I HEAR STRANGE CONFIDENCES
BUT when she sat down she did not appear able to speak. Twice she opened
her lips, but it seemed that no words would come.
“Don’t tell me unless you want to, Mrs. McNab,” I said, pitying the
poor, strained face. “You are just tired out, and I know that your hand
is hurting. Do rest quietly on my bed for a little while, and I will
dress it.”
To my surprise, she did not resist me. She let me put her on my bed,
lying silently, with closed eyes, while I dressed her hand and bandaged
it freshly. Then I had a new inspiration.
“Please don’t move,” I said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I ran down to the kitchen and made some strong coffee. Julia was there,
sewing. She wanted to relieve me of the task altogether, and insisted on
getting the tray ready.
“I’d not say ‘no’ to a cup, meself, miss, if you could spare it,” she
said. “This place do be gettin’ on me nerves. There’s the misthress
goin’ about all this day lookin’ like a walkin’ ghost—up an’ down the
stairs an’ in an’ out like a dog at a fair. Is it for her you’re makin’
the coffee now? But it’ll get cold on you before she comes in.”
I opened my mouth to say that Mrs. McNab was in my room; and then
changed my mind suddenly.
“Why do you say that, Julia?”
“Sure I’m afther seein’ her with me two eyes, goin’ out ten minutes ago.
Slippin’ along by the back wall she was, in her grey gown, as if she
didn’t want to be seen. I was comin’ in from the laundry, an’ me heart
rose in me throat at the sight of her—though the dear knows I’ve a
right to be used to seein’ her creepin’ round the place. If she’d so
much as pass the time of day to one, I’d not think her so queer; but
’tis like a silent grey ghost she is—never a worrd out of her. What
with that, an’ the thieves that may pay us a visit anny minute, it’s no
right place to be in: I’d take me pay an’ go, if it wasn’t for yourself
an’ Mrs. Winter.”
“Oh, you mustn’t do that, Julia,” I said, trying to speak lightly. “When
anyone is working as hard as Mrs. McNab she can’t interrupt herself to
talk. As for the thieves, I believe they are well out of the district;
remember, the police are watching for them everywhere now.”
“Yerra, the polis!” said Julia, with much scorn. “Is it the polis you’d
be puttin’ your dependence on, miss? Sure, as Bence says, they’re too
busy tryin’ to catch poor motor-drivers to be doin’ anny real worrk. Dr.
Firth’s seen the lasht of them jools of his, you mark my words. ’Tis
meself was in Ireland when all the fightin’ was goin’, but I never felt
as quare an’ lonesome as I do in this place.”
I poured her out a cup of coffee.
“Just drink that and you’ll feel better, Julia,” I said. “I’m not going
to be scared of any thieves, and I don’t believe you are, either. I’ll
take up a little saucepan: if Mrs. McNab isn’t back I can warm up her
coffee on my spirit-lamp when she does come in.”
But I knew, as I carried the tray away, that it was not Mrs. McNab whom
Julia had seen slinking by the wall. Ronald Hull must have come down the
stairs very softly while we had talked in my room. I wondered what he
was doing, out in the night.
Mrs. McNab had not moved, and for a moment I fancied that she was
asleep. But she stirred as I came near her, and drank her coffee as
though she were thirsty.
“That was very good,” she said, lying back. “You are a very kind child
to me: my own daughter does not think of such things. It is a shame to
burden you with my troubles.”
I told her not to worry about that. “Indeed,” I said, “I have been more
uneasy about you for some days than I am now. Ever since I have seen
more of you, in looking after your burnt hand, I knew something was
troubling you terribly, and I have been so anxious.”
“Was it so plain?” she sighed heavily. “I have done my best to seem
cheery and normal, but it has been hard; and all to-day I have felt
almost as if I were going mad. I think and think, until my brain feels
as though it were whirling in a circle.”
She lit a cigarette and smoked for a few moments without speaking.
