MR. RICHARD SURPRISES CHRIS.
At the first moment of finding herself alone with the madman, Chris
gave herself up for lost; for he carried in his hand a formidable
weapon--the table leg with which he had provided himself before leaving
his rooms. He did not, however, brandish it in the air, and then bring
it down upon her head, as, in the first impulse of terror, she had
fully expected.
So paralysed with fright was she, indeed, that she shut her eyes,
flinching under the expected blow. For she was standing with her back
against the little stage, with him in front of her, so that escape
seemed out of the question.
As the blow did not come, she opened her eyes and looked up; and
involuntarily, at the sight of Mr. Richard’s face, she uttered an
exclamation.
For he did not look ferocious or frenzied. He was regarding her with
just the expression of surprise and shy admiration which she might
have seen on the face of any other man of her acquaintance in the
circumstances. The only difference was that he did not, as another
man would have done, make any apologies. He stood looking at Chris as
if she had been a divinity; and she began to hope that she would be
able to persuade him, with very little trouble, to let her out. Indeed,
if it had not been for her vivid remembrance of the paroxysm of rage
into which she had seen him fall, on the occasion when he had flung
a missile at her through the window, she would have been absolutely
without any fear of him at all, so greatly did his melancholy face and
gentle manners outweigh with her the reports of his violence. He was so
quiet, that for her to assume a conciliatory manner was easy.
“May I have my lantern, please?” she asked, holding out her hand, and
still keeping her eyes rather watchfully fixed upon his face.
Bus he did not understand her, although he looked eagerly into her
face, as if trying to do so. Chris began to feel more nervous. She
looked towards the door and tried again.
“Won’t you, please, unlock the door, and let me go out?” she said,
emphasising her request by shyly touching the great key which was
swinging from his hand by the piece of rough string attached to its
handle.
To her great relief, his face lighted up, and he nodded. She began
instantly to move in the direction of the great barn door, and he
followed her very quietly. She had just fear enough left, on hearing
his footsteps behind her, to turn and wait for him, so that he might
walk by her side. This, however, rendered their progress very slow, for
he moved with such languid or unwilling steps, that it seemed to her
half an hour before they reached the end of the barn.
The attempts at conversation which she made to relieve the awkwardness
of the situation were, however, not very successful.
The first remark she made, which was upon the weather, elicited no
reply whatever from Mr. Richard. Then she turned towards him, and asked
in very distinct and deliberate tones whether he had ever been in the
barn before. She thought he seemed to understand the question, and that
the shake of the head he gave was his answer. But still he uttered no
word.
When they had come near the door, Mr. Richard stumbled, his feet having
been caught in a tangle of old rope and sacking which lay upon the
floor. The key fell from his hand. He did not appear to notice this,
however, although Chris heard the loud clang with which it touched the
brick floor.
“You have dropped the key,” she said, as he walked on.
As he took no notice still, she went down on her knees, groping among
the rubbish with which the place was strewn. He turned, and seemed to
look at her with surprise. But he did not ask her what she was looking
for.
“It’s the key. Don’t you see you have dropped the key?” she cried, her
alarm again roused by this apparently wilful obtuseness. “Please let me
have the lantern one moment.”
To her horror, he began to utter the strange sounds which she had
sometimes heard issuing from the east wing, and she was so much
shocked, that she instinctively put up her hands to her ears, while her
face assumed an expression of the utmost terror. Then Mr. Richard fell
into sudden silence. For a few seconds he stood looking at her as she
knelt on the ground; then he seated himself on an empty wine-case which
was among the lumber, put his head in his hands, and heaved a deep sigh.
At that moment, Chris caught sight of the key, which had fallen behind
a little heap of tins which had once contained tobacco. In snatching
it up she knocked it against one of the tins, making a great clatter.
But the noise appeared not to disturb the madman, who did not even
look up when Chris rose to her feet, although she trod on some ends of
board and set them rattling. She feared he was only pretending to be
unobservant, and that she should not be able to get to the door before
he made the attack upon her which his mysterious conduct led her to
expect.
She must, however, make the attempt and trust to her luck. She began
by taking two or three cautious steps; and then, when she was close to
him, she set off at a run. But she had hardly done so when he started
up and, uttering another of the weird cries which so much alarmed her,
came in pursuit, and reached the door as soon as she did.
Not all her self-command could help poor Chris to stifle the scream
which she had suppressed before. And then, remembering that after all
her screams were her best chance of escape, as the stable was so near
that one of the men might hear them, she put her mouth to the keyhole
of the door, and called loudly for help.
At once Mr. Richard put his hand over her mouth. For a moment she
could not move, she could not even try to cry out again. Remembering
his savage fury on the day when he had thrown the goblet out of the
window, she gave herself up for lost, believing that he would dash her
down senseless upon the hard floor. For a long time, as it seemed to
her, though it was really the work of a few seconds, he kept one hand
upon her mouth, and held both her hands with the other. He uttered
from time to time a curious sound, which was more like a low moan of
distress than a cry of fury, and though he held her so that it was
impossible for her to escape, she could not even fancy that he hurt her.
Her first impulse had been to shut her eyes; but when she found that
she had so far come to no harm in the hands of the lunatic, she
ventured to open them, and was instantly struck by the expression of
his face, which was infinitely sad, infinitely wistful, but absolutely
mild and kind.
