I felt desperately unhappy. My masquerade was over and so was everything that was worthwhile to me. I could hear the coldness in his voice. He despised me.
He had, of course, every reason to. But at least he was giving me a chance to escape.
He said: "Give me that ring you are wearing."
I stammered: "My father gave it to me."
"Give it to me," he went on sternly. "And your belt and your brooch."
With trembling fingers I drew them off and gave them to him.
"They will provide some evidence of your presence here in the burned-out barn, even though they won't find your body. Well, Jacob, what do you say?"
"I'll do as you say, sir. 'Tis true I had no intent to kill him. It just went off."
"I think he intended to kill you, Jacob, to silence you forever. Give me the pistol. It comes from the castle. I'll take it back." He turned to me. "What are you waiting for? Count yourself fortunate. It's time you were off."
I moved away. He called after me: "You know what to do. It's imperative not to make a mistake. Get out ... unseen if you possibly can ... and don't forget, take the six o'clock train to London."
I stumbled out as though in a daze. I took his horse and rode back to the castle.
No one saw me as I went to my room. Janet was there, looking very agitated.
"I sent him off after you," she said. "I showed him Jacob's note and told him who you were."
"Oh, Janet," I said, "it's the end. I'm going away ... tonight."
"Tonight!" she cried.
"Yes. You'll hear what happened. Garth is dead. But it's all going to seem different from what it actually was. And I'm to go right away ... away from you all, Janet."
"I'm coming with you."
"No, you can't. It wouldn't work if you did. I've got to disappear and people have to think I was burned to death in the barn with Garth."
"I don't understand all this," said Janet.
"You will... and you'll know the truth. It's the end. It has to be the end. I must obey him. He said I was not to delay but to get away quickly. I must go. I must take what money I can. I'm going to London. I have to make a new life for myself."
Janet ran out of the room while I collected what money I could. It was not a great deal but with care it would last a few months. Janet came back with a bag full of sovereigns and a cameo brooch.
"Take them," she said. "And let me know what happens. Write to me. Promise. No ... swear. Always let me know where you are. The brooch was given to me by Anabel. It'll fetch a nice little bit."
"I can't take this, Janet."
"You can and I'll be mortally offended if you don't. Take it ... and let me know where you are ... always."
"I will, Janet."
"That's a solemn vow."
She put her arms round me and we clung together for a few moments. It was the first time I had ever seen Janet show great emotion.
Then I left the castle. I went to that spot where I had tethered Malcolm's horse. I stopped only for a moment to look back at the castle shimmering ghostlike in the moonlight.
As I turned and rode away I saw a conflagration on the other side of the woods. I could smell the acrid burning and I knew that the barn was now on fire. It was destroying the evidence of what had happened that night. Garth was dead; Susannah was dead. The masquerade was over.
After the Masquerade
Three months have passed.
I suppose I am not unfortunate. Mrs. Christopher is good to me. I arise every morning at six-thirty, make her tea, take it in to her, draw the blinds and ask if she has had a good night. Then I have my breakfast, which is brought to me by one of the maids, a little grudgingly, for she does not see why she should be asked to wait on the companion. Then I help Mrs. Christopher with her toilet. She is crippled with rheumatism and finds walking painful. After that I take her out for her morning ride in her Bath chair. I walk along the promenade, for we are in Bournemouth, and she stops and chats with acquaintances while I stand by and sometimes get a bleak good morning addressed to me.
Then I take her back. And in the afternoon while she rests, I exercise the pekinese, who is a bad-tempered creature and about as fond of me as I am of him, which means there is a state of armed neutrality between us which could break into open warfare at any moment. I go to the lending library and choose books—romantic tales of love and passion—which please Mrs. Christopher. These in due course I read to her.
So the days drift by.
Mrs. Christopher is a kindly woman who tries to make life easy for those about her; and I appreciate this, having spent three weeks in the employ of a rich dowager in Belgrave Square. I was what she called her "social secretary," which consisted of a variety of tasks, all of which were expected to be performed with the utmost speed and efficiency all at once. I think I might have endured the work but what I could not stand was the dowager's imperious temper. So I resigned and by great good luck found Mrs. Christopher.
I passed from humiliation to boredom; and I think that the latter was more bearable because I had experienced the former.
I kept my promise and write regularly to Janet. I gave her details of the dowager and Mrs. Christopher and I am sure she was shocked that such a fate should have befallen one of the Mate-lands, even if born on the wrong side of the blanket.
I heard from her what had happened.
It was presumed that Garth and Susannah had gone to the barn for some purpose and had taken a lantern with them. The lantern had overturned and set fire to the dry hay, which had gone up in flames in no time. They had been unable to get out of the barn and had been burned to death. Remains of Garth's body had been found and, although there was no trace of Susannah's, some of her jewelry and a belt she was known to have been wearing that day were identified.
Malcolm had taken over the castle. Cringles' farm was beginning to look as it had in the old days before Saul's death. Leah had her baby—a boy. She had been really upset by the death of Susannah.
That was all the news there was of the castle.
As for myself, I should be grateful that I got off so lightly. All I have to do now is to carry on with the life I'm leading and as time passes that reckless masquerade of mine will recede farther into the past.
As I walked the promenade with the pekinese snapping at my heels, as I brooded over the books in the library, I thought a good deal of Malcolm.
Of course he had been disgusted by my deceit. I was aware of that in the barn. Yet he had rescued me. He had saved Jacob Cringle from unpleasantness, for even though he was innocent of murder he would have had difficulty in proving it. And what could have happened to me? Suppose Garth had killed Jacob, I should have been in a very dangerous position. I could have been implicated in murder. I felt cold with fear when I thought of it It might well have been that I should have been accused. There could certainly have been a strong reason for my wanting to be rid of Jacob. What would Garth have done and said then? He had been completely unscrupulous, I knew. Would he have slipped away and left me to stand accused? But I had been saved ... saved by Malcolm. He had made it possible for the Susannah I had created to die, leaving me, Suewellyn, to go free and pursue my life.
I try not to think of him, but that is impossible. He is always in my thoughts. Sometimes when I am reading I will be saying the words without thinking of their meaning because my thoughts are at the castle in those days, now seeming so far away, when Malcolm and I rode out together and talked so earnestly of castle matters.
How I long to be there again! I want to ride under the gatehouse, to look at those gray impregnable walls, to feel the glow of pride in the home of my ancestors.