“Oh, I must tell you!” she exclaimed. “Now that I have once spoken I
must go on and tell all. Your brain is young and clear, and you may be
able to think of a way out.”
“It won’t do any harm to talk it over, at all events,” I said, trying to
speak comfortingly. But I felt appallingly young and helpless, and I
wished with all my heart that Dr. Firth or Colin could be there.
“It is these robberies,” she said. “I had no peace before they took
place—but since then I have been in torment. I ask myself
ceaselessly—_Who is the thief?_ And only one answer comes to me.”
Light flashed upon me.
“You don’t think—you surely don’t think—your brother . . . ?”
“I do not know what to think. Nothing like this has ever before occurred
in our quiet neighbourhood. And stealing is nothing to him—we have had
bitter proof of that. He needs money: I have raised all I can, to give
him a fresh start when he gets away, but he grumbles at the amount and
says it is not enough. Night after night he goes out, declaring that he
must have fresh air and exercise, and I do not know where he goes. I
have questioned him, but he only laughs at me. He knows his power over
me—that I will not betray him—and he takes the fullest advantage of
it.”
With all my heart I yearned for Colin to deal with Mr. Ronald Hull.
Mrs. McNab leaned forward, crushing her cigarette between her fingers.
“And the danger is immediate,” she said. “If any trail brings the police
and the black trackers to The Towers or its neighbourhood, they may
insist on searching the house. Even if Ronald denied it, I would not
feel sure—he has lied so often. I do not know what to do.”
“You would not tell your son?”
“Tell Harry? I could not bear to do it. He is only a boy, and we have
managed to keep from him all knowledge of his uncle’s disgrace: it would
cast a shadow over his whole life. And I do not see how he could help
me. No one can help. If I could get Ronald away to Adelaide at once—but
he dares not go until the ship is ready to sail, for in any city he runs
a grave risk of recapture. And there is nowhere else that I can hide
him. It seems to me that I must get him out of The Towers
immediately—but where can he go? Everything has worked against me—even
this hand, with its wretched little injury that makes me half helpless.
I had planned to take him up the coast myself in the small launch; with
his aid I could have run it up to Southport, and hired some man to help
me back. But there is no chance of that now.”
“Couldn’t I help?” I asked. “I know a good deal about running the
launch.”
She shook her head.
“You are very good. But I could not drag you into it. And, besides, it
is not time to go. The next ten days are my great difficulty: I simply
must send him away from The Towers. Picture his being found here!—with
all this party in the house; the disgrace; the publicity for the boys
and girls in my care. Beryl and Harry would never forgive me. It would
ruin their lives; Harry could never go back to the University.”
I saw that, and my sense of helplessness increased. To drag young Harry
McNab into this tangle, just at the commencement of his manhood, was not
to be thought of. I suggested Dr. Firth, but Mrs. McNab recoiled from
the idea in horror.
“But he is the very man who has been robbed! He is kind, I know, but he
is only human—how could I expect help from him! He would be the first
to hand Ronald over to the police.”
And then a bright idea came to me.
“Mrs. McNab—what about Shepherd’s Island?”
“Shepherd’s Island!” she repeated, dully. “I don’t understand. You
mean——?”
“To hide your brother. Very few people ever go there now, your son told
me: no stock are taken there for grass this year, and the awkward
landing keeps picnic parties away. The hut is quite weather-proof: he
could be comfortable enough there.”
“I would not care if he were not comfortable,” said Mrs. McNab solemnly.
Something in her tone revealed what she had endured at the hands of her
refugee. “But—anyone might land there: he would not be secure.”
“But he isn’t secure anywhere. He might be found here at any moment, and
then, as you say, all the household would be dragged into it. It would
be no worse for him, if he should be caught, to be caught away from The
Towers; and in that case no one need know his real name. And he could
watch—he would have to watch; if he saw a boat coming he could easily
hide among the rocks; they’re full of holes and little caves. We could
leave him a good supply of food, and take more over to him at night. And
when the news of the ship comes it would be easy to take him off the
island and run him down to Southport.”
