Beginning, Previouus Section, Section IV, Next Section
Part 23
When the ladies were together in the drawing room after dinner, Liz sat with Emily and told her about the letter she had had today.
"Oh, how wonderful this will be, Elizabeth," Emily exclaimed. "I am already impatient to meet your sister! If she is only half as nice as you are, I will love her, to be sure."
Liz had to smile at such enthusiasm. "I am certain she will like you, too, Emily. You have a lot in common, you must know."
"Do we really? What do we have in common, Elizabeth?"
"For example, my sister is very fond of music, and so are you. She is a calm sort of person, calm and reassuring, and very caring."
"I cannot wait to meet her. By your description, she must be the loveliest creature in the world!"
Liz laughed. "Do not forget that I am biased, Emily. She is my sister."
"Oh, that doesn't mean much, does it? I mean, people can also dislike their sisters!"
"I think everybody likes to have brothers and sisters."
"Well, perhaps." Even though Emily laughed, Liz had the impression that she was more serious than she wanted Liz to realise.
To lead her away from the topic, Liz said, "Emily, I told Mrs Charles about the lovely song you played to us the other day, and she is very curious to hear it. Would you do her the favour and sing it for her?"
"Of course, but - there is no harp here, so how am I to accompany the song?"
"I will accompany you, if you want me to. I'll play it on the pianoforte, and you'll sing. I'll make an utter fool of myself, but never mind." Liz laughed.
"You would really do that? You'd accompany me on the piano?"
"I do not think it is that difficult, is it? It's a folk song, so I'll just use a very simple style of playing."
"Shall we practise it?"
"Certainly," said Liz, got up and headed for the pianoforte. Emily followed her, and the next half hour was spent in practising Emily's song. Emily also taught Liz the words of the song, including some Gaelic lines.
"My nursemaid used to sing it in Gaelic sometimes, you know. She was my mother's nursemaid before she was mine, and followed her to England when she married my father."
"Your mother was Irish?"
"Yes, she was from Cork. I do not know how my parents contrived to meet, but somehow they must have..." For a moment, there was a sad look in her eyes, but then she proceeded more cheerfully. "Well, I always liked the song, and Jennie used to sing it very often - and soon I was able to sing along with her. The harp accompaniment was my own creation - I just tried until I was able to play along with my singing. Jennie used to like it."
"Is Jennie still with you?"
"No, she got married a few years ago, and now she lives in Chickerell. I see her sometimes, but not very often. My brother says I should not bother her, he says she has her own family now, and I guess he is right." Emily laughed. "There is another song Jennie has taught me. Do you want to hear it?"
"I am all ears, Emily."
Emily started to sing, in a soft voice. Liz shivered. This song seemed as if it had been written for Emily Searle...
" I once had a true love and I loved him so well,
I loved him far better than my tongue can tell,
His parents disliked me for my want of years,
So adieu to all pleasure since I lost my dear. "
"Emily! This song is wonderful, but it's so depressing!"
Emily gave her one of her sad smiles and said, "Who says that love is always pleasant? Do you want to hear the rest of the song?"
Liz nodded, and Emily went on.
"What are you doing over there, Elizabeth," Mrs Charles asked, having overheard parts of Emily's song.
"Emily is just singing a song to me, Mrs Charles."
"Why does she not sing it to us all, then?"
Emily smiled. "Certainly, Mrs Charles, if you care to hear it..."
"I do want to hear it, Miss Searle."
So Emily started her song for a second time, and added one more stanza to it.
"Oh if I was an eagle and had two wings to fly,
I would fly to my love's castle and it's there I would lie,
on a bed of green ivy l would lay myself down,
With my two folded wings I would my love surround."
"Wonderful, Miss Searle," Mrs Charles exclaimed when she had finished. Now Liz proposed that Emily would like to sing the other song Mrs Charles had been so eager to hear.
After that, Mrs Charles complimented Emily on her singing and added, "But now I would like to hear something more cheerful. As beautiful as your song has been, Miss Searle, I need to be cheered up sometimes."
"Everybody needs to, Mrs Charles," was Emily's answer, and Liz started to play again to oblige Mrs Charles.
"You are playing so well, Elizabeth," Emily said to her after she had finished her song.
"Just wait until you hear Cathy, Emily," was Liz's reply. "I cannot be content with myself, knowing what her playing is like. I was too lazy to practise when I was a girl, and so Cathy is a few years of practice ahead of me."
The gentlemen came into the drawing room, and Emily addressed her brother at once.
"Richard, what am I to do? Elizabeth will not accept any of my compliments - what am I doing wrong?"
"I do not know, Emily, but perhaps Miss Martin is too modest to enjoy praise."
"Emily, Mr Searle, believe me, I am as inclined to accept a compliment as anybody else - as long as it is reasonable."
"Still I cannot believe that you were lazy, Elizabeth. Richard, she said that she was too lazy to practise the pianoforte. Would you have noticed?"
"Certainly not. Your playing has always been delightful, without a doubt, Miss Martin."
Liz laughed. "You are determined to praise me more than I deserve, I see. In that case I will have to leave you, or I will have to blush too often."
With these words, she went over to Mrs Charles to help her with serving the coffee, glad to have an excuse to leave Mr Searle behind. She could not understand why she had liked him so much once. True, he was charming, but it seemed as if this was just his facade. Who knew what he was like if he did not take pains to make a good impression?
William had watched Miss Martin from the moment he had entered the house that evening. She had been just as pleasant with him as always, had talked to him like an old friend, and had given him the impression that she cared a great deal about him. The only question was if she cared for him as a friend - or if there was more feeling on her side.
William had never been a coward, but in this matter he felt that his courage had left him. He did not dare talk to her, to confess his feelings, simply because he was afraid of her answer. He would never be able to get over it if she refused him...
There was one more thing he worried about. Just in case Miss Martin did accept him - would he be able to offer her the home she was used to? From what she had told him about her family, he knew that the Martins were by no means poor - Miss Martin had never had to give up a wish just because her family could not afford it. Compared with the Prices, the Martins were rich. He did not want her to suffer from want of anything.
No, perhaps it was better for her if he just left Cranston without letting her know, without distressing her.
There is no harm done yet, I think...at least not much. She will recover, to be sure. Perhaps she will find someone else soon...she certainly will, pretty and lively as she is...
William tried to think of something else. The thought of Miss Martin marrying someone else hurt him too much. But what was he to do? There was only one way to prevent this, and that was telling her how he felt. Even then, she could refuse him, and he could not face that possibility. He'd rather not ask at all.
He was roused from his thoughts when Miss Martin addressed him.
"You look so gloomy, Mr Price...are you not enjoying yourself?"
"Oh, I am enjoying myself, Miss Martin."
"Of course, you just looked like someone who was having a good time," she said ironically.
He laughed, but it was not his usual laugh. It was different - not as unaffected.
"Miss Martin, you once wished to be able to read my mind, didn't you?"
"Looking at you now makes me wish so even more, Mr Price. I would really like to know what is going on in that head of yours."
"You will not believe it, Miss Martin, but sometimes I believe you do know it..."
"Not really, Mr Price. I think I can make a lucky guess sometimes, but that is it. At the moment I am quite at my wits' end. What can make you feel so depressed, in pleasant company, on an evening like this?"
He just looked at her, and for a moment he longed to tell her...but only for a moment, then he said, "Believe me, Miss Martin, there was nothing. It was just a thought - but it is over now."
Miss Martin gave him a searching look, and said, "I hope it is not the leaving of Cranston that grieves you so much, Mr Price. I am sure your friend Mr Campbell will welcome you at any time you want to pay him a visit."
"No, it is not the leaving of Cranston, Miss Martin." It's leaving you behind...
"As your friend, Mr Price, I feel responsible for you, in a way. What can I do to cheer you up?"
He laughed, and this time his laughter sounded real. "You have already cheered me up by being here, Miss Martin."
Liz blushed. What did he mean with that?
"You know, Miss Martin," he went on, "you have the fortunate talent of being a bright light in everybody's life."
"Thank you, Mr Price, but I think this works both ways. I do not think I can be a light in anybody's life if I don't...think it worth while."
She had actually wanted to say, "if I don't care for them", but she had checked herself in the last moment. What was wrong with her? She was not likely to blunder like that, normally.
"Is there no way you can delay your departure, Mr Price," she asked, looking at him pleadingly.
He sighed. "I wish I could, Miss Martin, but I am already leaving rather late. I'll have to hurry up to be in Plymouth in time."
"Will you...will you visit us once more before you leave, Mr Price? I am sure ... Mrs Charles will want to see you once again. We are not likely to be here any more when you come back to Cranston next time."
"I will not get the opportunity to repeat that visit soon. Next time I get back to England I will have to spend some time with my family. My sisters Fanny and Susan have not seen me for ages, and I do not want to disappoint them again. Fanny had hoped to see me this time, but I had already promised Campbell to visit him, so I had to defer the visit in Northamptonshire until next time."
"Your sisters will already look forward to seeing you, Mr Price."
