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Part 17
When they arrived at Mr Searle's house, Liz was impressed. Mr Campbell had not exaggerated, the house was huge, and it was handsome. It could nearly be compared to Donwell Abbey, except that this house was new, while Donwell Abbey was already an old building.
Mr and Miss Searle were waiting for them at the entrance and welcomed them in a very sociable manner. Mr Searle complimented the ladies in his usual, half flirting way, which confirmed William in his not liking Mr Searle.
Who does that man think he is, I wonder?
He was too much of a gentleman to show his feelings, however, so he thanked Mr Searle for the invitation politely and even managed a few minutes of conversation with his host.
Miss Searle looked absolutely stunning in her dress; it was as costly and elegant as the one at the assembly had been. When Liz complimented her on her attire, Miss Searle blushed and said, "Do you really think so, Miss Martin? I did not know if I should wear it at first, it is rather old already and I was sure I had prettier dresses - but Mademoiselle said that they were all too elegant for a dinner party, she said they were more suitable as ball gowns."
Liz soon had the opportunity to meet Mlle Thierry, Miss Searle's governess. Mademoiselle was a lady in her mid-forties, who had undoubtedly been very beautiful and elegant in her youth. She spoke in a clear and distinct voice, with a slight hint of a French accent. Liz observed that nobody seemed to take much notice of Mademoiselle, a thought that bothered her. How could it be that an intelligent, ladylike woman was so little appreciated by her surroundings, just because she was the governess? The only governess she had ever known had been Miss Taylor, now Mrs Weston, and her employers had treated Miss Taylor like a friend. Mademoiselle, it seemed, was not so lucky.
Then Liz saw that Mr Price sat down next to Mademoiselle and started to converse with her, and she also saw how Mademoiselle Thierry's countenance brightened and how spirited her whole behaviour became. It seemed that he had known instinctively that Mademoiselle Thierry needed some attention...it was very much like Mr Price to see that, and it was very much like Mr Price to give Mademoiselle the attention she needed. Unfortunately, Miss Searle addressed Liz at that moment, and so she could not find out what Mr Price and Mlle Thierry were talking about.
"Miss Martin, will you do me the favour and play the pianoforte for us later, after dinner?"
Liz smiled. "If you do not mind hearing my rather second-rate playing, I will, Miss Searle. But I have heard that you are very accomplished, and I have to confess I was looking forward to hearing something from you as well."
Miss Searle beamed. "You will, Miss Martin, but believe me, I am not half as accomplished as everybody wants you to believe."
"Just let me be the judge, Miss Searle."
The next guests arrived; it was Mr and Mrs Adams and the Carricks. Liz perceived that Mr Price looked rather surprised at the sight of Mr Carrick, and somewhat annoyed, too, but only for a moment...then he became his old self again, and greeted the newcomers in his easy and friendly manner.
Miss Carrick now joined Liz and Miss Searle, and complimented Miss Searle on everything one could possibly think of. While Miss Searle and Miss Carrick were talking with each other, Liz was absorbed in her own thoughts.
What made Mr Price so angry when he saw Mr Carrick? Has he got a grudge against him? This is not very likely, as far as I know they are not even acquainted - well, at least not very well acquainted with each other. I am sure there must be some good reason.
"You seem to be so lost in thoughts lately, Miss Martin, one cannot help but wondering what these thoughts are," Mr Searle addressed Liz.
"Do you think so, Mr Searle? Believe me, my thoughts are not as interesting as you might think. I was just wondering why your sister does not seem to be too fond of her governess. I think she is an agreeable woman."
"I think so, too, but I think I know the reason why my sister does not like her. She is my sister's governess, that is why."
"Mr Searle, I do not claim to know what it is like to have a governess, but I am quite sure that it is not a rule to dislike one's governess. I remember that Miss Woodhouse, a young lady my sister-in-law was friends with, was exceedingly fond of hers."
"Then I suppose that Miss Woodhouse is of a different disposition than my sister, Miss Martin."
"I guess she is. You know I expected Mlle Thierry to be a bad-tempered old lady, from what your sister has told me about her? I was quite surprised that Mademoiselle is rather young, and not at all ill-tempered."
Mr Searle laughed. "Life is full of surprises, Miss Martin."
"You are laughing at me, Mr Searle?"
"Not at all, Miss Martin, I would never dare to."
"Of course you would not, Mr Searle, because if you would, I would have to punish you very severely. I wouldn't speak one word to you the whole evening."
"A severe punishment, indeed. I consider myself warned, Miss Martin, so you need not fear my laughing at you. But I hope I will be allowed to laugh with you, sometimes?"
Liz laughed. "Permission granted, Mr Searle."
William, in the meantime, had exchanged a meaningful look with his friend Campbell. Carrick was here with them, what did that mean? Was he not supposed to be on duty that night, after all the information that Campbell had given him? Had Campbell not met him? William decided to talk to Campbell as soon as possible. Something went wrong altogether...
Campbell, however, had already approached Mr Carrick and had asked him in a low voice, " I did not expect you to be here tonight, Carrick, after all I have told you the other day."
Carrick turned to Campbell with an arrogant smile and said, "Well, Campbell, I do not think I need the help of a former navy surgeon to know how to do my job. If you are interested, I have set some of my men on the smugglers, and I do not think I need to be there. I can trust my men - which is more than most Navy officers can say, at least as far as smuggling is concerned. Besides it looks as if there is a storm coming up, and I am quite sure that the smugglers, if there are any, will wait for a better opportunity."
Campbell made a short bow and left Carrick, without saying a thing. He was too angry to keep himself under control, so he decided it would be better to remain quiet and avoid Carrick for a while.
William had watched the whole scene, and even if he had not been able to understand what Carrick had said, he could see by his friend's reaction what it might have been.
I knew it! I knew he was not to be trusted! Well, it seems it is my turn now. If I could only be at the beach tonight...but what could I do there, all alone? I need help...and I am not going to get any from Carrick or his men.
William decided that he would write to a former school friend of his in Portsmouth, who was a customs official there. Perhaps he could be of assistance...
But I'll have to hurry up, my leave will soon be over. Let's only hope that the smugglers will try again in this short period of time.
Now Miss Searle asked all the guests to follow her to the dining room, and they were all seated around the dinner table. Liz was seated between Mr Price and young Mr Carrick, and had to divide her attention between those two gentlemen.
Mr Andrew Carrick was not very entertaining, but he believed himself to be so, a rather annoying combination. Liz listened to him politely and answered his questions as shortly as she could without seeming to be rude, but she did not really enjoy talking to him.
Sometimes Mr Price rescued her from being bored to death, and she was thankful for that.
"I saw that you were talking to Mademoiselle Thierry before, Mr Price. She seemed to be in excellent spirits."
William smiled. "Oh yes, she was. I just thought that she might need someone to talk to. Mademoiselle Thierry is a delightful lady, intelligent, and with a brilliant sense of humour. I wonder why nobody around here noticed that before."
"I noticed it, Mr Price, but I did not have the chance to talk with her much. What were you talking about?"
"She told me about her childhood and youth in France, Miss Martin. A very sad story...one hears too many of those stories nowadays."
"Mademoiselle is a refugee, then?"
William nodded. "I suppose she is from a very influential family ... her family used to be influential, at least. I do not think any one of us would have been worth her notice in her former situation."
"What made her become a governess then?"
"Circumstances, Miss Martin. Sometimes one has to decide between pride and starvation."
"Poor Mademoiselle Thierry. I think she bears it very well. I wish Miss Searle would appreciate her more."
Mr Price agreed. "Perhaps she will, one day."
Then Mr Andrew Carrick addressed Liz, and for the remainder of the dinner she was not able to keep up her conversation with Mr Price.
After dinner, the ladies went into the drawing room, and while Mrs Campbell, Mrs Adams, Mrs and Miss Carrick were talking about local gossip, Liz seated herself with Miss Searle and Mademoiselle Thierry. Liz was eager to find out some more about Mademoiselle. The things Mr Price had told her had raised her interest.
"How long have you been in England, Mademoiselle Thierry," she asked.
"For more than twenty years, Miss Martin," was the answer.