She stared at me as if I were an angel from heaven.
“You blessed child!” she uttered, “I believe he would indeed be safer
there than anywhere. But how would I get him there? I am so useless
now.”
I was warming to my idea.
“You and I could take him. I can run the launch with a little help—just
what you could give me with your good hand. Dear Mrs. McNab, it’s quite
simple! We could take all your tinned foods down to the launch—Mr. Hull
could help, of course—with rugs and blankets. He ought to hide
everything in the rocks during the day, in case of anyone’s landing on
the island. I should think he would welcome the chance of being there,
after having been shut up in the Tower rooms for so long. And then you
could laugh at policemen and black trackers, even if they came in
swarms!”
She drew a long breath.
“It would be like heaven to think he was out of the house!” she said.
“Oh, I have been desperate all day! But it is not right—not fair—to
bring you into it. What would your brother say?”
I knew very well that Colin would say a good deal, but it did not seem
worth while to dwell on that point.
“Colin would help if he were here,” I said. “And as he isn’t it’s right
for me to help. I don’t run any risk—but if Mr. Hull is found in The
Towers, think of what it means to your four children! And if he is on
the island you will be in peace at night, knowing that he is not roaming
about.”
“Yes,” she said—“yes! I would not wake each morning in dread of hearing
of fresh robberies.”
“Well, you might hear of them, all the same—which would be a sort of
comfort to you, because you would know that your suspicions had been
wrong. And it would not surprise me if they _were_ all wrong—surely a
man who is already in dread of the police would not deliberately do new
things that would bring them on his track! It isn’t common sense!”
“It would be a comfort to think that,” she said. “I have tried to think
it. But he is so foolhardy—so difficult to understand! My dear, the
more I think of your plan, the more hopeful I feel. Surely on that
lonely island he would be safer than he is here!”
“Why, of course he would. And every one in the house would be safer too.
Do make up your mind to take him over, Mrs. McNab. Let us go to-night!”
“To-night!” she uttered. “But it is already very late. I—I have not had
time to think—to plan.”
“But there really isn’t much to plan. There is moonlight enough to make
everything easy: we have only to get the things down to the shore as
soon as everyone is in bed. Mr. Hull could change into his own clothes
in one of the bathing-boxes when we are ready to start. The launch is
all in order; the children and I were running her this afternoon, and
there is plenty of petrol. There could not be a better chance. For all
we know the black trackers may be here in the morning.”
She shuddered.
“Indeed they may. That possibility has been burning into my mind all
day.”
“Well, then, we won’t have anyone here for them to find. Have you much
food upstairs?”
“Quite enough for a week, with care, I think,” she said. “He would not
starve, at all events: and there is fresh water on the island. He could
catch fish, too: if he made a fire among the rocks and cooked fish at
night, no one would see the smoke. There would be no difficulty or risk
about his being there unless anyone landed.”
“And that risk is less than his being here. Remember, too, even if a
picnic party saw him, they would probably think he was a lonely camper
and would scarcely notice him. The police are not likely to think of
going there—no boats will be missing and thieves could not reach the
island without a boat.”
“No,” she agreed. “Well, no course that I can adopt is without danger;
but I do believe that your plan holds less risk than any other. If he is
captured I cannot help it—at least, I shall have done my best. I will
go and tell him; I do not think that he will make any objection.”
I had a moment’s horror after she had gone, for I suddenly remembered
that Mr. Hull had gone out—perhaps he was still away, roaming in the
bush or on the shore: perhaps—who could say?—visiting some other house
as Dr. Firth’s had been visited the night before. Then all my excellent
plans would be upset, and we should have to take our chance of what the
morrow might bring. But I hardly had time to worry much over this
possibility when Mrs. McNab came hurrying back.
“He will go,” she said. “Keep a watch, Miss Earle, and come and tell us
when every one has gone to bed.”