"Probably, Miss Martin. I do not know. Fanny writes quite often, in fact she is the most reliable correspondent I have got, she has always been. It is not the same as being with her, but it is the next best thing, and it is always good to have a letter to look forward to. What about you, Miss Martin? When are you going back to Surrey?"
"I am not quite sure, but I think we will leave Cranston in October, at the latest." She smiled. "As much as I enjoy being here, I will be glad to meet my family again, my mother and brother, and Harriet."
Mr Campbell joined them, to tell William that Mrs Campbell wished to go home now. William rose.
"Have an enjoyable evening, Miss Martin, and a pleasant stay in Cranston."
"This sounds as if we are not going to meet any more before you leave, Mr Price. You are not going to do this to ... Mrs Charles ... and me?"
Her look was anxious.
"I will call on you before I leave, Miss Martin. I was saying this just in case we will not meet any more."
"I shall depend on seeing you once again, Mr Price." He took a short bow, and then Liz turned to Mr and Mrs Campbell to take leave of them.
This last evening with Mr Price had gone by too fast...
Part 24
William had a lot to think about that evening. It was not only the conversation he had had with Miss Martin - he was sure about his own feelings for her, and even flattered himself that his affection was somewhat returned, the only problem was that he was not sure if he should make her an offer before he left - one of the reasons for his uncertainty was his financial situation, and the other one was that he was afraid of a negative response.
No, this was not the only thing that troubled him, although it did trouble him a great deal.
The other problem was that he had - at last - become aware of whom he had overheard the other night at the assembly, and he could still hardly believe it.
One of the gentlemen had been Searle - William had finally realised it when he had heard Searle talking with Mr Adams. Searle's taking part in that matter had not surprised him - he had long suspected him. But the identity of the other gentleman had given him a nasty shock at first. The other gentleman, the one who had pointed out the necessity of Maynard's death, had been no other man than Mr Adams, the vicar.
Not even in his worst nightmares William would have suspected Adams of any involvement in the smuggling business in Cranston, but there was no doubt - William had overheard a conversation between these two gentlemen.
It seemed that Searle had felt something like remorse for Maynard's death, but Adams had not. His way of expressing himself had been absolutely clear.
Well, so far I know that Adams and Searle had a conversation at the ball concerning the smuggling and Maynard's death, although Adams was clever enough never to mention the murder, or the smuggling. He just talked about "customers", and "coming along next week". One can't deny that Adams is a clever fellow - that makes him dangerous. Stupid people are easier to handle. One can always take their stupidity into account.
Adams cannot be the murderer though - he was with us on the very evening when Maynard was killed. Someone else must have done it...
Searle seems to feel sorry for what has happened. Not that this is of use to anybody, but he doesn't seem to approve of such brutal methods. Let me see...Carrick? What about Carrick? He must have had a part in that business, I am sure about that.
Finally he came to the conclusion that all three of them must have been involved.
Adams is the one who does the planning, the organising...Searle is the one who sells the contraband, quite inconspicuously, in his warehouses in Weymouth. And Carrick ... well, Carrick is the one who does the dirty work - who keeps people under control, and who keeps the revenue off their track. They are a good team, and everything worked very well until Maynard may have found out about it - and told the wrong people about it. He may have suspected Carrick, or Searle, but would he have suspected Adams?
William shivered. He remembered what Isaac Peyton had said to him in Lyme. "Gang leaders don't always look like gang leaders...be careful who you're talking to..."
Well, Campbell had told Carrick about his suspicions concerning the beach - it could very well be that Campbell was in imminent danger, and whose fault was it? William's...
William decided to lose no more time. He sat down at his desk and wrote a letter to Mr Barrie, determined to post it early in the morning. He needed Barrie's help just as much as Barrie needed him - perhaps even more, because Barrie had people he could trust, and William had no one, except Campbell.
He wanted to resolve this matter before he had to leave. He could not leave Campbell all alone in such a place - his life was not worth a penny any more as long as Carrick and Adams were still at their work. Not to forget Miss Martin - she knew about the murder, and what if she found out more? She was friends with Miss Searle - and who knew what she felt for Mr Searle? One word to the wrong person and...
"And whose fault is it," he muttered to himself. "It's all yours. You couldn't just hold your tongue, could you?"
Liz, meanwhile, wondered why Mr Price had been so depressed that evening. He had been so cheerful and charming at the beginning of the evening, but then he had changed. Mr Price was not moody normally, Liz knew that. Something must have bothered him, but what?
He had looked so conscious when she had asked him if the leaving of Cranston grieved him...she must have got pretty near to the truth. Was there someone special he did not want to leave?
Her heart missed a beat...what if it was she, Elizabeth Martin? No, this was not possible. If there was someone, it was probably Emily...poor Mr Price, Emily would not even miss him...
You have the fortunate talent of being a bright light in everybody's life....
Liz could not get this sentence out of her head. What had Mr Price meant? It was a compliment, to be sure, but what had caused him to say it? She had been able to cheer him up a bit, but it was not her aim to amuse him...to be regarded as a pleasant pastime.
No, she wanted him to love her...but then, if he had loved her, would he not have found an opportunity to speak to her alone before he left? Mr Price did not look like a man who let his chances slip away without taking advantage of them.
No, Liz, you must be mistaken. It is just that you fancy him in love with you because that is what you want. If he were in love with you, he would have shown it clearly, and he would have talked to you about it. He wouldn't leave Cranston without letting you know. Well, there are still two more days...we'll see. Don't be stupid, Liz, will you?
Liz was angry with herself for feeling the way she did, even if she knew that there was nothing wrong with her emotions. What could be possibly wrong with being in love with a man like Mr Price? Nothing, except the fact that he did not return her love.
As always when she was troubled by something, Liz decided to go for a walk the next afternoon. She had spent all morning at home, hoping that Mr Price might call on her and Mrs Charles, but had given up hope when he had still not turned up by noontime.
Now she wanted to walk to the Searle's home and ask Emily to go for a walk with her. Mrs Charles had wanted her to send a note to Emily, but Liz wanted to surprise her.
So she set out on her own into the direction of the Searle's house, completely lost in thoughts.
She did not notice the gentleman on horseback coming towards her until she heard him shout at her.
"Watch out, Madam," he cried, and Liz had just enough time to jump aside and get out of the way. In doing so, she tripped, and sprained her foot.
The man had passed her by, and had not even turned around to see if she was allright.
"Idiot," Liz muttered, while she cautiously tried to step forward. The pain nearly made her cry. It was not possible to go very far, but she could not stay here either. Mrs Charles would be very upset if she did not get home at the time she had told her she would, and Liz did not want to cause alarm. A sprained foot was no catastrophe, even if it did hurt enough.
No, she would go on to the Searle's house, and there she would ask Emily or Mr Searle to arrange some transport for her.
"Just half a mile, Liz, you can manage that," she said to herself, clenching her teeth because of the pain.
She had to stop nearly every twenty yards, but finally she reached the house. Something was strange - it made a deserted impression.
Perhaps it would have been a better idea if I had sent a message, Liz thought. Then she shrugged her shoulders. Even if Mr Searle and Emily were not at home, certainly one of the servants could go to Mrs Charles's with a message, so Mrs Charles would not have to worry about her.
Liz rang the doorbell, but it took some time until a servant opened the door. He looked at her inquiringly, and when she asked him if Miss Searle was at home, he answered in the negative.
"I am sorry, Madam, but Miss Searle has gone for a walk with her governess."
Liz sighed. "You do not happen to know when she will be back?"
"No, I am sorry, Madam."
"Is Mr Searle at home, then?"
The servant hesitated. Liz got angry.
"Listen, I am not here to argue. I was on a walk, and I have sprained my foot. It would be a great relief if you could just let me in while you are still trying to find an excuse for your master. All I want is a place to sit down and some ink and paper to send a message to Mrs Charles. Thank you very much."
She limped past the servant into the hall. The man was just standing there, staring at her with his mouth open.
"And now, if you could just bring me something to write, I would be perfectly fine," she said, sitting down on a chair. "Not to mention that I would be really obliged to you if you could inform your master of my being here."
The servant nodded, still completely taken aback. Liz leaned back in her chair. This was much better...
Suddenly she heard voices coming from a door. It sounded as if an argument was going on in the library, and she knew both voices. It was Mr Searle, and Mr Adams.
"We'll just have to try tonight, then," Mr Searle said.
"That's what I told you. Carrick says that one of the Weymouth men suspects something. I told him to find out who it is and to take measures."
"Adams, I do not quite like your way of using the phrase "taking measures". I will not let you act the same way as you acted with Maynard."
"What are you going to do to prevent us, Searle? Anyway, we'll be more careful this time, I don't want Campbell to suspect a thing again."
"Oh, I think Campbell is not a problem. It is Price we have to reckon with," Mr Searle answered.
"He won't be a problem for long," was Mr Adams's answer. "He'll leave soon, and in the meantime I'll have an eye on him."
Liz sat there, petrified. She could not believe what she had heard with her own ears...she wanted to jump on her feet and run away, only she knew that this was not possible. Well, perhaps if she acted normally, they would not suspect her of having heard something....she knew very well what would happen to her if they found out.
The door opened, and Mr Searle came out of the library. He was just as shocked to see her as she was to see him.
