“Very well,” Hilda had promptly2 rejoined, “if you wish to hurt my brother’s feelings, not to mention mine, I can’t prevent you. Besides, you will spoil my holiday—”
“But, Hilda, I can’t be always taking—”
“You can have your revenge when the play is making your fortune.”
“I wonder if it will. . . . Anyway, I’m glad Mr. West is going to be reasonable, aren’t you?”
“Let’s go out and buy things for our holiday,” Hilda had said, rather hurriedly. “We have no time to waste to-day. It’s a nuisance, but I’m afraid I shall have to go to the office for an hour to-night, so that I may leave things in shape.”
“And I must finish that typing before I go to p. 219bed. Oh, Hilda, sometimes I can’t help feeling that it’s all a dream!”
“What—the typing?”
“All the wonderful things that have happened to me lately. Why, it’s not a month since that horrible time in Dunford. I only wish for one thing—to hear from Sam, the postman. I can’t understand his not writing.”
“Possibly, Mr. Hayward, who has gone to Scotland, my brother’s note tells me, will have news. I am wiring him to take tea with us at Newcastle to-morrow afternoon.”
“Oh!”
“And, naturally, I want to look my best! So come along to the shops at once! By the way, we have dinner early to-night—Matilda’s evening at the picture house.”
* * * * *
It was now shortly after eight. Hilda had not been long gone to the office, after promising3 to return by ten and wishing, secretly, that she had asked Matilda to postpone4 her outing. But her casual suggestion in that direction had been scoffed5 at by Kitty; and to have carried it further would only have made the girl uncomfortable.
Kitty was too absorbed to feel lonely. Under the shaded electric light she was making an effort p. 220to finish her typing before Hilda’s return. She was in the best of spirits that youth and health can supply, and she was looking forward eagerly to the morrow—and, perhaps, the morrow’s afternoon.
Nevertheless, she did start when a bell in the distance purred suddenly. “Silly!” she called herself the next moment. It was just the hour for the postman, and probably he had a packet that would not go into the letter-box. She went at once to the door.
A thick-set man of middle age, heavily moustached, but not unpleasantly featured, in dark tweeds and bowler6 hat, said—
“You are Miss Kitty Carstairs.”
“I have something to say to you, Miss Carstairs,” he proceeded in a quiet voice. “I think you ought to sit down to hear it.”
For some seconds the girl was incapable8 of speech and action. But her mind was working, and it perceived that she gained no advantage by remaining in the confined space of the little passage. In silence she led the way to the sitting-room9.
“Who are you and what do you want with p. 221me?” she managed to say, taking her stand with the table between them. She began to suspect that he was a messenger from Symington, but there was something “decent” about his face that reassured10 her.
His reply was certainly unexpected.
“I am a detective, and I hold a warrant for your arrest. I have to warn you that anything you may say now may be used against you later.”
Kitty went white, but it was with anger. “Who,” she demanded at last, “has dared to do such a thing? Who desires my arrest?”
“The warrant is issued at the instance of the Postmaster-General—”
“Ah! . . . I see! I suppose—”
“Miss Carstairs. I warn you again—”
“Does all this mean that I have got to go with you—now—to the police office?” To herself she was saying: “Don’t be a coward! You’ve nothing to be afraid of.”
“It is my duty to take you there,” the man answered, “and I hope you will not make it harder for me than you can help.”
His respectful tone stayed the sinking of her heart.
“Can’t I send a message to a friend?” she asked.
p. 222“You might leave a short note. I—I think,” he said almost nervously11, “I can allow you five minutes—not more—to write it and put a few things together.” He wiped his forehead, though the window was open and the room cool. “Of course,” he went on quickly, noticing her look of dismay, “you may not be detained long. No doubt your friends will arrange for bail12. But now—please—I must ask you to make haste.”
“Will you tell me—” she began.
“I can answer no more questions.”
Apparently13 there was nothing for it but to submit. She sat down, scribbled14 the brief note that we have seen, and rose.
“I am going to my room.”
He followed her as far as the outer door, where he mounted guard, as it were.
Within five minutes she rejoined him, dressed for out of doors, a small travelling bag in her hand.
“Let me get it over,” she said.
“You are a brave young lady,” he remarked. “Allow me.” He relieved her of the bag. “A very brave young lady.”
“I’ve done nothing to make me afraid.”
With his fingers on the door handle, he said—
“Will you give me your word to—to come with me quietly?”
p. 223Her head went up. “Of course!”
He opened the door and stood aside for her to pass out. Now there was no doubt about his nervousness; he was paler than she.
She went steadily15 before him down the narrow wooden stairway. On the landing he overtook her, and they continued their descent on the broader stone steps, passing business offices closed for the night.
At the entrance a plain-looking motor brougham was waiting.
“I hope you will remember, Miss Carstairs,” he whispered, “that I used no harshness.”
“I will—thank you. Have we far to go?”
“It’s a longish drive.”
As they crossed the pavement Kitty thought it strange that no one stared, then almost laughed at the stupidity of the notion. Why should any one stare? Truly the man was behaving very nicely.