"Such a long time! Do you never long for your home?"
Mademoiselle smiled sadly. "Nearly every day, Miss Martin. England is so different."
"Different, Mademoiselle? In what way?"
"In many ways. The people...the food...but most of all I miss the climate. The weather can be so rough, sometimes, not as gentle as in France."
"In which part of France did you live, Mademoiselle?"
"My father had a château near Avignon, Miss Martin."
"I have never been there, Mademoiselle, but I guess it is charming. I wish I could go to places, one day, but I suppose Cranston will be about the farthest place I shall ever go to."
"One never knows, Miss Martin. I never thought I would go to England in my life."
And I am quite sure you did not go here because you wished to...poor Mademoiselle Thierry!
Then Liz looked at the pianoforte and a harp, and addressed Miss Searle.
"Do you play the harp, Miss Searle?"
"A bit, Miss Martin, but not very well, I am afraid. My mother used to be an outstanding harpist. She used to play such delightful airs - or so I am told, I never heard her, of course. Papa insisted on my learning to play it, too, but I never reached her excellence."
"Still I would wish to hear you playing it, Miss Searle. The harp is such a beautiful instrument."
Miss Searle hesitated for a moment, but then Mademoiselle gave her a cautioning look.
"Very well, Miss Martin, I shall play for you later in the evening. But promise me to play the pianoforte for us. I would so much like to hear you."
Liz smiled. "I will, Miss Searle."
Miss Searle got up and went to a French window. Liz followed her.
"You know, Miss Martin, if it were not so rude to leave my guests on their own, I would go out into the garden now. It is getting dark, and the moon is rising...look! What a wonderful time to go out...I could walk in the garden and think...this would be so delightful!"
Liz looked at Miss Searle. She seemed to be so...sad.
Miss Searle is a mystery to me, she thought. One time she is cheerful, and in the very next moment she is sad. Whatever the reason may be, I would like to find out.
Then she saw a lightning in the horizon.
"It seems there is a storm coming up, Miss Searle."
Miss Searle nodded. "Let us only hope that it does not come too soon, it would spoil a wonderful evening. It is so enjoyable to have guests here, not at all as boring as our evenings usually are." She cast a glance at Mademoiselle Thierry.
"All I am allowed to do is embroidery or reading...it is so dull sometimes. Oh, I forgot, if Mademoiselle is in a particularly good mood, I am even allowed to practise some music - these are the best moments of my life, I can tell you."
"I am sure Mademoiselle only means the best for you, Miss Searle."
"I guess so, and if she were more entertaining sometimes, I could even forgive her. Now, where are the gentlemen? They are taking their time tonight, are they not?"
Liz laughed. "Are you not content with our company, then?"
"I am very content with your company, Miss Martin. I am rather sorry that not all the ladies present are like you...but they are not, and I will have to put up with them as they are. Wish me luck, Miss Martin, I will have to go and talk to Mrs Campbell and Mrs Adams..."
She gave Liz a comical look, and Liz had to laugh despite of the impropriety of such a statement. After all, what could she do but agree - even if she could not say it aloud?
Miss Searle was, indeed, fun to be with...most of the time.
Part 18
Soon after Liz's conversation with Miss Searle, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room. Liz noticed that Mr Price seemed to be in rather low spirits, but she could not think of a reason why it should be so. Sometimes she wished she could read his mind - she felt that it would be worth while to be his friend, his confidante. As there was no way reading another person's thoughts, however, all Liz could think of was talking to him and cheering him up. When she got up from her seat to move in his direction, Miss Searle came back to her and asked her to play on the pianoforte for the party.
"Miss Carrick will play for us, too, and so will Mrs Campbell."
"That sounds interesting, Miss Searle, but what about you? You promised to play the harp for us, do you remember?"
Miss Searle blushed. "I am still not sure, Miss Martin...I do not think I am good enough to perform in company..."
"Miss Searle, believe me, no one will care too much. Oh, and by the way..." She gave Miss Searle an encouraging smile. "I am not a very good player either. If I do not mind playing for others, why should you?"
Miss Searle sighed. "You are absolutely determined to hear me, I see."
"Absolutely."
"Very well then, I shall play, too...but do not expect too much, Miss Martin."
"You can play after me, Miss Searle, and then everybody will praise your playing in comparison to mine." Liz grinned. "I am sure we will love your song."
Now they had to settle down, as Mrs Campbell was eager to begin with her song. She played Mozart - but too loud and too fast, with no feeling at all. Mrs Campbell was an excellent player, but in her eagerness to show off her skill, she destroyed everything that was beautiful in music. Her audience applauded Mrs Campbell politely, which was all that she had wanted, and Miss Carrick took possession of the pianoforte.
Even though Miss Carrick was not as skilled as Mrs Campbell had been, her performance was much more charming. She had natural taste and feeling, and she played very well.
Liz, in the meantime, decided that she would play a song she had often played and sung with her sister Catherine. She knew it by heart, and so there would be no risk of her exposing herself too much to Mrs Campbell's criticism (even though Liz was already quite sure that no matter how well she played, Mrs Campbell would find fault with it).
Miss Carrick finished her song, and now Liz placed herself at the piano and started to play and sing. Her song, as simple as it was, did not fail to have an effect on its listeners. When Liz was finished, applause and praise were readily given.
Now it was Miss Searle's turn, and Liz seated herself next to Mr Price. She was looking forward to discussing the music with him; she had noticed that he had listened with great interest.
He gave her a friendly, welcoming smile and told her how much he had enjoyed her singing. Liz blushed.
"I used to play this song with my sister, Mr Price, and you are only complimenting me on my singing because you have never heard her."
Mr Price protested and said that he had never heard better singing than hers and that he doubted if he might ever do so.
Then Miss Searle said, "Miss Martin has asked me to play the harp for her, and though I am not as gifted as the other ladies in this room are, I am going to do her the favour. The song I am going to sing may not be very difficult...it is a folk song, and the only reason why I am playing it is that I am quite confident that I will be able to play it without making a fool of myself."
She commenced her song, and Liz was listening to her, spellbound. It was a simple folk song, accompanied by harp playing, but the way Miss Searle was singing it gave meaning to the song...Liz suspected that she had chosen this song to express feelings which she was not allowed to show normally...
"I wish I were on yonder hill,
T'is there I'd sit and cry my fill.
Till every tear would turn a mill...", she sang in a crystal clear voice.
Liz cast a glance at Mr Price. He seemed to feel the same way she felt. He seemed to think, to concentrate...
Liz watched the rest of the party. Mr Searle looked a bit annoyed - probably he did not think this to be a suitable song for an evening party. Mrs Campbell and Mrs Adams exchanged disapproving looks, Mrs Campbell perhaps only because Miss Searle's performance was so superior to her own...
The last stanza and the feelings it expressed nearly broke Liz's heart.
"I wish, I wish, I wish in vain,
I wish I had my heart again,
And vainly think I'd not complain..."
Again, Liz was convinced that there was more about this choice of song than Miss Searle was willing to tell. Could it be that Miss Searle was secretly in love with someone?
Let me guess...who can it be? Mr Price is listening to her so intently...but then, if it is he, what can make her feel so sad? Mr Price gives her all the attention a woman can wish for. No, it cannot be Mr Price. It must not be Mr Price!
Meanwhile, Miss Searle had finished her song, and for a moment everyone was silent. The song had touched all of them deeply.
Then Mr Campbell started to applaud, hesitatingly at first, but then everyone joined in.
Liz turned to Mr Price. "You just said before that you did not think you would ever hear better singing than mine, Mr Price, and even though I did not agree with you, I did not think that the moment would come so soon. Miss Searle's singing is by far superior to mine, do you not think so too?"
"To be honest, Miss Martin, I do not think that Miss Searle's voice is better than yours. It is different, true, but not better."
Now Miss Searle joined them, and Liz congratulated her in a warm manner.
"I loved this song, Miss Searle! Where did you learn it?"
"When I was a child, my nursemaid used to sing it to me." Miss Searle smiled sadly.
Then her brother came up to her and said something to her in a low voice. Miss Searle nodded and turned to her guests. Her expression changed into the sort of cheerfulness that was too radiant to be true.