"Miss Martin, what are you doing here, sitting in the hall all by yourself?"
Liz forced herself to smile. "I wanted to visit your sister, Mr Searle, and on my way here I had a little accident. It is nothing serious, but I think I sprained my foot. It was too far to go back, so I thought I could depend on your assistance..."
"Why, certainly, Miss Martin," he answered, "I will see to it right away. Who let you in? I cannot have any of my servants treating my guests like that. It must have been Smith, to be sure."
"It was partly my fault, sir, I just wanted to sit down as soon as possible, and this chair was so convenient."
Meanwhile, Mr Adams had joined them and gave Mr Searle a furious look.
"I think we will have to do something about it, Searle. Just ring for a servant, for a start."
Mr Searle nodded, and went in search of a servant, while Mr Adams stayed with Liz.
Somehow she felt that he had found out about her comedy, and that he knew that she had overheard everything. It seemed he wanted to keep an eye on her, to prevent her from running away.
From what she had heard, Mr Adams did not really care if she had really heard anything. The possibility of her having heard the things he and Mr Searle had said gave him reason enough to "take measures". Liz shivered.
"Are you cold, Miss Martin," Mr Adams asked, in a formal voice.
Liz nodded. "It must be the shock, Mr Adams. I was nearly run over by a horse, you know...this is how the accident happened."
Mr Adams did not really seem to be interested in what she had to say. Mr Searle returned with a maidservant, and they helped Liz to the same bedroom where she had spent the night after the dinner party.
"Mr Searle, all I needed was some assistance to get back home," Liz protested.
Mr Searle shook his head. "I will not let you leave before we know that everything is fine," he said. "I will send for Mr Campbell."
"Really, Mr Searle, this is not at all necessary," Liz said. "Mrs Charles will know what to do."
Her protests had no effect, however. Mr Searle repeated that he would send for Mr Campbell, and left the room. The maidservant helped Liz with getting undressed, and Liz was put to bed. When the servant had left her, Liz got up and got dressed again. She did not want to stay in this house for one minute more, even if that meant that she had to walk all the way back to Cranston. She limped to the door and turned the handle.
The door was locked. She had been taken hostage by Mr Searle.
Part 25
First, Liz was so desperate that she sat down on the bed and started to cry. How had she got into such trouble? She reproached herself for not having sent a message to Emily, because then she would not have gone here, would not have had the accident, and would not be locked up in this room, waiting for whatever was to come.
Liz was aware of what might be in store for her. At this very moment, Mr Searle and Mr Adams might already negotiate what was to be done...Probably they were just trying to decide how to kill her without raising any suspicions.
This last thought made her furious. "No, I won't make it THAT easy for you," she said aloud. "Even if you kill me, you won't have my life without a fight."
She got up, and hobbled towards the window. Perhaps she could escape through the window...but after looking down, Liz gave up that plan. It was too high...and with her aching foot she could not climb anyway. Liz sighed, and thought of her father who had died some years ago. Would he be there to welcome her?
She felt how panic got hold of her...something had to be done, she could not just sit here and wait! This would make her go mad, she could not take it.
Then she remembered how Rob had always said that "panicking won't help". He was right - she had to try to stay calm, and she had to make a plan.
At the same time, Mr Barrie was sitting in Mr Campbell's study, drinking a glass of brandy and listening to William's account of what he had found out. He listened intently, and nodded from time to time.
"Good work, Mr Price, excellent," he said when William had ended his report. "There is just one thing I have to know. When are they going to land smuggled goods again? I cannot arrest them on the grounds of a mere suspicion, without evidence."
"Did you not say that they would try tomorrow?" Mr Campbell asked.
"This is what I have been told, yes, but what if they are just trying to fool me?"
"I cannot help you here, Mr Barrie, I am sorry," William answered.
"I had a thought that they would probably land tonight," Mr Barrie said. "Just a feeling...call it instinct or whatever you like."
William grinned. "You should always trust your instincts, sir, they can keep you out of trouble sometimes."
Campbell laughed. "Says the man who hardly ever has a rational reason for what he does. You're a good team, I think."
"Campbell, if you go on like that Mr Barrie will think I am an utter fool, but I am not. I do have rational reasons for most things I do, although I confess that I do trust my feelings, sometimes, and when I did in the past, it was always for the best, right Campbell?"
"True. You were always right when you trusted your intuition, Price."
"I think that Mr Barrie's intuition is right, too. What are you going to do, Mr Barrie?"
"Some of my men are already waiting for their orders, just outside Cranston. I have told them to keep a close watch on the beach, and to send me word as soon as they find something wrong."
William nodded. "So all we can do now is wait."
Liz started when she heard a key turn in the lock of bedroom door. Quickly, she limped over to a chair and seated herself. She tried to look cool, calm and collected. Nobody was to see how scared she was.
Mr Searle entered the room, and had some ink, writing paper and a quill with him. He looked at her in surprise.
"You are up, Miss Martin?"
"Mr Searle, I can no longer stay here. I am sure Mrs Charles is already waiting for me, and she will be very worried. I must ask you to let me go home."
"Miss Martin, this is out of the question. I will not let you go before Mr Campbell has seen you."
Mr Campbell...that sounded good. If Mr Campbell came here, she would find a way to tell him...if she was still alive when he arrived, that meant. Even an excellent surgeon like Mr Campbell had not been able to help Mr Maynard...Liz shivered.
"Sir, I can do very well without Mr Campbell, believe me. Mrs Charles is very skilled in treating injuries like mine."
Mr Searle shook his head. "Miss Martin, this is not possible. I shall keep you here for the sake of your security."
Liz got angry. "My security, Mr Searle? Is that why I was locked into this room? Security, indeed. What are you afraid of? If you are concerned about my reputation, your being here in this room with me, unattended, may already ruin it. Are there any dangers you want to keep me from? What sort of security are you talking of, for Heaven's sake?"
She glared at him, waiting for an answer.
"Miss Martin, if you would just believe me...it is for your own good."
This was enough...
"And Mr Maynard went to the Anchor for his own good as well, I suppose," Liz retorted, before she could stop herself.
She saw Mr Searle's reaction. He started, went pale, and looked at her as if she had slapped his face. He was not angry, but hurt.
"Very well," he said quietly, and put writing paper, ink and quill on a table. "I have brought you something to write a note to Mrs Charles that you will not be home tonight. I shall leave you alone now. A servant will come for your note in ten minutes."
Then, with a curt nod, he left the room, without looking at her any more. Liz heard him lock the door again.
She was still shocked about her having said a thing about Mr Maynard. How could she have been so incredibly stupid? Until now, they had not known that she was informed about the cause of Maynard's death, but now they knew, and Liz was well aware of the consequences. Now that she had said this, there was no chance at all to leave this house alive...if only she could give Mrs Charles a hint, so that she could get some help. Getting out of here all by herself was impossible.
"Do you call this good tactics, Liz, giving them a reason to kill you," she said to herself.
She looked out of the window to think. She had to be careful how to express herself, she had no doubt that Mr Searle and Mr Adams would read her letter before sending it, and would not send it if there was the slightest hint concerning the real reason for her staying away. Then Liz had an idea. She grinned, and started to write. She knew Mrs Charles well enough to know what effect this letter would have on her.
The Campbells were just preparing for dinner, when Mrs Charles arrived at their house. She was clearly upset and demanded to see Mr Campbell in an urgent business.
Mr Campbell showed Mrs Charles into his study. When she had taken a seat, he said, "What can I do for you, Mrs Charles. Is anyone unwell in your house?"
"No, Mr Campbell, not in my house. I just had a message from Elizabeth that she has sprained her foot, and now I wanted to ask you how she is."
Campbell frowned. "I do not quite understand, Mrs Charles. How am I to know how Miss Martin is?"
"She went to see Miss Searle this afternoon, and now she has sent me a message that she has had an accident, and that she is staying at Mr Searle's house. She also mentioned that Mr Searle had sent for you, and so I thought I'd go and ask you."
"I have not had any message from Mr Searle, Mrs Charles. When did you get your message?"
"About half an hour ago."
Campbell frowned. "If Mr Searle had sent me a message, he would probably have sent it along with your note from Miss Martin. Strange..."
"Strange, indeed, Mr Campbell. I am afraid something has happened...I thought so when I read the letter at first, that is one of the reasons why I came here."
"What makes you think that something must have happened, Mrs Charles?"
"The letter is not written in Elizabeth's usual style, although it is her handwriting. It is not her way of expressing herself - actually, there are some expressions in it that are more like Mr Searle, as if he had dictated the letter - Mr Campbell, I do not know what trouble the girl may have got into, but I am sure it is serious. What can we do?"
Mr Campbell tried to calm Mrs Charles, told her that maybe Mr Searle had not yet had time to do something about that matter, and that he was going to see Miss Martin if there was no message from Mr Searle in the next half hour.
He invited Mrs Charles to stay here and dine with his wife, and went to speak to William and Mr Barrie about that matter. He was sure that Miss Martin was in danger - but he could not do anything about it on his own. His first idea had been to go to see Miss Martin, but would they even let him see her? It was not likely...the whole situation seemed irrational to him. Searle must have a good reason to keep Miss Martin in his house, instead of taking her home.