In the position in which they stood, he could see the door of the barn,
while she could not. She had had only just time to realise that Mr.
Richard had no present intention of harming her, when she saw his eyes
glance quickly from her face to the door, while at the same time she
heard a slight noise behind her.
The next instant she found herself free, and looking round quickly to
find out the reason of this, she saw Mr. Bradfield’s face just as he,
after looking in at the door, withdrew his head quickly.
With another of the ear-piercing cries which could only proceed from a
madman, Mr. Richard rushed to the door, which was locked on the other
side before he could reach it. He hurled himself against the door, then
turned quickly to Chris, and took the key from her hand. He did not do
it roughly, however, even in his excitement, but gave her a deprecatory
look, as if asking her permission.
Then it came into the girl’s mind, by an extraordinary flash of
inspiration, born of intense excitement, that she had some power over
this wild and dangerous man, and that this was a time to use it. She
seemed to see in the same moment, first that he wanted to do some harm
to Mr. Bradfield, and secondly, that her influence might be able to
dissuade him from his purpose. So she put out her hand again for the
key, as she ran after him to the door. He was already trying to put it
into the lock.
“No, no!” she said eagerly, looking up into his face with eyes which
looked sweet in their pleading even by the weak light of the lantern
which he had snatched up again from the floor. “No. You are not to
try to hurt Mr. Bradfield. Now promise me you won’t. Please, please
promise!”
The effect of her entreaty was instantaneous. Mr. Richard’s hand fell
down by his side; the expression of his face changed from one of fierce
excitement to one of pleasure, and even of tenderness. Still he said
no word; and Chris, perplexed and rendered shy by his abrupt change of
manner, drew back a step, and looked down. With the key in the door,
she was no longer afraid. Besides, had not Mr. Bradfield seen her? And
although he had most unaccountably refrained from at once releasing her
from her perilous _tête-à-tête_ with the madman, he would surely send
some one else to do so, if he was too much afraid of Mr. Richard to do
it himself.
Not that she was in any hurry to be released. She could not help taking
a strong interest in this unhappy man, who, even in his mad frenzy,
stopped short of harming her, nay, even became gentle, in the midst of
his fury, at a word from her. Believing as she did, that more might
be done for him than had been done, in the way of lifting the cloud
which hung over his mind, she began to ask herself, as she stood there,
whether it would not be possible for her to help him to escape from the
confinement in which he was kept, to some place where he would have
the medical supervision which she was sure that his case demanded. As
this thought crossed her mind, she glanced up again at Mr. Richard, who
was leaning against the wall, and looking at her with eyes in which
it seemed to her that there was every moment less of madness and more
of an emotion which it touched while it alarmed her to see there. She
instantly made up her mind to try and help him.
Approaching him with some shyness, and taking care, without appearing
to do so, to keep the door well in sight, she asked, in a gentle and
persuasive voice, speaking in a very slow and deliberate manner, so
that he might understand her:
“Will you tell me, Mr. Richard, have you any friends you wish to go to?”
He watched her face intently, and she felt sure that he understood her
perfectly. A look of deeper sadness came into his face as he shook his
head.
“Why, then, do you want to escape?”
Although he said nothing in answer, Chris thought he understood this
question also. For his face, which was singularly expressive, instantly
clouded with a dark and angry look. It occurred to Chris that the
objects of his anger were the people who kept him in confinement. She
knew that mad people are credited with this feeling, and, indeed, Mr.
Richard had given very strong proofs of it.
Being rather alarmed, in spite of herself, by the sudden change which
came over his face at her last question, she drew back a step, turning
towards the door. He followed her, and took her left hand, which was
nearest to him, very gently in his, and by a little gesture, eloquent,
though silent, entreated her not to go yet. Chris began to tremble, not
with fear, but with pity. The expression of this poor fellow seemed to
her one of eloquent entreaty. Knowing, as she did, that he would soon
be back in the gloomy confinement of the east wing, she had not the
heart to leave him, as she rightly judged that he would have let her
do, if she had insisted.
Still, deep as one’s sympathy may be, it is an embarrassing thing to
find oneself locked up with a madman, and Chris found it hard to make
conversation for a person who never replied to her, except by nods and
shakings of the head, or by puzzled signs that she was not understood.
In this dilemma, she could not but be glad when at last she heard
footsteps outside. After trying the door, and finding it locked from
within, the newcomer having provided himself with a ladder from the
stables, entered the hay-loft at the top of the barn, and put his face
through the trap above their heads.
It was Stelfox.
At the sight of this man, Mr. Richard made at once for the door. But
Stelfox came down the ladder which led from the loft with surprising
agility, and seizing the gentleman by the arm, proceeded to struggle
with him. But Mr. Richard was more than his match, and he threw Stelfox
off, and again made for the door.
“Stop him, miss. For his own sake, stop him if you can,” cried Stelfox
to Chris, who was standing near the door, watching the struggle with
much anxiety.
She at once ran forward and lightly put her hand on Mr. Richard’s arm.
As Stelfox had expected, this was enough. It gave him time to approach
Mr. Richard from behind, to seize his arms, and to bind them together
in such a way that the madman was helpless.