"Do you care for a game of cards?"
Of course, most of them did, except Mrs Adams and Mademoiselle. They took a seat next to the fireplace and started doing some needlework.
The rest of the party gathered around the card tables. Mr and Mrs Carrick, Mr Adams and Mrs Campbell wanted to play Whist, while Miss Searle suggested a game of Speculation "for the young people".
Liz was amused by the thought that Mr Campbell, though nearly fifteen years older than his wife, was among the "young" people of this party. She was not sure if she could join the game.
"I have never played Speculation before, I do not know the game," she said.
"Oh, that is no problem, Miss Martin," was Mr Price's reply. "If you want me to, I'll teach you. It is easy, and it's fun. Do join in, Miss Martin!"
So Liz decided to try the game, and Mr Price took his seat next to her to explain the rules of the game. He had been right - it was easy, and soon Liz enjoyed herself excessively. Mr Price was very attentive, and more than once he helped her and prevented her losing the game - once Liz observed that he was even cheating himself in order to let her win.
"Mr Price, this will not do!"
"I beg your pardon, Miss Martin, I do not know what you are talking about," he said with an innocent look.
"You know exactly what I am talking about, Mr Price. You should have won this game!"
"Oh, should I? You may be right, but it is so hard to concentrate sometimes..." He grinned, and his eyes had that mischievous sparkle again. "I'll just have to be more careful next time..."
"Mr Price, you have let me win!"
"You played very well, Miss Martin."
Liz shook her head. Why Mr Price had done that, was beyond her understanding. Mr Campbell, however, understood very well, and had to suppress a smile. He enjoyed watching his friend with Miss Martin, and he was sure that they would end up with each other, sooner or later. He would not mind the event taking place sooner...
Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder. The storm that had threatened all evening was finally breaking loose. The first thunder made Liz start. Mr Price looked at her.
"Are you afraid, Miss Martin?"
"No, it is just that I was not prepared for the thunder."
Everyone listened to the storm howling around the house. Liz wondered how they could get home in this weather.
We should have left earlier, she thought. It is too dangerous to venture outside now.
Then Mr Searle reassured his guests.
"I think the storm will be over soon, and if it is not - who cares? There is enough room in this house for all of us. You will just stay here for the night."
"This is out of the question, Mr Searle," Mr Campbell said. "We cannot trespass on your hospitality like that."
Mr Searle shook his head. "There is no need to be anxious, Mr Campbell. If I had not wanted you to be here, I would not have invited you. Whether you are staying here for an evening or overnight does not make a difference to me."
With these words, he rang for a servant and ordered that rooms should be prepared for his guests. Then he turned to Mr Campbell again.
"I leave the decision to you, Mr Campbell, but I want you to know that a room will be ready for you if you choose to stay."
Campbell thanked Mr Searle for his kind offer, but also expressed his hope that it might not be necessary to accept it.
"As soon as the storm has subsided a bit, we will leave."
Mrs Campbell opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by a fierce look from her husband. Liz was surprised - it seemed that Mr Campbell was very well able to make his wife keep quiet if he wanted to...if only he would do it more often.
The storm did not subside, on the contrary, it got worse and worse, and now even Mr Campbell had to admit that it was useless to wait for it to calm down.
He finally accepted Mr Searle's invitation. It would have been unreasonable and dangerous to start the journey back to Cranston.
The guests were shown into their rooms, and Mr and Miss Searle did their best to make them feel comfortable. Miss Searle even went as far as to offer the contents of her own wardrobe to her female guests.
So, by the end of the evening, Liz found herself in an elegant bedroom, clad in a night-dress that had probably cost more than her own evening dress. She slipped into her bed, wrapped herself up in her blankets and tried to get to sleep.
This was not easy. Even though the thunder and lightning had stopped, the gale was still raging outside and it was raining hard. The wind made strange, moaning noises that kept Liz awake. She got up and went to the window to look outside. It was pitch dark, but what was that? There were lights in the distance...Liz could not see them clearly, there were trees in the way. Surely one had a better view from the window at the end of the corridor? Liz decided to go and have a look and slipped into her dressing gown.
William, too, was unable to sleep. There were so many things he had to think about. Carrick's behaviour had been very suspicious - could it be that he sympathised with the smugglers, or even worked for them? One should not suspect without proof, though. If only he could get to the beach...how far was it? One mile? Two? He couldn't sleep anyway, and he had never minded the weather.
William resolved to get up, get dressed and to go out. Even if he could not go as far as the beach...
When William descended the stairs, he saw something at the end of the corridor - a white figure standing by the window. This made William curious. He went towards the figure, and on drawing nearer he realised who it was.
"Miss Martin," he whispered, touching her arm.
Miss Martin whirled around with a shriek, looking at him with big, frightened eyes.
"Mr Price," she gasped, "you gave me such a fright! You nearly killed me!"
"I am sorry, Miss Martin, I did not want to frighten you. But imagine my surprise when I saw you standing there."
She looked at him earnestly. "You are dressed for going out, Mr Price? You cannot be serious in doing that!"
"Why do you think so?"
"Just look outside, Mr Price! The weather is not fit for walking, and neither is the time of night."
"I do not mind either of them, Miss Martin. But what are you doing here?"
"I saw some lights on the hill over there when I looked out of my bedroom window, but I was not sure, and so I went here to see if I was right..."
"Lights? Where?" He went to the window and looked out. "You are right, there are lights, Miss Martin."
"But what does that mean, Mr Price? There is no lighthouse in these parts, as far as I know, and I do not believe in Miss Searle's ghost stories. So, what do those lights mean?"
"Mr Carrick said something about some of his men being set up on the beach..."
But these are signalling fires, or my name is not William Price any more!
"I do not think I know much about that matter, Mr Price, but is it not the profession of revenue officers to catch smugglers instead of warning them?"
William was surprised. Miss Martin had hit the nail on the head.
"Mr Price, will you promise me something?"
"That depends, Miss Martin, what do you want me to do?"
"Don't go out any more tonight, Mr Price." She looked at him anxiously. "Walking can be dangerous in this weather, at this time of night....one never knows what could happen..." She looked out of the window again to indicate what she really meant.
William gave a short laugh, more to calm Miss Martin than because he felt like it.
"You are not worried about me, are you, Miss Martin?"
She looked at him very seriously. "I am, Mr Price. Will you do me the favour and stay here?"
There was something pleading in her look. William could not resist.
"I will, Miss Martin, if it means that much to you."
"You are not saying this just to reassure me? Will you promise it, in the name of our friendship?"
William looked into her eyes and said, "Miss Martin, I promise I will not go out any more tonight. If I do, I give you leave never to talk to me again."
Miss Martin gave him a sweet smile that made him wish she might feel more than just friendship for him. He would do everything for her.
Besides, Miss Martin was right. It was a foolish idea to walk in that time of night.
"I am counting on you, Mr Price," she said. "And now I guess I will try to get some sleep. Good night, Mr Price."
"Good night, Miss Martin," William said and watched her until she disappeared in her room. Then he turned to the window and looked out once more. At least now his suspicions were confirmed, and now he could think of taking further action. But he could not do this all by himself - he needed help.
Part 19
The next morning, the party met again at the breakfast table. Liz was one of the first to enter the room; only Miss Searle was already there.
"Good morning, Miss Martin," she said cheerfully. "I hope you slept well."
"Thank you, very well, Miss Searle." Liz paused for a moment, and then she added, "Miss Searle, we have known each other for some time now, and considering the intimacy of our acquaintance, would you do me the honour of calling me by my first name? Call me Elizabeth."
Miss Searle beamed with happiness. "I will! Oh, I am so glad, Miss M....Elizabeth! My name is Emily. Will you call me Emily?"
Liz smiled and nodded.
"Elizabeth, would you do me the favour of walking with me in the afternoon? Richard will not be at home, he had to leave early in the morning because he had to go to Weymouth on business." She seemed to be uncomfortable. "I cannot stand being alone in an empty house - yes, I know, Mademoiselle and the servants are here, but that is just not the same. Miss....Elizabeth, there is something I want you to know...it is hard to find people one can trust, but somehow I know that I can trust you."