He opened the door, followed her into the brougham, and closed it with a bang. The brougham immediately rolled away. The man took the narrow seat opposite, and she heard him draw a long breath.
She tried to baulk the returning fears. Anger p. 224at her uncle assisted her to some extent. He must have gone quite mad! And then a dreadful thought struck and almost stunned16 her spirits. Suppose something had happened to Sam! Suppose he were—dead! . . .
Time passed ere she recovered her wits and courage. Her aunt knew the truth, and Kitty could not believe that Rachel Corrie, even for her brother’s sake, would fall to perjury17. And there was Mr. Risk, and Hilda, and Mr. West, and—Colin! Oh, with such friends, why should she be afraid? No doubt she was in for a most disagreeable ordeal18; but it was bound to end in her complete triumph. . . . Well, she was having an adventure, and no mistake! Adventures!—how lightly she had uttered the word in the past to Colin! How gently he had treated her foolish talk! Her mind went back to that night in the little wood at Dunford, when she had let him kiss her. Then his prospects19 and hers had been simply blank. Now . . . but what had made her allow him to kiss her?
She came out of a long reflection. Indeed, the destination was evidently a far one! She had not noticed the course taken by the brougham—not that she could have recognized any streets other than one or two of the main west end p. 225thoroughfares. It seemed to her now that they must be somewhere in the suburbs.
He cleared his throat. “Still a bit to go,” he said, and gave a long, vague explanation, which she could not follow, as to police districts and other matters. “My work ends,” he concluded, “when I have handed you over to the—the chief inspector21.”
She thought of asking him what the chief inspector was like, and whether she would have to go to Scotland, but suddenly she felt too tired to talk. The reaction had come, and she lay back exhaustedly22, with the tears not far away. She was no longer in a hurry to reach the destination.
The man drew down the blinds. Soon the speed of the brougham was increased; it seemed to be travelling over a different sort of road. There were occasional ruts that suggested the country.
At the end of what seemed a very long, yet too short period, the man said—
“We are practically there now.” And under his breath he added: “Thank God!”
The brougham lurched round a corner; presently its pace slackened.
The man drew up the blind on the left, and, p. 226the moment the motion ceased, threw open the door and jumped out, laying her bag on the ground.
“Will you get out, please?” he said. His voice had become husky and fearful.
She obeyed and looked about her.
“But surely this is not—”
Speech failed as the man, with a whispered “Forgive,” sprang into the brougham, which immediately started.
“Oh, hell!” groaned23 the man, “to think I’ve lived to be driven to this for the sake of twenty pounds!”
Kitty found herself standing on the earthen foot-walk of a badly-lighted road, in front of an iron gate, open, with a shrub-bordered path leading to a large, dark house. That was all she had grasped when some one sprang upon her, a heavy shawl was thrown over her head and face, and—her senses failed.
* * * * *
She came to herself, lying on a couch in a large room with a low ceiling which, like the walls, had been whitewashed24 but lately, for there were dampish patches here and there. The floor was of stone flags, but its bareness was partly covered by Turkey rugs. There were no windows, unless p. 227one cared to give the name to a couple of oblong openings protected by gratings close to the roof. Two electric bulbs, which with their wires, had evidently been hurriedly installed, depended from the ceiling; an electric heater glowed in a niche25 in one of the walls. Across one of the corners a curtain had been hung on a wire, and being only partially26 drawn27, permitted a glimpse of a small white bed, a white dressing-table and a white wash-stand.
Near the centre of the room was a round table covered with a new cloth and decorated with two pairs of silver flower-vases containing carnations28. A middle-aged29 woman was engaged in putting the finishing touches to a meal consisting of a cold chicken, sliced ham, salad, bread and butter, and so forth30, also a small bottle of champagne31 and a syphon of lemonade.
Kitty sat up, but was still too dazed to notice the incongruities32. She saw only a woman’s back and the white walls.
“Have they put me in prison?” she asked faintly.
The woman turned a red, expressionless face, and answered—
“Maybe, Miss. But your supper’s ready. Kindly ring if you want anything.”
p. 228“I want to see the—the inspector,” said the girl, still groping in a mist.
“Yes, Miss. To-morrow, maybe. Your bed’s ready when you want it.”
She went out.
Kitty pressed her palms to her temples, and with eyes closed remained motionless for several minutes. Then, with a sigh, she took courage to look about her.
It was well that she had a healthy heart, for at the realization33 of her surroundings a weakly one must surely have stopped.
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1
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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4
postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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5
scoffed
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| 嘲笑，嘲弄( scoff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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7
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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8
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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9
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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10
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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11
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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12
bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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13
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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14
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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15
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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16
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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17
perjury
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| n.伪证；伪证罪 | |
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18
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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19
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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20
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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exhaustedly
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| adv.exhausted（精疲力竭的）的变形 | |
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23
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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niche
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| n.壁龛；合适的职务(环境、位置等) | |
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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28
carnations
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| n.麝香石竹，康乃馨( carnation的名词复数 ) | |
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29
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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30
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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31
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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32
incongruities
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| n.不协调( incongruity的名词复数 )；不一致；不适合；不协调的东西 | |
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33
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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