The Two Women
Curiously quiet the house seemed to be as, in the cold, grey light,
Violet Forster made the best of her way along the passage. At the head
of the great staircase she paused; now it was possible to see; she
wondered which was the stair on which, in the darkness, she had caught
her heel in her draperies and stumbled. Her ankle was better, yet, in
spite of the caution with which she descended, it gave her a twinge at
every tread. How comfortless, how even ghostly the great hall seemed,
as the first glimmer of the day came shimmeringly through the painted
windows!
At the foot of the stairs she stopped--to listen. A curious quality
which was in the air seemed to affect her nerves, which were already
sufficiently highly strung; she was affected by the feeling which she
had had in the darkness that there was someone in the hall already. She
went out into it to look about her; there was no one to be seen,
certainly nothing to be heard; she told herself that it was utter
nonsense to suppose that anybody was watching her. It was not yet broad
day, but there was light enough to render it difficult for anyone to
keep from being seen, unless someone was cowering down behind one of
the tall chairs, or hiding behind a hanging. She had a mind to search
behind each piece of furniture, behind each curtain; she might have
done it, too, had it not been that her foot rendered movement very far
from easy. Ordinarily she would have peered into every nook and cranny
in a dozen seconds; it might take her minutes as things were.
Realising that her doubts meant waste of time, she moved towards the
chest under its velvet cover. She lifted the cover, had it nearly off,
was about to raise the lid when--was that a sound? With one hand upon
the velvet, the other on the chest, she stood and listened; this time
her fancy was not playing her tricks, it was a sound. Someone was
coming down the stairs, quickly, yet quietly--who could it be? On the
instant she let the cover fall back into its place; with a rapidity of
which a moment before she had not thought she could have been capable,
she slipped behind a long curtain which hung against the wall,
suspended to a rod, which could be moved at will so as to form a sort
of cosy corner; but quick though her movements had been, they had not
been at all too fast. No sooner was she behind the curtain than she
became conscious that someone had come down into the hall, and had done
as she had done--stopped to take a good look round. Then the footsteps
began again; they seemed to be moving directly towards where she was;
they were--she was sure they were each instant coming closer. She held
her breath; what did it mean? Could she have been observed? Even if she
had been, it seemed impossible that her retreat behind the curtain
could have been noticed. And yet--the footsteps were making straight
for where she was. Her impulse was to come out before she was
discovered; she was about to do it, when the footsteps again were
still.
A thought all at once occurred to her which diverted her mind into very
different channels; was it possible that the new-comer's errand was the
same as hers had been, with the old chest as an objective? That would
mean that someone had been in the hall when Major Reith had switched on
the single light; that her suspicions had been well founded, that there
had been some interested watcher who had seen what she had put in the
chest.
In that case the person who was within a foot or two of her, on the
other side of the curtain, was probably the interested watcher. Whoever
it was must be standing very close to the chest; was possibly, at that
very moment, raising the velvet cover; would in a second or two have
lifted the lid, and taken out the bag. What was she to do? It was a
very knotty problem which so suddenly confronted Miss Forster in her
hiding-place.
One thing seemed clear--that it was in the highest degree essential
that she should know who it was with whom she had to deal. As matters
stood the position was too one-sided. If her proceedings with the bag
had been witnessed, then she had been recognised; but while her
identity was known to someone, she had not the dimmest notion who that
someone was. Since, in a sense, she was at someone's mercy, it was
surely of the first importance that she should know whose. It might
be--in an instant half a dozen different names flashed through her
mind; any one of half a dozen persons might hold her--should it be
written reputation?--in the hollow of a hand. The thought was
unbearable. She must know with whom she had to deal; she would.
This presentation of the problem to her mind occupied a scarcely
appreciable space of time; thoughts move quickly. To her it seemed
longer than it was, for while she considered the position, what was
being done on the other side of the curtain?
She heard something; when she had begun to raise the lid, she had been
conscious that it creaked, though ever so slightly; that was a creaking
she heard, which meant----
She did not stop to tell herself what it meant; there was an end of
thinking; she decided before she knew it. Brushing the curtain aside,
she stepped from behind it.
Whom she had expected to see she could not have said; she had told
herself that it might be any one of half a dozen; yet when she saw who
was there she knew it was the one she had expected.
A woman was bending over the chest; she had the velvet cover raised,
and the lid an inch or two; she had come on the scene at what had been
delicate moment for Violet Forster, and that young lady had returned
the compliment in kind. She retained her presence of mind in a very
creditable manner. One felt as one looked at her that she might be used
to being found in delicate positions. She said nothing, but she never
moved--she kept just still, and she looked Miss Forster in the face
with eyes which betrayed no hint of nervousness. Even the scornful
something which was in Miss Forster's tone when she did speak, did not
seem to cause her the least discomfort.
