed him.’
‘How – horrible! But it wasn’t – murder – ’
He said slowly and doubtfully, ‘I – don’t – know – ’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t think anyone laid hands on him. But do you think Miss Olivia meant to let him live and marry her sister? How do you suppose he knew how to open that hidden door? We only found it by a lucky chance, and that’s not the sort of thing you would expect to happen twice.’
‘Aunt Cara might have shown him the way.’
‘If she had she would have warned him not to touch the treasure. There’s a rhyme about it, isn’t there -
‘ “Touch not nor take,
For dear life’s sake”?’
‘Yes – yes, there is.’
He said grimly,
‘I think Miss Olivia showed him the secret door, and I think she meant him to touch – and take what was coming to him.’
A shudder ran over her.
‘Let’s get away, Stephen – quickly, quickly!’
Louisa Arnold was most agreeably thrilled. Apart from the fact that she had an extremely kind heart, her house was to be enlivened by a love affair, the solution of a three-years-old mystery, and by a really shocking scandal. The love affair showed every sign of leading up to an early wedding, and since Stephen was certainly a cousin, and Candida an orphan, from what house could they more suitably be married? She had her mother’s wedding-veil laid away in lavender – and there could never have been a happier marriage than hers to dear Papa. As to the solution of the mystery, there seemed to be no doubt that the skeleton found in Underhill was that of poor Alan Thompson, and in regard to the scandal, there really never had been one of so resounding a nature. Was it possible that Miss Olivia Benevent was actually suspected of having murdered her sister?
There was a school of thought which answered this question in the affirmative but softened the conclusion by declaring Miss Olivia to be out of her mind. By others the part of first murderer was assigned to Joseph, and a good many people discovered that they had always thought there was something sinister about him. It having become known that Miss Silver had accompanied the police during their search of Underhill, Louisa Arnold found herself in the enviable position of being considered a positive Fount of Information. It was gratifying in the extreme, but she did feel that dear Maud might have given her a little more to come and go upon. Discretion was all very well, but who more reliable than one’s own cousin?
And to sum it all up, ‘Dear Papa always told me everything.’
At the news that the inquest had been adjourned, Miss Louisa restrained herself no longer.
‘Do you mean to tell me that nobody has been arrested?’
Miss Silver had embarked upon a jumper in a particularly pleasing shade of blue for her niece Ethel Burkett. About an inch of it stuck out from the needles like a frill. The wool was exceptionally soft, and she was trying a new pattern. She looked mildly at Louisa and said,
‘Joseph Rossi has been detained.’
‘Detained! And what’s the good of that, I should like to know! Do you mean to tell me that he didn’t murder poor Cara and then pretend she had been killed by falling down the stairs?’