Liz was surprised, flattered...and curious. What would Emily want to tell her?
"Of course I will go for a walk with you, Emily. Will you call on me when you are going to leave?"
"Will three o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Three o'clock is fine with me."
Emily gave her a grateful smile, but did not say anything. They did not speak for a few minutes. There were voices in the corridor, and the Campbells and Mr Price entered the room.
They all bid them good morning, and Liz felt that Mr Price was looking at her with particular interest. She remembered the scene that had taken place the night before and blushed. Partly she felt ashamed for what she had said. Probably now he thought that she had more interest in him than she really had...that would be too bad, indeed! Their whole friendship would be at stake. If he thought that she was in love with him, he would probably think ill of her for showing it too clearly...oh, what was to be done? It was so confusing...
William saw that Miss Martin felt a bit uncomfortable, and did not say much to her. He addressed Miss Searle instead, to inquire after his host.
"I was hoping to meet your brother before our departure, Miss Searle. I wanted to thank him for his excellent hospitality."
"My brother is not at home, Mr Price. He has left early to attend to some business in Weymouth."
Business in Weymouth? Is he really in Weymouth or somewhere else? William, there is no proof. You are just determined to think ill of him; he has not done anything wrong.
"Oh, I am sorry to hear it, Miss Searle; I really wanted to meet him. Will you be so kind and relate my thanks to him, then?"
Miss Searle smiled. "I will, Mr Price, as soon as he comes back."
William turned to Miss Martin now, and said, "I hope Mrs Charles is not too uneasy because of your staying away all night."
"I hope so, too, Mr Price, but I think she knows that we could not undertake to go back to Cranston on account of the weather. Still I hope to get back as soon as possible, I know that she will wait for my arrival now."
"Why should Mrs Charles be uneasy, Miss Martin," Mrs Campbell exclaimed. "She cannot expect you to go home in such weather, and you were with respectable people after all. I do not think she has the least reason to worry about you."
"No, indeed, there is no reason at all," said Mr Campbell in a sarcastic voice. "Why should anyone be worried about their friends?"
The real meaning of this remark was completely lost on Mr Campbell, though; she did not get the hint.
Liz did not say much, Mrs Campbell's comment had made her angry and she felt that it was better to remain silent. The only comfort was the look that Mr Price gave her - it seemed as if he perfectly understood her, and she was glad that he was there to support her.
Mr Campbell was nice, but he could not start quarrelling with his wife on her account, could he?
Soon after breakfast, they set off in the direction of Cranston. Emily took leave of them all, and promised Liz once more to call on her in the afternoon.
The Campbells and Mr Price stopped at Mrs Charles's for a few minutes, and Mrs Charles listened eagerly to their description of the previous evening.
"It was delightful, Mrs Charles," Mrs Campbell said. "Even though I must say that Miss Searle could have been more polite."
Liz could not keep silent any more. "I think she did very well as a hostess, Mrs Campbell."
"Really? Putting herself forward as she did...."
Liz did not listen to more of Mrs Campbell's sermon, but gave Mr Price a significant look, while she had visions of Mrs Campbell being struck dead by a lightning...
Mr Price smiled at her and gave her a wink. Then he talked to Mrs Campbell to lead her away from the topic of Miss Searle.
Indeed, what would I be without him?
In the afternoon, Emily called on Elizabeth to go for their walk. Liz was already looking forward to it. Lately, she had enjoyed Emily's company very much and had also wished to advance their friendship.
They took the path to the ruined chapel. Emily seemed to be in deep thought, and sometimes Liz thought that she wanted to say something but did not know how to start.
So Liz tried to encourage her.
"Emily, you said you wanted to tell me something when you proposed our walk this morning. May I assume that you wanted to hear my opinion on a particular subject?"
Emily sighed. "It is not so easy...you are the only lady I know whom I can trust completely, and yet I do not want to..." She stopped and looked at Liz.
"I do not want to press you into telling me something that you would rather keep to yourself, Emily. Take your time and think of it."
Emily nodded, and they went on. Finally, they reached the ruin and sat down to take a rest.
"Elizabeth, did you ever wonder why I liked this place so much," she finally asked.
"I always thought it had to do with the beauty of this spot."
"Well, that is not the only reason...I'd like to open my heart to you, Elizabeth, but will you promise me not to tell anyone? Only my brother knows what I am going to tell you, and I am not sure if he approved of the idea of my confiding in you..."
Liz was shocked. "Emily, I would love to be of assistance in everything that is right and honourable, but I do not want you to deceive your brother."
"Elizabeth, believe me, no harm can be done in my telling you what I feel...I need to talk to someone, or I cannot bear it any longer..."
Tears were running down Emily's cheeks, and for a few minutes she was unable to speak.
Liz took out her handkerchief, gave it to Emily and said, "Very well then. Tell me what is troubling you. I promise I will keep your secret."
Emily calmed down a bit, dabbed her eyes with Liz's handkerchief, and said," I love this place so much because...because there are so many memories...pleasant memories...connected with this spot. This is all that's left of him..."
I was right! She is in love with someone! I knew it!
"May I ask who you are talking about, Emily? Why are you so depressed?"
"Because I will never see him again, Elizabeth," was the answer, and Emily's voice sounded so mournful that Liz was wondering what had happened. She just looked at Emily, waiting for her to say more.
"I have lost Charles forever."
Liz frowned. "Charles?"
"I forgot you were not acquainted with him, Elizabeth. I am talking of...of Charles Maynard, my fiancé."
Emily began to cry again, and all Liz could do was put her arm around Emily's shoulders and try to soothe her. Now Liz understood everything. Poor Emily! The mere thought of what she must have been going through made Liz shiver. But there was one thing she did not understand...
"You were engaged with Mr Maynard?"
"Yes, I was...he asked me to marry him on the day before he..." Again, Emily was overcome with grief.
Liz was deep in thought.
Emily was in love with Mr Maynard and they wanted to marry. Did her brother know?
"You said before that only your brother knows. So this engagement was secret?"
"No, it was not secret. Charles...Mr Maynard... talked to me on the morning before he died. He asked me to marry him, and I accepted him. He wanted to call on my brother immediately, but my brother was not at home, and so Charles said he would talk to him the next day. He was so...cheerful, he said that everything would be well now...He took his leave, and I never saw him again."
"But you went for a walk with me the day after this had happened, and you knew that he was dead...I mean, I noticed that you were sad, and that his death affected you in some way, but I would never have been able to tell how you felt for Mr Maynard."
"When I heard the news the next day, I fainted. I did not cry or anything, no... I just fainted, and when I came to my senses again, Richard was sitting next to my bed and asked me what the matter was. I asked him if it was really true, if Charles was really dead, and when he confirmed the truth of the news, I told him everything."
"What did he do? What did he say?"
"He did his best to comfort me, but he also told me to be careful and not to show my feelings too openly. He said that he believed me that we had been engaged, but the engagement had not been made public, and so my reputation would be ruined...so I just did my best to keep up appearances, but it is so hard...so hard... Sometimes I think that I am just breaking to pieces soon. I think of him every moment I have leisure to do so, and I dream of him every night. I think of what would be if he were still alive, and I wonder if I may ever be able to feel happy again. Whenever life is beautiful, something happens. Why can life be so cruel?"
Liz did not answer, mainly because there was no answer to such questions. Life was cruel sometimes, and it was unfair, and everybody had their fair share of misfortune at times ...but some people got even more than their fair share.
"Maybe you detest me now for not showing how much I miss him, for not showing that my heart is broken, but I cannot help it. I need to be busy, I need to have people around me or I will go mad. Do you understand that?"
Liz nodded. "I do, Emily."
Who would have thought something like this? She was at the assembly, at dinner parties, laughing, entertaining her guests, and cheerful all the time - nearly all the time. How could she do that?
"Emily, still I wonder how you managed to...conceal your feelings so well. I wouldn't be able to do that, to be sure."