"I thought it was you."
"Did you really?"
The thing was said so demurely that it was hard to tell from the tone
alone if the intention was to be impertinent.
"What are you doing there?"
"I was just going to see what it was that I saw you put in this chest
last night."
"So you did see? I thought that also--I begin to understand."
There was something in the girl's tone which the other seemed to
resent.
"I confess I don't; but I hope to presently. Pray, miss, what do you
begin to understand?"
"You were in league with him last night; you were--his confederate."
"His confederate, Miss Forster! What do you mean? With whom was I in
league?"
"Oh, you do it very well; I've no doubt that this is the sort of thing
in which practice has made you perfect. Now I understand how you came
to be in possession of my locket."
The woman seemed to have a trick of repeating the girl's words.
"How I came to be in possession of your locket? I don't understand,
Miss Forster, what you are talking about; will you please to make
yourself plainer? I never did like insinuations."
"Was he concealed in the house last night, or did you let him in? But
you must have seen him earlier in the day, or you could hardly have had
the locket when you did."
It was a second or two before the other answered; when she did, it was
in a tone which hinted resentment at Miss Forster's manner.
"I don't understand you, Miss Forster, but I should like you to
understand me clearly. I was awakened early this morning by hearing
someone running along the passage outside my room. Thinking someone
might be ill, I got up to see if I could be of any use; I just caught
sight of the skirt of a woman, who seemed to be running for all she was
worth. And I heard a queer noise coming from downstairs; I waited,
thinking it would stop, but as it continued, and kept getting queerer,
I thought I would go down and see what was the matter. I came down in
the hall here, and it was pitch dark; there wasn't a sound, and I was
more than half afraid, and told myself I was a fool for coming. Then I
heard someone coming down the staircase as if he didn't want to be
heard. I said to myself that what was going on was probably no business
of mine, and I tried to get away; but before I had a chance, someone
came down into the hall, passing me so close that her skirts touched me
as she passed."
Miss Forster interposed.
"I had a feeling all the while that there was someone there, but my
ankle was so painful that all I could think of was finding something to
lean upon."
"Of course I didn't know who it was----"
"I suppose not."
"How could I? The feel of the skirts told me it was a woman, and I
fancied from the way she moved, that she must have hurt herself; but I
couldn't see, and though I don't mind owning that I wondered what was
up, I didn't want to be caught in what looked like prying, though no
idea of doing anything of the kind had entered my head, and my one wish
was to get quietly away. Then something did happen which took my breath
away."
"What was that? I should imagine you are not the kind of person whose
breath is easily taken away."
"I heard someone, who, I had no doubt, was a man from the noise he
made, come rushing along, though I couldn't think from where. I heard
him go rushing towards the someone who had just passed me, and I heard
him speak to her."
"That's a lie, not a word was spoken."
"Then if that's so, I must have dreamt it, and it's one of the funniest
dreams I ever had; because I thought I heard him say, 'Here it is, take
it. Look out--there's someone coming!' In my dream I heard him say it
as plainly as I hear myself speaking now."
"Each word you utter makes me understand you more clearly."
"That's what I want you to do, miss; to understand me. Then off this
whoever it was went tearing, and along came somebody else, who turned
on one of the lights, and I saw it was a tall, middle-aged gentleman,
with a moustache. I got down behind a chair, so that I couldn't hear
quite all that you said to each other; then he went off, and you took
something which was under a cushion on the seat of the chair by which
you were. I could see that it was a leather bag, and I said to myself,
'That's what that other party gave her,' who I'd heard speaking in my
dream. You put the bag in the chest by which I am standing, and when
you went after that tall gentleman, I wondered what it was; but, as
I've said, it wasn't any business of mine, and I didn't like to take
the liberty of looking."
"I appreciate the feelings by which you were actuated."
"But when, as I did later, I heard about all that lot of jewellery
which had been stolen from the different ladies' rooms, that set me
thinking. Miss Forster, would you mind my seeing what is in the bag
which you put inside this chest, which you came downstairs to give the
man I never saw a chance of passing on to you? Do you mind?"
The woman stood with her hand resting on the chest as if she waited for
the girl's permission to raise the lid.
"I perceive," said Miss Forster, "now, for the first time, what a
dangerous woman you really are. Do you actually suppose me to be so
simple as to be taken in by your acting?"