While he told the two gentlemen what he had just heard from Mrs Charles, he kept watching his friend Price. He had never seen him like that before...pale, calm, but with a wild look in his eyes. It seemed as if he was about to go mad. Campbell was worried. He hoped that Price would not do anything rash...
"So, what are we going to do," he said when he had ended his narrative. "It seems that Miss Martin has somehow got into Searle's way, if you ask me. It may well be that he is keeping her in his house so she cannot tell Mrs Charles or us about his plans, and that he will let her go as soon as he need not fear her any more."
"He'll always have to fear her, Campbell. She's a witness," William said, wretchedly. "She'll have no chance if we don't help her."
But, how was this to be done? They soon came to the conclusion that it would be the best thing to send for Mr Barrie's revenue men, and to try to see Miss Martin. If they were not allowed to enter the house, they would force their way into it.
William went upstairs to his room to get dressed. Then he opened his trunk and took out his pistol. There was a knock at the door, and Campbell came in.
"What are you doing, Price? You are not going to take a pistol with you, are you?"
"Of course I am," William said, while he was loading the gun. "There's going to be trouble tonight. I might need it."
"Price, listen..."
"If he has hurt her in any way, he's a dead man, I swear" William said in a furious voice.
"Who? Searle?"
"Whoever."
"Price, you cannot take the law into your own hands..."
"Who will prevent me? Nobody, and no one will blame me either."
"But what if..."
"What if?"
"What if it's already too late?"
William looked at Campbell, and Campbell could see the terror in his eyes. He had thought of that possibility, too.
"In that case, Campbell, I am a dead man, too. You know it is my entire fault. How am I to live with such a thing?" He gave his friend a faint smile. "Let's just hope for the best, shall we?"
Part 26
Liz did not know for how long she had been sitting in that room. Once she heard horses outside the house. She looked outside, and saw that it was Mr Searle and Mr Adams who were riding away.
Well, as long as they are gone, I can feel safe, at least, Liz thought.
Liz wondered why Mr Searle had given her such a hurt look before. Of course, she had charged him of murder, but if he had been the murderer, he would have been angry, or amused, or indifferent, but hurt? No, he would not have been offended. But he knew about the murder, she had noticed that. Did Emily know it, too? And did Emily know that she was locked up in a room in her house? Would Emily help her? Liz had seen on many occasions how devoted Emily was to her brother. She would do everything for him, Liz was sure. So, probably, Emily would not move a finger to help her. It was sad, but true.
This is not the right moment for self-deception anyway, Liz thought. It seems you have no more friends you can really count on - I'm not even sure if Mr Campbell or Mr Price will be able to do something for you - not that they do not want to, but I suppose they will not be able to. It's your own fault, Liz, face the truth.
Then she remembered Mr Price's warning. Now she knew what he had meant when he had warned her to keep out of the matter of Maynard's death. He had been so right...and she had even been angry with him.
It serves you right, Liz. You always prided yourself on your cleverness, and now you find that you are not cleverer than anybody else. In fact, you are acting in an extremely stupid way, and you will have to pay for messing around with things you should have left alone.
She felt like crying, but she was determined not to shed one tear. She would not let them have that triumph over her. Crying was the thing most women would do in her situation - she had cried before, but no more. No, she would cry no more tears. She remembered how Robert and George had sometimes teased her when they had been boys, and had laughed at her when she had started to cry. At one point she had promised herself never to cry any more - and if she did, she would not want to be caught at it.
Liz thought of her family, and the thought of them hurt her even more than the thought of herself. Her troubles would be over soon, no doubt, but what about them? Sure, their lives would go on without her, but there were so many things she would have wanted to say to them. She tried to imagine what it would be like for them, but she had to give up that thought because it nearly made her cry.
"I would have liked to see my little niece or nephew at least once," she said aloud. "I hope Rob and Harriet will tell their children about their poor, stupid Auntie Liz."
Then she heard the noise of the door being unlocked, and started. Who was coming here? It could not be Mr Searle or Mr Adams, she would have heard their horses if they had already come back.
Meanwhile, it had grown dark outside, and so Liz could not see who her visitor was at first. She just saw a silhouette against the light from the hall, and she recognised that it was a woman.
"Emily!"
Emily closed the door behind her, but she did not lock it. She put a candle on the table, and looked at her sadly.
"Elizabeth," she said, "I am so sorry!"
"Sorry for what, Emily? You did not do anything to me, did you?"
"True, but still I feel sorry for what has happened." Tears were running down Emily's cheeks.
"I have come to do the right thing, Elizabeth, although it is not easy for me..."
"What is the right thing for you, Emily?" Liz looked at her earnestly.
"Letting you go, of course. I will let you go in a minute, but I want to talk to you once more...we will not have much chance of talking with each other after that, I suppose..."
Liz could not believe what she had just heard. Emily wanted to let her go! She thanked God for sending her Emily when she needed her most. To think that Emily would not help her!
"You know, Elizabeth, I have talked to my brother before he left, and there are a few things I want to tell you about him before you leave."
"Is there anything I should know about your brother," Liz said coldly.
Emily nodded. "Perhaps more than you think at the moment, Elizabeth. Promise me to listen to what I have to say. After that, you are free to go wherever you like. I would not recommend you to go near the beach or the ruin, though, they might capture you if you do."
"I will listen to you, Emily," Liz said. "I think I owe it to you."
Emily smiled and shook her head. "You owe me nothing, Elizabeth, believe me. I am doing this for you because you are the best friend I ever had - there were only three people in my life whom I could trust completely - my brother, Charles, and you. I have found out that I couldn't trust my brother as much as I thought - you know what happened to Charles - and I do not want the same thing to happen to you. I wasn't able to help him, but I am able to help you, Elizabeth, and so I will.
But as I said before, there are a few things you ought to know about my brother and me. We are rich, it is true, but did you never wonder where our fortune came from? My brother is in trade, and so was our father before him, but it was free trade rather than anything else. My father opened a shop in Weymouth when he came there, about thirty years ago. Soon he found out that he could earn more money with selling goods that had been smuggled, and Cranston was a perfect place for smuggling - far better than Weymouth. He always said that there was nothing wrong with smuggling; he said we need not be ashamed of it, but he also taught us how to conceal it. I told you we were never allowed to show our real feelings, or to talk too much to other people. We talk a lot without saying a thing. My brother is like that, did you notice? He is agreeable, he is witty, he tries to be everybody's friend, but he never really shows his feelings."
Liz nodded. This was an exact description of Mr Searle.
"But, Elizabeth, that does not mean that he has no feeling at all. When I talked to him today, he told me what you had said to him...about Charles. He asked me to tell you everything I know about Charles's death, he said you would not believe him. He was hurt, Elizabeth, he said he did not know why you had such a bad opinion of him. Richard likes you very much, you must know. He is in love with you."
Liz was shocked. There had been a time when such news would have delighted her, but not now, not after all that had happened. She had liked Mr Searle, but she would never have been able to love him, even if she had thought so at first.
"He understands that he will never have a chance of being happy with you - not now that you know about his smuggling business. Even if he settled down to be respectable now, you would never be able to respect him because you know what he did before. But, Elizabeth, even if you think ill of him, do not ever think he is a murderer. Richard would never be capable of doing such a thing."
"But Mr Maynard was murdered, Emily!" Liz knew about the pain this would give Emily, but she could not stay silent.
"He was murdered, true, although I did not know it until today. But my brother had nothing to do with it, and he would have prevented it if he had been able to."
Liz remembered what Mr Searle had said to Mr Adams. "I will not let you act the same way as you acted with Maynard."
This should have shown her that he disapproved of such methods. Still she had blamed him for the murder.
Even if he is not a murderer, Liz, he deserves reproach. He is a smuggler, and he holds you hostage in his own house. You do not have to feel sorry for him.
Emily sighed.
"What happened that night was the following. Obviously, Charles had found out about Mr Carrick's involvement in the smuggling business, although he was not really sure if he was on the right track. Mr Carrick knew that he had to do something about it, or he would be caught, and he would be ruined.
So he asked Mr Adams what to do, and Mr Adams told him to do whatever he thought suitable. So Mr Carrick wrote an anonymous letter to Charles, informing that a huge quantity of smuggled brandy was stored in the cellars of the Anchor Inn.
Charles was determined to find the brandy. He thought this would be a good chance of rising in his position - getting promoted, you know. He had good reasons for wanting it - after all, he wanted to get married, and as he had said to me, he wanted to earn his own living and did not want people to think he had only married me for my money."
Emily cried, and Liz put her arm round Emily's shoulders to comfort her.
"So he went to the Anchor, all alone?"
Emily shook her head. "No, Charles was not as foolhardy as to do such a thing. He went to the Anchor, but he was not alone, and he was armed. Mr Carrick went with him. They asked the innkeeper to let them see the cellars, they went downstairs, and there Mr Carrick...," She sobbed.
"You do not have to go on, Emily, I know what happened next."