Emily sighed. "Keeping up appearances is very important in my family, it has always been. Never show your real feelings, never let anyone know...don't give people the power to hurt you. Just be friendly and obliging, and smile. Nobody is to know what your feelings are.....this is how I was brought up. It is so good to talk to you, Elizabeth, and I believe I am a bit better now. I just wanted you to know, and I just wanted to have someone with whom I can talk about that matter...my brother, as helpful and friendly as he normally is, does not like to talk about it with me."
Why not? If such a thing had happened to me, Rob would try to help me, to be sure. He'd stay up all night to talk to me if I felt the need to do so.
He would certainly have sent for Mr Perry at first, and he would have thought of excuses to keep me out of company for a while. He wouldn't have wanted me to stay silent; he wouldn't have wanted me to suffer without the chance of getting help. He would have been there for me by all means.
Why is Mr Searle so cruel to his own sister? This does not fit in with the picture I had of him. What did he say yesterday evening? "The world is full of surprises..." How true, Mr Searle, I did not expect you to be that way.
As a consequence of the serious talk she had had with Emily Searle, Liz could not sleep that night. There were a few things that made her think. Something was wrong; there was a mystery behind that whole matter....
Let me see... Mr Maynard used to be friends with Mr Searle, or at least Emily says that he dined with him quite often. This must have been where he met her...now, Mr Searle is not stupid. Maybe he knew what his sister felt for Maynard and did not approve of it? This accident was very convenient, wasn't it? Stop this thought at once, Liz, you have no reason to suppose...all Mr Searle would have had to do would have been to refuse to give his consent. Emily is not of age yet, so they could not marry without her brother's consent. There is no need to...no, don't even think of it. No, Mr Searle is not capable of MURDER!
And still...there is something about that matter I do not quite like. If only...
If only I could ask Mr Campbell what really happened. Would he tell me the truth if I did? I don't know...probably not. He'd tell me what I have been told before. But why did he want an inquest to take place? There must have been one or two facts that made him suspect something... what was it?
No, I cannot ask him, he wouldn't tell me...but what about Mr Price? Mr Campbell trusts him, and if there was something that made him worry, he may have asked his friend for advice. They may have discussed the matter.
Lights on the hill...and a customs officer dying in an accident...smugglers? Mr Price was quite uneasy yesterday, and he can tell me whatever he wants, I do not believe that he "just wanted to go for a walk..." No, there was more to it, and I'll ask him what it was. Somehow I think that Mr Maynard's death was not as accidental as they want us to believe.
Part 19
The next morning, the party met again at the breakfast table. Liz was one of the first to enter the room; only Miss Searle was already there.
"Good morning, Miss Martin," she said cheerfully. "I hope you slept well."
"Thank you, very well, Miss Searle." Liz paused for a moment, and then she added, "Miss Searle, we have known each other for some time now, and considering the intimacy of our acquaintance, would you do me the honour of calling me by my first name? Call me Elizabeth."
Miss Searle beamed with happiness. "I will! Oh, I am so glad, Miss M....Elizabeth! My name is Emily. Will you call me Emily?"
Liz smiled and nodded.
"Elizabeth, would you do me the favour of walking with me in the afternoon? Richard will not be at home, he had to leave early in the morning because he had to go to Weymouth on business." She seemed to be uncomfortable. "I cannot stand being alone in an empty house - yes, I know, Mademoiselle and the servants are here, but that is just not the same. Miss....Elizabeth, there is something I want you to know...it is hard to find people one can trust, but somehow I know that I can trust you."
Liz was surprised, flattered...and curious. What would Emily want to tell her?
"Of course I will go for a walk with you, Emily. Will you call on me when you are going to leave?"
"Will three o'clock be convenient for you?"
"Three o'clock is fine with me."
Emily gave her a grateful smile, but did not say anything. They did not speak for a few minutes. There were voices in the corridor, and the Campbells and Mr Price entered the room.
They all bid them good morning, and Liz felt that Mr Price was looking at her with particular interest. She remembered the scene that had taken place the night before and blushed. Partly she felt ashamed for what she had said. Probably now he thought that she had more interest in him than she really had...that would be too bad, indeed! Their whole friendship would be at stake. If he thought that she was in love with him, he would probably think ill of her for showing it too clearly...oh, what was to be done? It was so confusing...
William saw that Miss Martin felt a bit uncomfortable, and did not say much to her. He addressed Miss Searle instead, to inquire after his host.
"I was hoping to meet your brother before our departure, Miss Searle. I wanted to thank him for his excellent hospitality."
"My brother is not at home, Mr Price. He has left early to attend to some business in Weymouth."
Business in Weymouth? Is he really in Weymouth or somewhere else? William, there is no proof. You are just determined to think ill of him; he has not done anything wrong.
"Oh, I am sorry to hear it, Miss Searle; I really wanted to meet him. Will you be so kind and relate my thanks to him, then?"
Miss Searle smiled. "I will, Mr Price, as soon as he comes back."
William turned to Miss Martin now, and said, "I hope Mrs Charles is not too uneasy because of your staying away all night."
"I hope so, too, Mr Price, but I think she knows that we could not undertake to go back to Cranston on account of the weather. Still I hope to get back as soon as possible, I know that she will wait for my arrival now."
"Why should Mrs Charles be uneasy, Miss Martin," Mrs Campbell exclaimed. "She cannot expect you to go home in such weather, and you were with respectable people after all. I do not think she has the least reason to worry about you."
"No, indeed, there is no reason at all," said Mr Campbell in a sarcastic voice. "Why should anyone be worried about their friends?"
The real meaning of this remark was completely lost on Mr Campbell, though; she did not get the hint.
Liz did not say much, Mrs Campbell's comment had made her angry and she felt that it was better to remain silent. The only comfort was the look that Mr Price gave her - it seemed as if he perfectly understood her, and she was glad that he was there to support her.
Mr Campbell was nice, but he could not start quarrelling with his wife on her account, could he?
Soon after breakfast, they set off in the direction of Cranston. Emily took leave of them all, and promised Liz once more to call on her in the afternoon.
The Campbells and Mr Price stopped at Mrs Charles's for a few minutes, and Mrs Charles listened eagerly to their description of the previous evening.
"It was delightful, Mrs Charles," Mrs Campbell said. "Even though I must say that Miss Searle could have been more polite."
Liz could not keep silent any more. "I think she did very well as a hostess, Mrs Campbell."
"Really? Putting herself forward as she did...."
Liz did not listen to more of Mrs Campbell's sermon, but gave Mr Price a significant look, while she had visions of Mrs Campbell being struck dead by a lightning...
Mr Price smiled at her and gave her a wink. Then he talked to Mrs Campbell to lead her away from the topic of Miss Searle.
Indeed, what would I be without him?
In the afternoon, Emily called on Elizabeth to go for their walk. Liz was already looking forward to it. Lately, she had enjoyed Emily's company very much and had also wished to advance their friendship.
They took the path to the ruined chapel. Emily seemed to be in deep thought, and sometimes Liz thought that she wanted to say something but did not know how to start.
So Liz tried to encourage her.
"Emily, you said you wanted to tell me something when you proposed our walk this morning. May I assume that you wanted to hear my opinion on a particular subject?"
Emily sighed. "It is not so easy...you are the only lady I know whom I can trust completely, and yet I do not want to..." She stopped and looked at Liz.
"I do not want to press you into telling me something that you would rather keep to yourself, Emily. Take your time and think of it."
Emily nodded, and they went on. Finally, they reached the ruin and sat down to take a rest.
"Elizabeth, did you ever wonder why I liked this place so much," she finally asked.
"I always thought it had to do with the beauty of this spot."
"Well, that is not the only reason...I'd like to open my heart to you, Elizabeth, but will you promise me not to tell anyone? Only my brother knows what I am going to tell you, and I am not sure if he approved of the idea of my confiding in you..."
Liz was shocked. "Emily, I would love to be of assistance in everything that is right and honourable, but I do not want you to deceive your brother."
"Elizabeth, believe me, no harm can be done in my telling you what I feel...I need to talk to someone, or I cannot bear it any longer..."
Tears were running down Emily's cheeks, and for a few minutes she was unable to speak.
