Fear by Night (26 page)

“Everybody'll tell you I've been a good son, and a good son makes a good husband. So, as I'm saying, I'm wanting to settle down. I've been in a way of trade that's a bit risky, and I'm wishful to cut loose from it and settle down quiet and happy.” He paused, as if for a reply. When none came, he cleared his throat and said, “How does that strike you?”

Ann felt the approach of panic. She said hastily,

“Mr. Halliday, I think you're making a mistake.”

Jimmy shook his head.

“I wouldn't have spoken if I hadn't felt clear about it. There's no mistake about it. I've never got as far as asking a young lady to marry me before, but that's what I'm doing now, and there's no mistake about it. I'm asking you to marry me, Miss Vernon, and you needn't be afraid I won't make a good husband.”

Ann went back a step until she touched the window. Now they were coming to it. There had to be a struggle between them, and she didn't know how it was going to end. She drew a long breath and said,

“Mr. Halliday—why do you want to marry me?”

Something in her tone gave Jimmy pause. He looked at her, and looked away.

“You're a young lady that I've got a great respect for.”

Ann nodded.

“I hope so. But that doesn't explain why you want to marry me. As a matter of fact, you don't really want to marry me at all.”

Jimmy Halliday's expression changed.

“Oh, I don't, don't I? Then why do you suppose I'm asking you? I don't do that sort of thing for fun—by gum, I don't! There's been girls and plenty that'd have been only too pleased to hear me say what I've been saying to you—and they'd have given me a pleasant answer too. A young lady that is a young lady don't tell a man he's made a mistake when he asks her to marry him—she gives him a proper civil answer, that's what she does.”

Ann caught her hands together and stood up straight.

“Then thank you very much, Mr. Halliday—and the answer is no.”

Jimmy gazed admiringly at the brightness of her eyes and the burning colour in her cheeks. She reminded him of a squirrel he had tamed, and how it had bitten his finger before he had trained it to eat out of his hand. He had no fear but that he could tame Ann too. If, like the squirrel, she bit him first, it would all add zest to the game. He had got over his bashfulness and was beginning to enjoy himself. He came a step nearer.

“Come, come now—you don't expect me to take an answer like that, do you? Why, if it wasn't for nothing else, didn't I save your life no further back than yesterday? And look here, my dear, haven't you still got a life to be saved? And wouldn't you rather be my wife than what Gale would make of you if he had his way?”

Ann could not go any farther back. She could feel the cold glass of the window against her shoulder-blades. She said,

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Halliday?”

Jimmy came closer. He dropped his voice.

“I'm not—but Gale is. You needn't let him know I told you. I could see you didn't swallow what he said just now, but don't you be afraid, my dear—you'll be all right with me to look after you.”

Ann made a desperate throw.

“He wants to kill me—and I know why. Do you understand? I know why. I know about my uncle's money, and I know why Mr. Anderson wants to kill me, and why you want to marry me. No, listen to this! I
know
. And I want to tell you something. I suppose Mr. Anderson can kill me, but if my uncle is dead, it won't do him any good—will it? I suppose he can kill me—but you can't make me marry you, so it's no good trying.”

Jimmy smiled pleasantly.

“Well now—just to think of that!” He slid an arm round her. “Come, come, my dear, give us a kiss, and we'll see about it.”

Ann put both hands against his chest and pushed. It was like pushing against stone. She said in a hard whisper,

“Your mother's upstairs. I'm going to scream.”

“Are you now? What for?”

“Let go of me at once, or I
will
scream!”

He patted her shoulder and withdrew a pace.

“Now, now—easy does it! You're being foolish. Say you scream and the old lady comes down—do you think she'll be pleased when she finds out I've been asking you to marry me? I tell you she'll be fit to scratch your eyes out. And when she hears you've said no—do you think that's going to please her? Not much!” He slapped his leg. “No, by gum! She'll be fit to tear your hair out for not appreciating me!”

“It's quite useless, Mr. Halliday. Please let me go.”

He withdrew a little.

“You can go if you like—I'm not stopping you. I thought maybe you'd like news of your friend.”

Ann stiffened herself. He had come to the point at last. All that had gone before was only a preparation for this.

She said, “What do you mean?” and was thankful that she had not to meet his answer unprepared. If she had not waked in the night and looked out of the window—

Jimmy's voice cut across her thought.

“Well now, I'm afraid I've got to give you a bit of a shock—about that friend of yours that I was mentioning just now.”

Ann turned and faced him. Now that it had come, she felt strong. It was the waiting that had made her feel as if her knees might give way under her at any moment—the waiting, and his horrible love-making. In a battle of wits she felt more sure of herself. And yet she mustn't make the mistake of under-rating Jimmy Halliday. He looked stupid, but he wasn't so stupid as he looked.

She said, “A friend of mine?” in as incredulous a voice as she could manage.

Jimmy stood about a yard away from her with his hands in his pockets.

“Isn't Mr. Anstruther a friend of yours?”

“Charles? Yes.”