"But you must believe me, Elizabeth, Richard had nothing to do with it! When he told me the story today, he also said how much he has regretted it ever since, and that he would have done something against it if he had known what Mr Carrick and Mr Adams were up to. And even though I am not sure whether I will ever be able to trust him completely, I know he was not lying to me at that moment - it was one of the few moments in his life when he was absolutely sincere."
Liz nodded. "Is that all you wanted me to know, Emily? I think I will have to go, or they will come back, and that is the end of my escape before it has started."
Emily smiled. "They will not come back that soon, Elizabeth, you can rely on that. This is the other thing I wanted to tell you. I am not only here because I wanted to help you, although you can be sure that I would also have helped you if I had known that you were in trouble. I am also here because that is what Richard wanted me to do. He told me to let you go as soon as he and Mr Adams were far enough from the house."
"Why did he not let me go himself," Liz asked.
"He could not because of Mr Adams. Mr Adams is a man with no scruples at all, and Mr Carrick, too. If Richard had let you go, you would not have got as far as Cranston, I can tell you. Some terrible "accident" would have happened to you on the way.
Richard kept you here because he thought it was safer for you to be here where he could have an eye on you. It was his idea to send a letter to Mrs Charles, because he thought that Mr Adams would not be so foolish to do something to you if your friends knew where you were.
Mr Adams actually congratulated him on this plan and said that "carriages can overturn very easily, or young ladies can fall into the water and drown, and no one will suspect a thing because Miss Martin has written this letter. Another tragic accident in Cranston".
Richard knew that nothing would happen to you as long as you were in his house. When he said that he was keeping you here for your own good, he was serious. He would never hurt you, Elizabeth."
"Where are they now?"
"At the beach, landing their next load of goods. They will stay away all night, I guess, so you will be quite safe as long as you do not go down there. I would like to give you a horse, Elizabeth, but I am afraid it would be noticed if I did, and I do not know if I can trust our stable hands. I'm afraid all I can do for you is to let you leave this house. You will have to get back to Cranston by yourself, and I will stay here and keep them away from you as long as I can."
Liz embraced Emily. "Will I see you again?"
Emily smiled faintly. "Perhaps, Elizabeth, but I do not think so. I wish you all the best for your future. Get back home safely. If I can give you one piece of advice, take the way through the garden and go into the forest. No one will see you there, and no one will go there to look for you either."
Liz nodded. "I will never forget what you did for me, Emily."
"There is no need to thank me, Elizabeth. I did what was right."
William, Campbell and Mr Barrie had just got ready to leave when a revenue officer had turned up with an urgent message for Mr Barrie. The message said that the customs men had seen a boat on the sea, obviously heading for the beach.
"I knew they were trying to fool me," Mr Barrie exclaimed. "One should never trust one's informers too much. Well, gentlemen, I am afraid my men will not be able to be of assistance to you now. They all will be needed on the beach. I am sorry."
Campbell looked at William. "I suppose that means that Searle will go there too. Maybe it's not too late yet."
"Maybe it is, though," was William's answer. "Campbell, if you want to join the revenue men, I'll understand that. There might be a fight, and you might be needed."
Campbell shook his head. "I won't let you go there all by yourself, Price. I'll go with you."
He turned to Mr Barrie. "We will join you later, Mr Barrie, as soon as we have found out where Miss Martin is."
Mr Barrie nodded, mounted his horse and rode away with the messenger. William and Campbell mounted their horses, too, and rode into the direction of Mr Searle's house.
When they arrived at the forest, William suddenly said, "Let's go there into the woods. I think that no one will watch the back of the house, but surely they will have an eye on the front."
So they led their horses into the forest, and there they waited for the darkness. Campbell had thought that it was better if no one saw them approach the house before they were actually there, so the servants and master would be taken by surprise. They heard Adams and Searle riding by, and Campbell whispered, "They have left the house. This is good news. Perhaps someone will let us in now, Price."
William thought for a few moments, and then he said, "It is worth a try. But we should wait a while, until they are gone far enough."
Campbell agreed. Meanwhile it was getting dark in the forest, and it was getting rather cold, too. Finally William said, "I cannot wait any longer, Campbell, I need to go and look for her now. Stay here, will you?"
"No, I said I was going to come with you."
"Don't be stupid, Campbell, you're a married man, I don't want you to get hurt. Stay here, I say."
With these words, William disappeared before Campbell could protest. Campbell sighed. His friend was determined to be the knight in shining armour...he hoped all would be well and Price would not get into a scrape.
Liz had left the house, and cautiously moved across the lawn in the garden. She knew that Emily was watching her from one of the upstairs windows, because she could see the light. Dear Emily...she was still watching over her...
If she had been healthy at least, if her foot had not hurt as much as it did...but then she would never have got into that situation, because she would have gone home as soon as the servant had told her that Emily had gone out.
Liz knew that her white skirt was glowing in the moonlight, and that she was clearly visible to anyone. It was her intention to reach the woods as fast as possible, so that she might be able to hide if she was being followed.
When she had reached the edge of the forest she paused for a moment. The pain in her foot had got worse, but somehow she had to get to Cranston...though she did not know how to manage.
Suddenly she heard a noise, and froze...there was someone behind her. Her first thought was that someone had seen her, and was here to capture her again. Well, they would not get her without a fight...
Someone touched her shoulder from behind, and Liz whirled around, ready to strike the attacker. However, she had forgotten about her injured foot for a moment, and the pain made her falter.
The next thing she realised was that someone got hold of her before she fell, put his arms around her and said in a soothing voice, "It's allright Miss Martin, don't be afraid - it's only me, I won't hurt you."
Liz knew and loved this voice - it was Mr Price's.
Part 27
At that moment, Liz realised that she was safe. Mr Price would not let anything happen to her, he would defend her against anything.
She felt so relieved that she started to cry, leaning on his shoulder, and was at the same time angry with herself for doing so. Mr Price held her close and was talking to her in a soft, soothing voice as if he was talking to a child. It felt so good to be held this way...
Finally her sobs subsided, and she was able to look at him. She felt utterly ashamed for her behaviour, and wondered what he might think of her.
"I'm sorry, Mr Price," she said, shyly, while trying to straighten her hair and unsuccessfully searching her pocket for a handkerchief.
"I do not think you have a reason to apologise, Miss Martin," he said, handing her a handkerchief. "Do you feel better now?"
She could not quite interpret the look he gave her. It was so tender, full of feeling...
She nodded. "I do not usually make such scenes, Mr Price," she said.
"Who is making a scene, Miss Martin? I think you have been very brave. How did you get away?"
"Emily let me go."
"Miss Searle?" He looked at her curiously.
Liz nodded. "I do not think this is the right place to tell you the whole story, Mr Price." She shivered. It was rather cold here...
"I agree with you there. I think it is time to take you home, Miss Martin. How is your foot? Can you walk? Campbell is on the other side of the forest, near the road, and our horses are there, too. Do you think you can manage that far?"
"I don't know," Liz answered. "That foot hurts more and more, but I'll try."
Mr Price smiled. "Just hold on to me, Miss Martin, I am sure we will get along."
Liz tried her best to conceal that every step she took pained her, but Mr Price was well aware of it. After a few yards, he stopped.
"This will not do, Miss Martin, I can see that you're suffering."
With these words, he lifted her up and went on, carrying her, and ignoring her protests.
They reached the spot where Campbell was waiting for them.
"Ah, there you are, Miss Martin," he said, with a wide smile. "We were excessively worried about you. How is your foot? "
"It is very well, thank you," Liz said, as she did not want to admit that it still hurt, after having told Mr Price that she could "walk very well if he would just let her try".
"Don't believe a word she says," Mr Price answered. "She was hardly able to walk, and she would never have got back to Cranston by herself."
Knowing that this was true, Liz did not say anything.
"I'm afraid it's too dark here, I cannot see anything," Mr Campbell said. "But I'll have a short look, if you do not mind."
Liz was seated on a large stone, and Mr Campbell examined her leg.
"Good news, Miss Martin, the injury is not that serious, I think."
"If it had been, Mr Campbell, I wouldn't have been able to walk half a mile after the accident."
"I wouldn't say that, Miss Martin, I have seen people do amazing things when they were in a state of shock. How did the accident happen, anyway?"
"There was a gentleman on horseback...he was approaching so fast, I was nearly run over. I jumped aside the last moment, and then I sprained my foot."
Mr Price frowned and looked at Campbell. "Sounds like Barrie to me."
"Who is Mr Barrie, Mr Price?"
"A revenue officer from Weymouth, Miss Martin."
"A revenue officer?" This could only mean one thing. The revenue were here to arrest the smugglers, and Liz was not sure if she should be glad to hear it or if she should regret it.
As for Mr Adams and Mr Carrick, Liz felt no pity at all. They would get what they deserved, but what about Mr Searle? He was not as bad as the other two, but still...
Liz, he is a criminal, too, even if he has saved you. Smuggling is a crime, and Mr Searle is guilty of it. Well, the punishment for smuggling is not as severe as it is for murder, is it?
"Let us take Miss Martin home," Mr Campbell said. "I need some proper light to do my work."
Mr Price agreed, and lifted Elizabeth on his horse before he mounted it himself.