Liz took out her handkerchief, gave it to Emily and said, "Very well then. Tell me what is troubling you. I promise I will keep your secret."
Emily calmed down a bit, dabbed her eyes with Liz's handkerchief, and said," I love this place so much because...because there are so many memories...pleasant memories...connected with this spot. This is all that's left of him..."
I was right! She is in love with someone! I knew it!
"May I ask who you are talking about, Emily? Why are you so depressed?"
"Because I will never see him again, Elizabeth," was the answer, and Emily's voice sounded so mournful that Liz was wondering what had happened. She just looked at Emily, waiting for her to say more.
"I have lost Charles forever."
Liz frowned. "Charles?"
"I forgot you were not acquainted with him, Elizabeth. I am talking of...of Charles Maynard, my fiancé."
Emily began to cry again, and all Liz could do was put her arm around Emily's shoulders and try to soothe her. Now Liz understood everything. Poor Emily! The mere thought of what she must have been going through made Liz shiver. But there was one thing she did not understand...
"You were engaged with Mr Maynard?"
"Yes, I was...he asked me to marry him on the day before he..." Again, Emily was overcome with grief.
Liz was deep in thought.
Emily was in love with Mr Maynard and they wanted to marry. Did her brother know?
"You said before that only your brother knows. So this engagement was secret?"
"No, it was not secret. Charles...Mr Maynard... talked to me on the morning before he died. He asked me to marry him, and I accepted him. He wanted to call on my brother immediately, but my brother was not at home, and so Charles said he would talk to him the next day. He was so...cheerful, he said that everything would be well now...He took his leave, and I never saw him again."
"But you went for a walk with me the day after this had happened, and you knew that he was dead...I mean, I noticed that you were sad, and that his death affected you in some way, but I would never have been able to tell how you felt for Mr Maynard."
"When I heard the news the next day, I fainted. I did not cry or anything, no... I just fainted, and when I came to my senses again, Richard was sitting next to my bed and asked me what the matter was. I asked him if it was really true, if Charles was really dead, and when he confirmed the truth of the news, I told him everything."
"What did he do? What did he say?"
"He did his best to comfort me, but he also told me to be careful and not to show my feelings too openly. He said that he believed me that we had been engaged, but the engagement had not been made public, and so my reputation would be ruined...so I just did my best to keep up appearances, but it is so hard...so hard... Sometimes I think that I am just breaking to pieces soon. I think of him every moment I have leisure to do so, and I dream of him every night. I think of what would be if he were still alive, and I wonder if I may ever be able to feel happy again. Whenever life is beautiful, something happens. Why can life be so cruel?"
Liz did not answer, mainly because there was no answer to such questions. Life was cruel sometimes, and it was unfair, and everybody had their fair share of misfortune at times ...but some people got even more than their fair share.
"Maybe you detest me now for not showing how much I miss him, for not showing that my heart is broken, but I cannot help it. I need to be busy, I need to have people around me or I will go mad. Do you understand that?"
Liz nodded. "I do, Emily."
Who would have thought something like this? She was at the assembly, at dinner parties, laughing, entertaining her guests, and cheerful all the time - nearly all the time. How could she do that?
"Emily, still I wonder how you managed to...conceal your feelings so well. I wouldn't be able to do that, to be sure."
Emily sighed. "Keeping up appearances is very important in my family, it has always been. Never show your real feelings, never let anyone know...don't give people the power to hurt you. Just be friendly and obliging, and smile. Nobody is to know what your feelings are.....this is how I was brought up. It is so good to talk to you, Elizabeth, and I believe I am a bit better now. I just wanted you to know, and I just wanted to have someone with whom I can talk about that matter...my brother, as helpful and friendly as he normally is, does not like to talk about it with me."
Why not? If such a thing had happened to me, Rob would try to help me, to be sure. He'd stay up all night to talk to me if I felt the need to do so.
He would certainly have sent for Mr Perry at first, and he would have thought of excuses to keep me out of company for a while. He wouldn't have wanted me to stay silent; he wouldn't have wanted me to suffer without the chance of getting help. He would have been there for me by all means.
Why is Mr Searle so cruel to his own sister? This does not fit in with the picture I had of him. What did he say yesterday evening? "The world is full of surprises..." How true, Mr Searle, I did not expect you to be that way.
As a consequence of the serious talk she had had with Emily Searle, Liz could not sleep that night. There were a few things that made her think. Something was wrong; there was a mystery behind that whole matter....
Let me see... Mr Maynard used to be friends with Mr Searle, or at least Emily says that he dined with him quite often. This must have been where he met her...now, Mr Searle is not stupid. Maybe he knew what his sister felt for Maynard and did not approve of it? This accident was very convenient, wasn't it? Stop this thought at once, Liz, you have no reason to suppose...all Mr Searle would have had to do would have been to refuse to give his consent. Emily is not of age yet, so they could not marry without her brother's consent. There is no need to...no, don't even think of it. No, Mr Searle is not capable of MURDER!
And still...there is something about that matter I do not quite like. If only...
If only I could ask Mr Campbell what really happened. Would he tell me the truth if I did? I don't know...probably not. He'd tell me what I have been told before. But why did he want an inquest to take place? There must have been one or two facts that made him suspect something... what was it?
No, I cannot ask him, he wouldn't tell me...but what about Mr Price? Mr Campbell trusts him, and if there was something that made him worry, he may have asked his friend for advice. They may have discussed the matter.
Lights on the hill...and a customs officer dying in an accident...smugglers? Mr Price was quite uneasy yesterday, and he can tell me whatever he wants, I do not believe that he "just wanted to go for a walk..." No, there was more to it, and I'll ask him what it was. Somehow I think that Mr Maynard's death was not as accidental as they want us to believe.
Part 20
The first thing William had done when he had got back to the Campbells' house had been to write a letter to his friend in Portsmouth.
Even if it was widely known that many customs officers hated the navy (the navy had often taken smugglers aboard their ships, smugglers were fine seamen after all, so why waste their talent?), Jim Reardon had always been friends with William Price. Now this friendship could be of use - Reardon could try to find out something about Carrick. Only, how could William formulate his letter without getting into trouble for interference, or - even worse - getting Reardon into trouble for helping him?
Finally, he started to write, posted his letter and hoped that the answer might reach him before he had to leave Cranston. He was running out of time...
The next day, Liz decided to sacrifice her peaceful morning to the purpose of visiting Mrs Campbell, in the hope of meeting Mr Price there. She did not yet know how to lead the conversation to the topic she wanted to talk about, but somehow she had to. She needed to know the circumstances of Mr Maynard's death...if Mr Price was able to confirm that it had been an accident, she would not enquire any more. Mr Price would not lie to her...he would not lie to anybody; he was much too honest to do that.
Mrs Charles wanted to go with her. She had decided that she did no longer want to confine herself to her house and to Liz's company, but that she wanted to have a dinner with her particular friends, the Campbells, the Searles, and the Adamses. It would be nothing fancy, just a dinner with friends. Liz was glad that Mrs Charles would go with her; this meant that she would be at leisure to talk with Mr Price - if he was there.
She was disappointed to hear that Mr Price had gone out with Mr Campbell to help him with a patient.
"As if my husband were not enough, now it seems that the people around here have taken a liking to Mr Price."
"I cannot blame them, Mrs Campbell," was Mrs Charles's answer. "He is an agreeable young man, just like your husband."
"Still I do not know what I have done to deserve this, to be left alone all the time," Mrs Campbell lamented.
I don't know either, Mrs Campbell. What have you done to deserve a perfectly amiable, gentleman-like, hardworking husband? Your sins must have been serious, indeed, Liz thought. I know people who would love to have your problems, if you took theirs...
Mrs Campbell's spirits were heightened by the prospect of the dinner, and she was most ready to support Mrs Charles with her advice. Mrs Charles bore it with remarkably good humour, but Liz felt angry again.
Mrs Charles has organised more dinner parties than you have ever attended in your life, Mrs Campbell, and she is an excellent hostess! If you only knew how insufferable you are!
Just as Liz gave up all hope of seeing Mr Price that day, both gentlemen entered the parlour.
They were pleased to see Liz and Mrs Charles, and were sorry for the fact that they had not been there earlier.