"Explain yourself, Miss Forster, as plainly as I've explained myself to
you. If you'll excuse my saying so, I'm only a servant, but I've got my
character to lose--there's something in your tone that I don't like."
"What was your last situation, Jane Simmons?"
"Never you mind what was my last situation, but I was in it for seven
years, and a seven years' character is good enough for anyone."
"You expect me to believe that also?"
"I don't care what you believe. May I see what's in the bag that you
put inside this chest?"
"Am I also expected to believe that you don't know from whom that bag
came?"
"I know it was a man, but who he was I know no more than a babe unborn.
Am I to see what's in it, or would you like me to ring the bell and let
others have a look?"
"Can't you realise what a foolish game you're playing? You're seeming
to suggest that I was associated with what I have no doubt was an act
of wholesale robbery; I know that you were."
"You know that I was what?"
"You call yourself Jane Simmons, but I don't suppose that that's your
name; you probably assumed it when you entered this house."
"Well, I never did."
"You talk about being seven years in one situation. I doubt if you ever
did any honest work in your life. I believe you to be a thief, and the
associate of thieves; I have no doubt that what took place last night
was carefully planned by you and your confederates; and you have the
assurance to stand there and pretend that you think that I was
associated with it, in any way whatever."
"Oh, that's it, is it? Now you have spoken plain, now I do understand
what you are driving at. Miss Forster, I will rouse the household, and
I'm going to tell them what I saw you do; and you'll be able to
explain, if you're as innocent as you're trying to make out, why you
hid that there bag inside this chest, and who it was that gave it to
you; then we'll see."
"We shall. My record is known to every person in this house; I'll have
careful inquiries made into yours--you will be able to give details
about that situation in which you stayed for seven years; how you will
come out of such an inquiry, you know better than I. You foolish woman!
To think that sheer impudence will enable you to win at such a game of
bluff; don't you know perfectly well that the attempt to fasten your
guilt on me will make matters much worse for you?"
For some seconds there was silence; the woman by the chest seemed to be
summing Miss Forster up. She did not change countenance, the smile did
not fade from her eyes; yet, somehow, something seemed to have fallen
from her; she seemed to have ceased to play the part of servant, and to
have become a different creature altogether. When she spoke again it
was very quietly, coldly, as if she were measuring the meaning of each
word before she allowed it to pass her lips.
"Suppose, Miss Forster, that I do not alarm the household, what then?"
"I am afraid that I don't quite grasp your meaning."
"Oh, I'll make it plain enough; you and I had better be plain with each
other--it will be good for both of us. There's a leather bag inside
this chest; what's going to become of it?"
"It depends on what it contains."
"Oh, you know what it contains; there's jewels in that bag worth
fortunes."
"And you ask me what is to become of it; you have that courage?"
"I even have courage to ask it again; if I don't alarm the household,
what is to become of that bag?"
"Its contents will be returned to their various owners."
"By whom?"
"By me."
"Oh, I see; and where do I come in?"
"I rather fancy that will be a point for the consideration of the
police."
"Oh, that's what you fancy, is it? Now again we are beginning to
understand each other. Does that mean that you're going to give me
away? If it does, let me beg you to be careful; you'll be giving
yourself away much more than you'll be giving me; just think."
"Are you now suggesting that I have been in collusion with you?"
The woman smiled as if the question had been a funny one; the girl
could not but see that the smile became her, and that she was not
ill-looking.
"Hardly; I can assure you that you are not the sort of person I should
choose as a partner if I wanted one; but I was serious when I said to
you 'Just think.' For instance, you saw the person who came rushing
into the hall last night, and unwillingly left in your charge that
leather bag; you have to think of that. You recognised him, didn't
you?"
"Who told you so?"
"He did."
The girl started; for the first time something which the other had said
had gone home.
"When did he tell you?"
"I didn't time it, but I should say about a minute afterwards."
"Then you saw him again?"
The woman raised her eyebrows, as if with a faint surprise.
"Of course I did. I went straight to where he was; I knew where to find
him. The first thing he said to me was, 'Vi Forster saw me.'"
"He said that to you?"
"His very words. I said to him, 'You don't mean that she recognised
you?' 'She did,' he said. 'Then,' I said, 'we're in the soup.' 'She's
got the bag,' he groaned; I could see that that was what worried him
more than the recognition. Then something happened which turned his
attention in another direction. You know as well as I do that the man
who came into the hall with the bag, which he dropped on to the seat of
that chair in his surprise at the sight of you, was Sydney Beaton."