"I suppose you are a horsewoman, Miss Martin, having grown up on a farm," he said.
"I am able to ride, yes, though I have never really enjoyed it," Liz answered. Still, now she was quite inclined to change her mind - if her leg had not hurt so much, she would probably have enjoyed that ride.
Suddenly they heard a blast. There was no doubt where the noise was coming from, and there was also no doubt what that would mean.
Someone had fired a pistol at the beach. Shortly after that, they heard more shots.
"Looks like we will have to leave you as soon as you are at home, Miss Martin," Mr Price said. "This sounds like trouble, and Campbell might be needed."
"But you do not have to go there, do you," Liz said, anxiously.
"I won't let Campbell go there all by himself, Miss Martin," was his answer.
"Please, don't go, Mr Price." She turned round to face him, and looked at him worriedly.
"Please, I do not want you to get hurt."
"I will not get hurt, Miss Martin, I promise." There was this affectionate look again...
They had arrived at Mrs Charles's house now, and Mrs Charles came running out of the door.
"Elizabeth! Oh, thank God nothing has happened to you. How could I ever have forgiven myself! And what would your mother have said, I wonder? Mr Campbell, is she hurt? What can I do?"
Mr Campbell answered Mrs Charles's questions patiently, but also told her that he had to leave immediately to see what had happened at the beach.
"I will come to see Miss Martin tomorrow morning, Mrs Charles, and will leave her to your excellent care in the meantime. I think that if you bandage her foot and put a cold compress on the injury, she will be better soon."
"I am infinitely obliged to you, Mr Campbell, I will never forget the service you have rendered us, I swear."
Meanwhile, William had lifted Liz from the horse, and assisted her with walking up to the front door of the house.
"I have not thanked you yet, Mr Price, for exerting yourself so much for my sake. You do not know how much that means to me," Liz said, looking at him earnestly.
He smiled. "This was no exertion, Miss Martin. I hope you will feel better again tomorrow. I shall certainly call on you to see how you are doing."
"Do, Mr Price, I am looking forward to your visit, and Mr Price?"
"Yes, Miss Martin?"
"Do take care of yourself, will you?"
He gave her a radiant smile, and said, "I certainly will. After all, I've got something to look forward to."
With these words, he took his leave of Liz and Mrs Charles and joined Mr Campbell, who was already waiting impatiently.
Liz went into the house with the assistance of Mrs Charles and Sarah, and was put to bed.
The excitements of the day had affected Liz more than she had ever thought it possible. During the night, she became feverish, and was tossing and turning in her bed, shivering, troubled with nightmares.
Mrs Charles found her in an alarming state when she came to check on her, and was worried exceedingly. This was more serious than just a sprained foot, this was getting dangerous.
"Oh, Elizabeth, dear Elizabeth, what are you doing to me," she sighed, and decided to sit up all night in Liz's room and see if the fever was getting worse. If Elizabeth's temperature rose, she would send for Mr Campbell immediately.
When Liz woke up after a particularly frightening nightmare, she saw Mrs Charles sitting next to her bed, watching her anxiously. Although her presence had something reassuring, Liz did not want Mrs Charles to give up her night's sleep just for her sake.
"What are you doing here, Mrs Charles," she exclaimed.
"I am here to take care of you, Elizabeth," was Mrs Charles's answer.
"I am fine, Mrs Charles, go to sleep," Liz said, getting out of bed. "See, I can even get up, don't worry...."
She felt a sudden giddiness, and the last thing she noticed was Mrs Charles dashing towards her and yelling for Sarah.
Part 28
While William and Campbell were on their way to the beach, William recalled everything Elizabeth had said to him that evening. She had been so concerned about him.
Please, don't go, Mr Price.... He had been seriously tempted to let Campbell go to the beach by himself and to stay with Elizabeth. Please, I do not want you to get hurt...
Never before had he been so sure that she felt more for him than friendship.
When he had held her in his arms, he had wanted to kiss her - and only the thought of troubling her had kept him from doing it. He was the last man to take advantage of a situation like this. No, he would wait until tomorrow, until Elizabeth felt better and had got over the distress she had been through today. She would be able to think more clearly, and could seriously consider the offer he was about to make.
Until he had feared for her life, he had not been certain about his feelings, but he was sure now. He would not let another chance slip away - he would talk to her, tell her about his feelings and would ask her to become his wife. He did not mind his situation any more now - he would do everything to advance, he would work hard to offer her a proper home, a home like the one she was used to having.
Campbell was calling out to him, and this roused him from his reverie.
"I think it is better if we leave the horses here, Price, I have no intention of being a target for the smugglers."
William nodded, and so they dismounted their horses and went on quietly. Meanwhile they could hear nearly everything that was taking place at the beach - there was still shooting going on, although the blasts had become less frequent. William took his own pistol into his hand - it was better to be prepared.
Campbell watched his friend. His ability of concentrating in times of crisis was amazing. During war, he had seen William on several occasions, with hell breaking loose around them - only Lt. Price had been cool, calm and collected, and somehow his manner had also affected his men. As long as Miss Martin had been in the case, however, Price had forgotten about this, and Campbell could not help but smile. As soon as matters got personal, everyone tended to be foolhardy...
The pebbles were a problem - one could hear every step they took, so they moved forward slowly, careful not to make too much noise. Suddenly Campbell stumbled over something - only to realise that the obstacle was a human body.
"Wait, Price," he hissed.
William joined him. "Poor chap," he remarked, kneeling down next to the body as his friend had done. "Is he dead, " he asked anxiously.
Campbell examined the man carefully and shook his head. "No, he is still breathing, but he is seriously injured. If I have to leave him here, however, his chances of surviving won't be too good. We'll have to take him somewhere where I can do something for him."
There was some hallooing about a hundred yards away from them, and some men with torches approached them. William aimed his pistol at them.
"Who's there," he shouted.
"Barrie," was the answer. William gave a sigh of relief and put the pistol away.
Shortly after that, Mr Barrie and two of his men joined them.
William got up and said, "Have you arrested them?"
"I think we have, yes," was Mr Barrie's answer. "But it was a hard fight. Didn't lose any of my men, thank God, but two of the smugglers got killed." He looked at Campbell curiously.
"Or is it three of them?"
"No, this one is still alive. He's breathing."
Now, in the light of the torches, they recognised who was lying there. It was Mr Searle.
"Give me some light," Campbell said to one of the revenue men. The man obeyed at once, and in the flickering light Campbell tore Searle's shirt open, only to give a short gasp of surprise.
"Have you ever seen anything like that," he said. "He was shot twice. Has lost a lot of blood."
He turned to Mr Barrie. "Take him to the Anchor Inn in Cranston, and tell the innkeeper to get everything ready. I need hot water, and enough bandage material. I'll do what I can, but, honestly..." Here he lowered his voice, so that only William and Mr Barrie could hear him, "...I do not think his chances of survival are too good."
More revenue men joined them, and Mr Barrie ordered four of them to carry Mr Searle to the Anchor, while the rest were to take the arrested smugglers to Cranston and put them into prison. Among them were Mr Adams and Mr Carrick.
William noticed how Adams looked at Searle, who was just lifted on a stretcher to be carried away.
"Now, was THAT necessary, Adams," he addressed him furiously. "Wasn't Maynard enough?"
Adams gave him a haughty smile, but he did not answer.
"Don't talk to me about necessity, Price," Carrick answered instead of him. "In cases of emergency everyone decides for himself, you should know that."
After their arrival at the Anchor Inn, Campbell set to work immediately. Mr Searle was taken to one of the bedrooms upstairs, while Campbell tended to the minor injuries the customs men had suffered from. Mr Barrie had been grazed by a bullet, but his wound only needed to be dressed and did not require further treatment.
Campbell turned to William. "You'd better go home and get some sleep, Price. After all, you'll have to leave tomorrow evening."
William shook his head. "You'll need an assistant, won't you? Well, here I am."
Campbell gave him an inquiring look. "Are you sure?"
"Definitely. Who else would be able to help?"
They went upstairs to the bedroom, and while Campbell was preparing for the operation, William went over to Mr Searle. He looked at him closely, and was surprised to see that Searle was awake, trying to smile at him.
"Mr Searle," he said. "Can you hear me?"
Searle moved his lips, as if he wanted to say something.
"Campbell is just getting ready for an operation. Everything will be all right, Mr Searle."
Again, Searle moved his lips, and after considerable effort, he was able to say, "Not....worth...trouble."
"It's not worth the trouble, you mean? Come on, Mr Searle, you will get better."
Searle shook his head, smiling sadly.
"Miss......?"
"Miss Martin?" William was surprised to hear Searle inquire after Miss Martin.
Another jerk of his head, as if he wanted to nod.
How come he's asking me about her? He locked her up in his house!
Campbell had joined them. "Miss Martin is safe, Mr Searle, don't worry about her," he said, giving William a warning look.
"And now, Mr Searle, we'll concentrate on you. There is no need for you to worry about anyone else."
"Thank...." was all Mr Searle managed to say. He had had difficulty with breathing all the time, but now his breath became more and more infrequent.
Campbell had seen many men die, and he knew that whatever he did could not prevent what was going to happen.