After some inquiries to Mr Campbell concerning his work, Liz turned to Mr Price.
"So you accompanied Mr Campbell today? Are you used to helping a surgeon with his work?"
"I sometimes had to, yes, and I think Campbell was quite content with me," Mr Price answered laughingly.
"Aye, you would be a better surgeon than many of my colleagues," was Mr Campbell's reply.
Liz laughed. "You are not serious, Mr Campbell. You cannot be serious."
"Very serious, Miss Martin. I have seen men calling themselves surgeons whom I would not even trust with my dog."
"But you would trust me with your dog, wouldn't you," said Mr Price, smiling.
"I certainly would. Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment - it seems my wife wants to know something."
With these words, Mr Campbell rose and went to his wife and Mrs Charles. Liz found herself alone with Mr Price and could hardly believe her luck.
"How long will you stay in Cranston, Mr Price?"
"I will have to leave by the end of next week, Miss Martin."
"Already? ... I mean, it seems but a short time since you came here."
"A visit like that always seems too short, Miss Martin. Being with friends, and meeting pleasant people.... I wish I could stay longer, but I cannot."
"Cranston will not be the same when you are not here any more.... I mean, you will be sorely missed."
I can hardly believe I said that! Oh, what will he think of me?
Mr Price smiled. "Thank you, Miss Martin; I did not expect such a compliment. But I am sure you will not miss me too much."
"I hope I will not...Mr Price, there is something I would like to know."
He gave her an interested look. "And that is?"
"Lately, I have thought very much about those lights we saw on the hill. I was wondering what it could be, and I have my own theory about that. Would you like to hear it?"
"Certainly, Miss Martin." He eagerly turned to her, so he could see her face.
"I thought it was rather strange that revenue officers should light a fire where everyone can see it...so I came to the conclusion that those lights might have been signalling fires, and that smugglers lit them, instead of customs men. What do you think, is that possible?"
She looked at him earnestly, expecting an answer.
He took a deep breath before he said anything, giving her a worried look.
"Miss Martin, I do not think you should worry yourself with such things."
"Am I right, Mr Price? You know, I did not quite believe you when you said that you just wanted fresh air the other night. I am not stupid; I am not that sort of woman who only has her head to stop the rain from falling into her neck. I can think, and I think it has to do with smuggling. And you wanted to go there to see what was happening, right?"
He sighed. "Miss Martin, it may very well have to do with smuggling, but..."
"I knew it!"
"Miss Martin, will you please let me finish?" He looked at her earnestly.
"Well, what were you going to say?"
"I wanted to say that you should keep out of that business. The risk is not worth the trouble, believe me. Smugglers are not the sort of people to be trifled with, do you understand?"
"I think I do, yes, I am not stupid, as I said before. May I assume then that Mr Maynard did trifle with the smugglers?"
Mr Price turned pale. So there was something about Mr Maynard's death....
"Was Mr Maynard murdered, Mr Price?"
"You ...you know very well ... that the verdict was accidental death, Miss Martin."
"I do, but accidents happen at the most suitable times, don't they? It seems that Mr Maynard's death was very convenient for some of the people here."
"Miss Martin, please...keep out of it. I would not want..." He stopped.
"You would not want what, Mr Price?"
"Miss Martin, as your friend I am exceedingly worried about you. I would not want anything dreadful to happen to you. I do not want you to get hurt, and if you meddle with things like that you might very easily get hurt."
"Like Mr Maynard?"
"Miss Martin!" He checked himself, and added in a lower voice. "You have found out many things by yourself, I will tell you as much. But I cannot tell you more, and I ask you ... I entreat you not to inquire any further. I shall not be at ease before you have promised me to stop your investigations. Will you?"
"Mr Price, I cannot promise such a thing."
"Please, Miss Martin, you do not know what you are doing."
Liz got angry. "I know very well what I am doing, Mr Price. All I am doing is trying to find out a few details, nothing more. I am not as foolish as to think that I could do a thing about smuggling - or murder. All I wanted to know was how Mr Maynard died, and as you were not able - or willing - to tell me, I will just have to go on."
"Miss Martin, if you go on like that you might end up like..." He stopped again, cursing himself for having said too much. His voice had sounded distressed.
"Like Mr Maynard." This was not a question, William noticed that. He had to give in.
"Like Mr Maynard, yes, and that is why I am worried about you, Miss Martin."
For a moment, Liz was not able to say a thing. Even though she had something like that, she had still had hope that her suspicions were not true...
"There is no need to be worried any more now, Mr Price. This is all I wanted to know."
Now Mr Campbell joined them again and wanted to know if they had had a pleasant talk meanwhile.
"Oh yes, Mr Campbell," Liz replied with a smile. "Though I could not persuade Mr Price to stay here in Cranston, that is. Aren't you going to miss him?"
While Liz talked with Mr Campbell, William remained unusually silent.
He was still shocked because of her questions. How did she know these things? Well, she was an intelligent woman, there had never been a doubt as to that - but still one needed more than just intellect to find out such things. One also needed information - where had she got that information? Was there something he did not know?
At the moment there were two men whom he suspected to have a reason for killing Maynard - one of them was Searle, the other one was Carrick. Somehow he knew that it had to do with the smuggling business, but he had no proof that either of those two men was in any way involved in smuggling.
Although - now that he thought of it - Mr Searle seemed to be VERY rich concerning his business.
He must have enormous profits in his business to be able to afford all the things he has got. One can gain huge profits by selling goods at the normal price, but without paying any taxes...come on, William, you just don't like him because he has everything you want to have ...including Miss Martin.
And Carrick had never tried to conceal his dislike for Maynard...on the contrary.
But the most important thing is - I must take care of Miss Martin. I hope she won't get herself into trouble, but it won't do any harm if I keep an eye on her. Just to make sure that nothing happens to her...I couldn't forgive myself if she were injured in any way. I couldn't live with that...
Part 21
Four days later, William received Jim Reardon's reply to his own letter, which he had been so waiting for.
Portsmouth, June ____________
Dear Friend,
I must admit I was quite surprised to hear from you, I did not know that you were in England at the moment.
Your letter has caused me much uneasiness and concern, and I have done my best to find out what you wanted to know.
Here is what I have found: There has been a Mr Neil Carrick in Bournemouth about fifteen years ago, and it seems that his undertakings there have caused scandal in more than one way.
I will not tell you anything about his private affairs, because they have nothing to do with your case, but I can tell you that this Mr Carrick was not at all respectable at that time.
A severe charge was brought on him concerning his duties. It seems that he has not only grossly neglected his duty, but has also received money from smugglers for "turning a blind eye" on certain occasions. Though this charge has never been proved, it has been sufficient to ruin his reputation in Bournemouth and to justify his being transferred to an inferior place like Cranston.
You see, your suspicion may be well founded - it could be that Mr Carrick is in some way involved in smuggling. If this can also give you sufficient reason for suspecting him of more serious crimes than taking bribing money or informing smugglers about actions the customs officials were planning against them, I cannot tell, but I hope it is not the case. Anyway, take care of yourself, William!
I have taken the liberty of informing the authorities in Weymouth and Portland, without mentioning your or your friend Campbell's name.
Let us hope that there are still some reliable fellows in my profession (except me, that is), and that they will keep a close watch on Carrick's doings.
You know, I ought to be angry with you for not visiting me while you were in Portsmouth, but I shall forgive you this time, knowing that you did not neglect me intentionally, and I hope you will make amends for it when you come into town next time. You owe me at least a drink or two for exerting myself the way I did.
For the present, I shall content myself with wishing you all the best for resolving that matter, as well as for your next cruise. Let me know as soon as you are in Portsmouth again!
Yours etc.
J. Reardon
William grinned. "I owe you more than just a drink or two, Jim, and you know that."
He read the letter again and again, and then went to Campbell to let him read it, too.
"Did I not tell you that I did not trust Carrick," he said.
Campbell read the letter, frowning. "Your friend says that there is no proof, Price."
"True, but would they really transfer a man if a charge was not in some way founded on fact? You know the way such things are dealt with normally - give him another chance, in another place. Let him show that he is respectable; let him start anew in a new place. Do not cause scandal if it is not really necessary - it might give a bad impression of the whole profession. Perhaps they thought that he would do well if he was removed from his former place? Who knows? One thing is for sure - if there were a man who is trustworthy, who does not join in with his dealings, would Carrick not do everything to dispose of him? He has a lot to lose..."
"You know that this is only speculation? No judge would ever seriously consider such a story, Price. If you accuse a man of murder, you need evidence."
"I know, Campbell, I know. There is no evidence...yet. But try to get my point. Imagine Maynard got into his way somehow, and Carrick wanted to get rid of him. What would he do? First, he would try to disgrace him, get him discharged - remember what he said when we met him at the inquest? He said that Maynard had often been drunk on duty, a serious accusation for an officer, if it is true. I guess he not only said it that day but may also have declared it before.
Then he notices that this does not work - that Maynard is unfaultable on this ground, and maybe Maynard is already on the right track - and Carrick panics.
Did you ever wonder why Maynard went to the Anchor unarmed? I thought of two possibilities - one, there was someone with him whom he trusted, and he did not suspect a thing. Two, his arms were taken away from him after he was attacked - but who took them? The only person that cannot be blamed for owning a customs officer's pistol is a customs man."
"You are determined to blame Carrick for the murder, I see."
"I am just naming possibilities, Campbell. Do not forget that this murder has never occurred - officially. The verdict at the inquest was accidental death - and Carrick was in the jury."
"There were other men in the jury as well, and they may have had reason to dislike Maynard, too. Come on Price, I told you to leave the matter. You cannot win."
"Perhaps I cannot win, Campbell, but at least I've tried."
They were interrupted by a servant knocking at the door, asking Mr Campbell to come, as there was a gentleman to consult him. Campbell gave his friend a worried look as he left.
"We will talk about this later, I promise. Just keep out of trouble, will you?"
William just nodded absentmindedly. When Campbell was gone, he read the letter once again. It made sense to him...but what did that mean, anyway? Could he not be mistaken by some prejudice here as well as he could be mistaken in Mr Searle?
If only I could do something, he thought, but he knew that, now that the Customs authorities had been informed, there was nothing more for him to do.
Just try to settle down and enjoy your last few days in Cranston. That dinner at Mrs Charles's tonight might be your last chance of meeting Miss Martin before you leave...at least your last chance of being with her for more than just five minutes.
This thought hurt him. He did not want to leave her behind, especially after she had told him about her suspicions. He was sure that she would not leave the matter be; she was not the sort of woman to do that. Miss Martin was courageous, and what was even worse, she was intelligent and curious.
Let's only hope that she will stop inquiring. But I do not think so...she looked worried, but definitely not frightened! If only she were a bit more like...other women, like Fanny, for example. I can always be sure that whenever Fanny promises to do something, she will keep her promise. I cannot be too sure about that with Miss Martin - she is too headstrong sometimes - but that is one of the reasons why I love her. Who wants a submissive wife? Campbell's wife is submissive, as long as he is around - and I would not want to be married with her for the world. Ah, Price, are you already thinking of marrying?
William was roused from his thoughts by a knock at the door. The servant, who had asked Mr Campbell to come before, was now here to ask him to join Mr Campbell and his patient. Expecting to be asked for assistance, William followed the servant and was shown into the study.
He found his friend Campbell in the company of a tall man in his late thirties. This man did not look as if he needed a surgeon's assistance, so William could not help wondering what the reason for this gentleman's visit might be. He was not left to wonder for long; Campbell introduced the man to him.
"Price, this gentleman here is Mr Barrie from Weymouth. He is a customs official there and has come here because he is investigating the cause of Mr Maynard's death. I think you will be able to be of assistance to him, won't you?"
"Why me, Campbell? I am sure that you will be able to give Mr Barrie all the particulars he might want to know."
"True, Mr Price," Mr Barrie answered William's question before Campbell could, "but still I would like to talk to you. Mr Campbell told me that you were present at the inquest as an observer, and I would like to hear your impartial opinion. From what Mr Campbell has told me, he seems to be convinced that the jury was misled by the witnesses. Was this your impression, too?"
"Sir, I was not at the inn when the incident happened, so I do not think I can accuse anyone of false testimony. All I know about the incident is what Mr Campbell told me, and from his point of view it seems as if the witnesses were either telling falsehoods or they were not aware of the true facts themselves."
Mr Barrie nodded. "I think it may be the former. What makes me wonder is how they managed to convince the jury."
"Well, as far as I can remember, there was not much effort to be taken in that respect. Many jury members were convinced that it had been an accident before the inquest even started, and though they listened to Campbell's testimony with patience, they were not disposed to believe him."
"Strange, is it not?"
"Sir?"
"Is it not strange that the jury do their duty in such a manner? Or rather - not do their duty?"
"I have seen stranger things happening, sir."
Mr Barrie sighed. "Mr Price, I see you are a cautious man, and I cannot blame you for it, but what would you say if I asked you to work together with me? I have a strong suspicion that this case has to do with smugglers, and your friend Campbell told me that this was very much the same as yours."
William did not quite understand why this man asked for his help.
"Mr Barrie, what do you want me to do? I shall leave Cranston in three days, so even if I agree to work with you, you will have to get along without my help after that. I cannot be of much use to you."
"I do not ask much of you, just to keep your eyes open and to send me a message as soon as there is any trace of smuggling to be found. We cannot trust in Carrick, or so I have been informed. I guess as soon as we have the smugglers, we will also know who murdered Charles Maynard."
"Mr Barrie, I can tell you one thing: if you want to catch the smugglers, keep a close watch on the beach, for that is where they are landing their contraband."
Mr Barrie nodded. "Of course, that is where they would do it ... and I wonder if Carrick ever was aware of that."
"He was," said Campbell. "I told him so myself."
"Interesting... did he do something about it when you told him so?"
"He said that he had set up some of his men there, but I cannot tell if he really did, Mr Barrie," was Campbell's reply.
There were a few minutes of silence, before William asked, "Mr Barrie, there is one thing that interests me. Why are you researching a case that has nothing to do with your duties? You are not responsible for the Cranston area, and as for Mr Maynard's death, the verdict was clear. Why do you doubt it?"
Mr Barrie sighed. "My principal interest is to discover the circumstances of Charles Maynard's death, Mr Price. He was my nephew, you see. I could not be here when the inquest took place, but naturally I wanted to know what the witnesses had said. I read the documents concerning the inquest, and there were a few things that I found dubious. That is why I want to find out what really happened, and as I cannot inquire officially without having a plausible reason for doing so, I research at my own risk."
"But your suspicion of Mr Carrick's untrustworthiness gives you a plausible reason to do some official research."
"True, Mr Price. Still I would rather not have him suspect anything before I can be sure. Just imagine what would happen if he found out - there would never be a way of finding evidence against him. This is why I need your help. No one will suspect you for being here, and knowing that you will be gone soon; people might be less guarded in your presence. I, on the contrary, am well known to Carrick, and therefore he would be warned at once, as soon as he knew that I was here."
William nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds sensible, Mr Barrie. I will try to help, as well as I can, but do not expect too much. And as I said before, I will have to leave Cranston in three days."
Mr Barrie smiled. "I do not think it will last more than two days until the smugglers will strike again, Mr Price. I have had a hint as to that. I will return here in two days, and I'll take some of my men with me. In the meantime, keep your eyes open, and if they want to trick me, send me notice. Will you do this for me?"
William reached out his hand. "I will, Mr Barrie."
Mr Barrie shook hands with William and Mr Campbell and took his leave.
After he had gone, William turned to Campbell and said, "What do you think of this matter, Campbell?"
"I don't know. I should be glad if the whole affair was cleared at last, and Mr Barrie is entitled to do that - he is Carrick's superior, and he is Maynard's uncle, too. I think we should support him as well as we can."
"We certainly should, Campbell. One thing makes me wonder, though. Who gave him a hint that the smugglers want to land contraband again?"
"I don't know, Price, and it is none of our business anyway."
"No, it isn't."
But what if it's a trap?