He took William aside and murmured, "I think he was right, Price. I won't bother him any more. He won't survive until tomorrow morning, no matter what I do, that's for sure. If you want to leave now, you're free to do so. I'll stay here until...."
"Are you sure you don't need me, Campbell?"
Campbell nodded, and went back to sit with his patient. William cast one final look at Mr Searle, and left.
While going home, he wondered why Searle had inquired after Elizabeth. There was only one explanation for it - Searle knew that she had escaped, and that could only mean that she had escaped with his help - or at least with his knowledge. Had not Elizabeth said that Miss Searle had let her go? William could not imagine that Miss Searle would do anything without her brother's permission.
Perhaps Searle was not so bad after all, William thought. If circumstances had been different, we might even have been friends.
And, although William had never particularly liked Searle, he felt sorry for him now.
Campbell had been right when he had assumed that Mr Searle would not live through the night. About half an hour after William had left them, Searle passed away. Campbell had stayed with him to the last, trying to make it easier for him.
All the time he had wondered what had happened. Had the customs men shot Searle, or was he the victim of either Adams or Carrick? If it was so, what had caused them to attack their accomplice?
If he seriously considered it, this did not look as if Searle had been mortally wounded in a fight. A customs officer usually only fired if he could not help it, and even then the death of a smuggler was more or less an accident. This did not look like an accident at all. Searle's attacker had had the intention of killing him.
One more thing bothered Campbell. How was he to break the news to Miss Searle? The poor girl was all alone now. She had no one left - except some relations in London she was not really fond of. She would be a rich heiress - as her brother had no children, the family fortune would be hers now, but what would that mean to her? She had already lost her mother and her father - and now her brother was about to die, too. If only she had someone - just someone. Campbell decided to ask his wife if she would take Miss Searle into their house until her relations in London were able to pick her up in Cranston. She must not be left alone in that huge house.
After Campbell had left Searle to the care of the innkeeper, he went back home, only to see that Sarah, Mrs Charles's maidservant, was standing at the doorway, reaching for the doorbell.
"Are you looking for me," he called out, approaching her. Sarah turned around, and nodded.
"It's Miss Martin, sir. She has got fever, and she has fainted. Mrs Charles has told me to go and fetch you."
Campbell sighed. "Off we go, then."
On nights like this, he wished he had learned something decent.
When he arrived at Mrs Charles's, he was shown into Miss Martin's room immediately. Mrs Charles was sitting next to her bed, determined not to leave the room.
Campbell felt her pulse, and her temperature.
"What is the matter with her, Mr Campbell? Can you tell me?"
"Well, Mrs Charles, I think that all the distress has been a bit too much for Miss Martin, that is all."
"But why did she faint, Mr Campbell?"
"I suppose it was her getting out of bed, Mrs Charles. You know that sort of thing, do you not? If one is feeling a bit weak, or has fever, and is getting out of bed too fast, one sometimes faints. Let this be a warning to you, Miss Martin." With these words he turned to Liz. "No more getting out of bed for you until your temperature is back to normal, do you hear? I know you are a headstrong young lady, but in this case you'd better take my advice."
"But what about Mr Price," Liz protested. "He said he was coming to visit me tomorrow."
"No way, Miss Martin, and if it were the King himself who had promised to visit you. I'll tell Price so myself. You have to stay in bed and get some peace and quiet, and if I say peace and quiet, I mean it."
"But..."
"Don't argue with me, young lady, you won't persuade me. Perhaps if you're a good girl, I'll allow you to receive visitors the day after tomorrow. If you are feeling better, that is."
He turned to Mrs Charles again. "I do not think it is too alarming, Mrs Charles, all we have to take care of is to keep her temperature as low as possible. I do not have to tell you what to do in such a case, have I?"
Mrs Charles smiled. "And you are sure that is all that is wrong?"
"Absolutely, Mrs Charles. And don't forget, Miss Martin, peace and quiet." He smiled at Liz and winked.
When he left Mrs Charles's house and headed for his own, the morning was dawning already. Campbell sighed. It had been a long time since he had been so tired...and it looked as if it was going to be a long day again.
"But first, let's have some hours of sleep," he said to himself.
Part 29
The next day was horrible for Campbell, as he had foreseen it. First thing he did in the morning was talk to his wife, telling her about Mr Searle's death and informing her that he intended to invite Miss Searle to their house until her uncle and aunt from London came to take her with them.
Mrs Campbell was not very pleased with the prospect of having Miss Searle in her house, but was silenced by her husband.
"This is the first time I ever asked a favour of you, dear," he said, "and it would give me a strange idea of our marriage if you did not do it. If you do not want to do it for Miss Searle's sake, whose misfortune ought to warm your heart to her, you could at least do it for mine."
Seeing that this was not the right moment to oppose her husband, Mrs Campbell agreed reluctantly, and while still lamenting the great disadvantage of such a scheme, she went off to tell the maidservant to get a room ready for Miss Searle.
Campbell sighed. He had won the first battle of the day, so to speak, but this was only the beginning. The next task was already waiting for him, as Price entered the room, dressed for going out.
He looked at Campbell searchingly. "How is Searle?"
"What do you think?"
"Dead?"
Campbell sighed and nodded. "Price, I know it is much to ask for, but could you accompany me? Someone has to tell Miss Searle about last night's events, and considering the alternatives I'd rather tell her myself. It's only...well, it is not an easy thing to do, and I could do with the support of a friend. Someone who has been there, too."
"Of course I'll go with you. Poor girl, she is left to herself now. Are there any relations?"
"There is an aunt and uncle in London, as far as I know. If Miss Searle gives me their address, I will send them word immediately. I am going to invite Miss Searle to stay with us until they arrive. I thought it would be better not to leave her alone in this huge building, far away from Cranston. I would have asked Mrs Charles at first, had it not been for..." He stopped. He had nearly said, "had it not been for Miss Martin's illness," but he'd rather have handled one troublesome task at a time.
"Had it not been for what?" William gave him an inquiring look. "Is there something I ought to know?"
Campbell could have kicked himself. Well, he could as well get over it...
"Miss Martin has fallen ill last night. When I came home from the Anchor, Mrs Charles's servant was here to tell me so."
"It's nothing serious, I hope." Campbell could read in his friend's eyes that he was exceedingly worried.
"Serious enough, she is feverish, and she fainted when she tried to get out of bed. But it is not dangerous, if she keeps to my orders."
"Like?"
"Like staying in bed and enjoying some peace and quiet for a change. Believe me, she will get better soon."
William looked miserable. "That will prevent my seeing her today, I guess."
"I guess so, too, Price. Not that she did not wish to see you." Campbell smiled. "She made a particular point of getting up in the morning because Mr Price had promised her a visit."
"She did?" William could hardly believe it.
"Still, I am afraid I cannot really trust her. Knowing Miss Martin, I suppose she will do everything to disobey me."
William grinned. "You can bet on that, Campbell. If she is able to do so, that is." His face turned serious again. "I'll call on Mrs Charles to take my leave after we have been to see Miss Searle."
"But you won't call on Miss Martin?"
William sighed. "No, I won't, even if it's hard. I wanted to see her again before I left - there's so much I have to tell her."
"She'll just have to wait until you come back, then."
"That's easier said than done, Campbell, do you not understand? If I leave her like that, she will think I don't care for her."
Campbell shook his head. "She is not such a simpleton, Price. I'm sure she knows you're in love with her, and I know she cares for you, too. There is nothing you could tell her now that she will not gladly hear when you come back, believe me."
"But who knows when that will be? It can be a year, or even two, without my having the chance of seeing her. She will forget me."
"If you think her capable of forgetting you, Price, can you tell me why you want to take the trouble? Her feelings cannot be too sincere if she forgets you that easily."
William agreed, reluctantly. "You may be right, Campbell, but still..."
"Let us discuss this later on, shall we, Price? If it is of any use to you, I shall be happy to deliver any message from you to Miss Martin, when you are gone, and I shall also inform you about anything concerning her. But now we have some serious business to settle first...I have to tell a sixteen year old girl that her brother died last night."
With these words, he rose, and William followed his example. It was true - Miss Searle could no longer be kept in suspense as to what had happened to her brother.
Both William and Campbell had been aware of how difficult it would be to inform Miss Searle about her brother's death, and they both had known that they had to prepare themselves for a violent outburst of emotion.
How violent this outburst was, however, they had not foreseen. Miss Searle broke down crying, and no one, not even Mademoiselle Thierry, could do anything to calm her.
She refused any help, she did not want to stay at Mr Campbell's house, she did not want to take any medication Mr Campbell offered, and no, she did not want to see her aunt and uncle from London.
"They never cared about us anyway, let them stay away! I'll do very well by myself!"
"Miss Searle, be reasonable..." Campbell tried to persuade her.
"Reasonable!? Reasonable? Who can expect me to be reasonable in a moment like this? I only want to be left alone! Why don't you leave me alone? Just go away, will you? No one wants you here!"
"You need help, Miss Searle," said William.
"Nonsense, I never needed help, so why should I need help now? Who can help me, anyway? Can any of you bring back my brother? No, you cannot, so do not talk about helping me, for Heaven's sake!!"
Again, she broke down crying, leaning on Mademoiselle's shoulder, and Campbell and William were watching her helplessly. What was to be done? Miss Searle could not stay here, not in the state she was in, but they were also quite sure that she would refuse to go with them.
"Perhaps, Monsieur, it would be better if Miss Searle follows you when she has calmed herself a bit," Mademoiselle intervened. "In the meantime, I will take care of her."
Campbell could do nothing but agree. At the moment, Miss Searle would not be able to go to Cranston anyway, and probably the people were already gathering to see if anything interesting happened. The arrival of a screaming and crying Miss Searle would be just the thing they were waiting for.
"Can't Elizabeth come to me," Miss Searle sobbed. "I want Elizabeth!"
"This is not possible, Miss Searle, Miss Martin cannot join you," William said.
"Why not? She's my friend, she will come here with the greatest pleasure!"
Campbell shook his head. "Miss Martin is ill, Miss Searle, she cannot possibly come here."
"What do you mean, she is ill? She is not ill, I saw her but yesterday evening...if you are talking about her leg, I am sure she is feeling better already! Please, ask her, tell her how I am. I need a friend now!" Miss Searle kept begging, until Campbell told her that Miss Martin was ill, and that she did not know what had happened.
"Anxiety of any kind could be dangerous to her, Miss Searle, so I think we will have to withhold the news from her until she has regained her health."
Miss Searle sighed. "So be it, then. I just cannot leave this house at the moment, Mr Campbell; I do not want to be a show to the people of Cranston. I need to be alone, do you understand?"
Campbell assented. "Just remember, Miss Searle, that you are free to accept my invitation at any time. If you want to go away from this place that must house so many painful memories for you, just send me word. My wife and I will be happy to be of use to you. We do not want you to have the impression that you are completely friendless."
"Thank you, Mr Campbell, this is very kind, but I do not think I shall need your help. I do not want to be a nuisance, and there is so much that keeps me here still..." She started crying again.
Campbell turned to Mademoiselle. "Take good care of Miss Searle," he said. "I'll call on her again in the evening, when she has had time to think about my offer. Will you inform her uncle and aunt, or do you want me to deal with this task?"
"I will write a letter immediately, Monsieur, thank you."
After they had got back to Campbell's home, Campbell told his wife that Miss Searle had declined their invitation - at least for the time being.
"What do you mean - she has declined? Are we not good enough for her," she snapped. "And after all the trouble I have taken to get the spare room ready for her!"
"Is your own inconvenience all that troubles you, Eleanor? Let us only hope that your worries will never be worse than that of a spare room being prepared in vain."
Mrs Campbell glared at her husband angrily, and then left the room, slamming the door shut.
William, who had involuntarily witnessed the scene, did not say anything. He felt uncomfortable with the situation, and waited for his friend to speak.
"Well," Campbell said, with a bitter laugh, "this is just the right way of ending for your stay here, isn't it? You'll leave Cranston, knowing that it is a corrupted place, and that my wife and I are at odds with each other. I'm sorry, Price, this is not what I expected it to be. "
"There is nothing to be sorry about, Campbell, believe me. Sometimes things just do not work the way one wants them to. Everyone has days like today, sometimes."
"Oh, sure, it started the right way, indeed, and it got worse by every minute."
William hesitated for a moment, and then he said, "I have thought of something, Campbell. I think I will not leave tonight, but early tomorrow morning. I would not have got that far tonight, anyway."
"You want to stay another night?"
"If it is not too much trouble for you, that is."
"Not at all. At least now my wife didn't prepare that spare room for nothing after all." Campbell sighed. "She is not always like that, you must know."
"I know, Campbell. She is just the sort of woman who does not like surprises, who likes to have everything planned and organised for weeks in advance."
"Right, that is it. She just married the wrong sort of man, I think." Campbell looked unhappy saying that.
William shook his head. " You are doing your best to make her happy, Campbell, and she appreciates it. Who could do more?"
"Let us hope you are right."
None of them spoke for a few minutes, until William announced that he was now going to pay his last visit to Mrs Charles.
"Remember what I told you, will you," Campbell said.
William nodded.
"Tell Mrs Charles she should not inform Miss Martin about Searle's death. I don't think she can stand the news yet."
William took a deep breath before he rang the doorbell at Mrs Charles's. He knew that Elizabeth would not be there to meet him, and he regretted that he had missed the chance of speaking to her alone. Now he had to leave her behind, without letting her know how he felt. Perhaps, if he came back, someone else would already have taken the chance...William could not endure the thought of it.
Perhaps I should write her a letter, he thought, but he gave up the idea at once. Had ever a letter been successful in matters of the heart? He doubted it.
Mrs Charles received him civilly, and talked to him cheerfully. She answered his anxious inquiry with a knowing smile and told him that "Miss Martin felt better, but was not yet able to leave her room".
William spent about half an hour with Mrs Charles and was just about to thank her for her kindness and take his leave, when the door opened and Elizabeth came in. She gave a triumphant smile to Mrs Charles, as if to say, "See, I told you I would get up."
One could see at once that she was still feverish, and her foot was troubling her, too, but she smiled bravely and went towards William, reaching out her hand.
"I could not let you leave without saying goodbye to you, Mr Price," she said.
William was happy to see her, but at the same time worried that her getting out of bed might do her harm.
"Miss Martin! I am surprised to see you, after all that Campbell has told me."
Am I really that surprised? Not quite...
"I am glad to see you so well, Miss Martin," he said.
See her so well, indeed. Campbell was right; she ought to stay in bed. But I'm so happy to see her!
Elizabeth smiled. "Oh yes, I am much better already. As I have told Mr Campbell and Mrs Charles, there was nothing to be worried about. I am perfectly well, there is nothing wrong with me."
William and Mrs Charles watched her closely, and both realised that, although Elizabeth said that she was well, it was not so.
"Elizabeth, dear, you ought to stay in bed, you know. What will Mr Campbell say when he hears of it," Mrs Charles asked.
"Five minutes," Liz said to Mrs Charles with an appealing look. "Only five minutes."
"Very well, but not one minute more."
Elizabeth turned to William again. "When are you going to leave?"
"Early tomorrow morning, Miss Martin. Actually, I had planned to take the last coach tonight, but now I found out that I can still manage very well if I leave tomorrow morning. It will only mean that I have to travel a longer distance in one day than I had planned before."
"But is this not very inconvenient?"
William smiled. "Not at all, Miss Martin, not more inconvenient than travelling normally is, and it gives me the chance to spend as much time as possible in Cranston."
Mrs Charles cleared her throat. "I just remembered that I have to speak to Sarah about your sister's room, Elizabeth. I will be back in a moment."
Liz nodded, and Mrs Charles left the room, leaving Liz and William all by themselves.
William looked at Liz anxiously. "You should not have done that, Elizabeth," he said in a soft voice.
"I should not have done what, Mr Price," she answered, playing with her necklace nervously.
"You should not have got up for my sake. I would feel very bad knowing that it did you harm."
"As I said before, I could not let you leave without saying goodbye," she answered. "And then I wanted to see if you are well, after all that happened yesterday. I am glad you did not get hurt."
After all that happened yesterday? Does she know? But who told her? Stop worrying, William, a lot of things happened yesterday, she does not mean Searle's death.
She looked into his eyes. "We have known each other a few weeks only, but..."
"...it seems as if it has been a lifetime," William finished the sentence.
She blushed. "True, that was what I was going to say."
"I know." He smiled at her. "You once told me you would like to read my mind, remember? Well, the truth is, I think you can. At least...we think alike in many things."
He took her hand. "Elizabeth, if this were not my last day in Cranston...if we had more time...there would be so many things I would want to tell you, but..."
He paused, looking in her eyes. "I do not think it is the right moment now, so I'd better leave them unsaid. Just let me say that much, Elizabeth...I hope you will not forget me when I am gone."
"How could I?" she answered, and he noticed that tears were in her eyes.
"Do not cry, Elizabeth, not because of me. That is one thing I'd never want you to do."
He took out his handkerchief to wipe away her tears, and gave her a cheerful smile while doing so.
"After all, I will be back."
"But then I will not be in Cranston any more, Mr Price." She said this so sadly...it nearly broke his heart.
He gave her a searching look. "That does not necessarily mean that we will not meet any more, Elizabeth, or do you have any doubt?"
She looked at him earnestly, thinking for a moment. "No, I do not doubt it," she said then, smiling.
The door opened, and Mrs Charles came back. "Elizabeth, you know what you promised me."
Liz smiled and rose. "I know, Mrs Charles. Mr Price, I wish you all the best for your journey, and take care of yourself, will you? Where are you going, do you know already?"
"To the Mediterranean, Miss Martin, and do not worry, I will take good care of myself."
He took her hand and kissed it, looking into her eyes one last time.
"I will always remember you, Miss Martin. Please do me the favour and get better soon. I cannot be easy knowing that there is anything wrong with you. Good bye!"
"Good bye, Mr Price!"
Then William took his leave of Mrs Charles, and left, while Mrs Charles took Liz back to her room.