There was something comforting about being able to say his name. It seemed to bring him nearer and set up a defence between her and Jimmy Halliday.

“Oh yes, by gum! Well, my dear, your friend Mr. Anstruther—he's had a nasty accident, and we've had to bring him here to get over it.”

“Charles—here! Is he hurt?” She did not have to act the anxiety which shook her voice.

“Hurt? Well, nothing to speak of. You know those bends in the road up there?” He jerked an elbow towards the hills. “No—you'd hardly have noticed them coming down in the dark. Well, it seems he didn't notice them either, or not enough, for he'd gone clear over the cliff at the second one, and we found him pinned down under his car not able to move.”

Ann's blood ran cold. She saw the foggy night, the sharp bend, and Charles going over the edge, with the heavy car falling on him, pinning him down. Perhaps he was dead. She said with dry lips,

“Mr. Halliday—is he hurt—
please
?”

She had taken an involuntary step forward. Jimmy patted her familiarly on the shoulder.

“Now, now—there's no need for you to take on. The car had turned clear over on him, and if he'd had an arm or a leg in the way, they wouldn't have be much use to him again, to say nothing of his head. But as it turned out, there he was, sweet and sound like the kernel in a nut, except maybe for a bit of bruise or two.”

Jimmy pulled himself up and stepped back. He oughtn't to have said that last bit—no, by gum, he oughtn't! He'd let himself get carried away. He made haste to get back to his book.

“Of course he was knocked right out when we found him. Why, out there in the fog and all we didn't know but what he was dead, so we took him up and brought him along to a sort of store-house I've got for business purposes, and—well, you see, that's just where it gets a bit awkward.”

Ann's eyes opened to their widest.

“Why?”

Jimmy scratched his head and looked sheepish.

“Well, the fact is—well, see here, I told you my business was a bit risky. That's why I want to get out of it and settle down. Well, the fact is”—he came closer and dropped his voice to a confidential tone—“well, the fact is, Mr. Anstruther not being dead after all, he's in a position to make things a bit awkward.”

“He
wouldn't
,” said Ann. “Oh, Mr. Halliday, he
wouldn't
—not if you let us go.”

Jimmy's light eyebrows drew together. From under them he looked at her with shrewd suspicion.

“Here, here, here!” he said.

“We'll both promise not to tell,” said Ann—“we will really.”

Jimmy dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Here, what's all this?” he said roughly. “What is this you could tell? Seems to me you've been listening at doors or something! D'you know what happens to folks that pry into what don't concern them?”

“Mr. Halliday—”

His hand closed on her in a hard grip.

“What d'you know?”

“Mr. Halliday—

He shook her a little.

“Don't you go on saying that! You answer me when I speak to you, and listen when I want you to listen! And now I want you to listen. Your friend Charles has got to know more than is good for him, and my friend Gale he wants to out him. I'm not mincing any words with you, because you're going to be my wife, and I believe in plain speaking between man and wife. Gale wants to put this Charles of yours out of the way, and up to the present I'm standing between them. I don't want Anstruther killed if he can be made safe without. To my thinking there's only one way he can be made safe. Once you're my wife, I'll take his word that he won't do anything to get your husband into trouble. If he's fond of you, he won't want to bring trouble on you—and once we're married, he can't bring trouble on me without bringing it on you.”

Ann was suddenly, coldly afraid. Every word that Jimmy said had the ring of truth, and every word was alive. If she hadn't known the truth, she would have believed him without question. She had under-valued Jimmy's intelligence, and it was the knowledge of this that frightened her. She must be very careful. She must have time to think and plan. Jimmy mustn't know that she didn't believe him. His story about Charles was a very clever one. If she hadn't known that she was to be married for Elias Paulett's money, and that Charles was being used as a lever to make her consent, she would certainly have believed Jimmy. She must have time to think. She looked up at him and said in a low, shaken voice,

“Please let me go—
please
! I must think. I must—oh,
please
, Mr. Halliday!”

Jimmy released her. He was very well pleased with himself. He thought it would be as well to let his words sink in, and he didn't want the old lady to come down and find him here with Ann. All the same, he meant to have a kiss before she went. Nothing like a good hearty kiss to bring a girl round.

Ann had her hand on the door when his arms came round her, pinning hers. She could not move at all, and had therefore to endure Jimmy's hearty kiss, which alighted upon her averted cheek. They stood like that for a moment, Ann tense with fury, crushed between him and the door, her face pressed to the panelling. And then there came the sound of Mrs. Halliday's voice upon the stairs. Jimmy sprang back. Ann wrenched the door open and ran down into the kitchen.

Mrs. Halliday continued to descend the stairs.

CHAPTER XXXI

Ann ran as far as the kitchen door and then stopped to listen. The door was ajar. She must see Mary, but she must see her alone. She was trembling from head to foot with anger and disgust. She wanted to tear off her body and fling it away. She hated being a girl, and she was sick with fear about Charles. She pushed the door a little and looked round it. Mary was standing by the fire stirring something in a saucepan.

In an instant Ann was in the room and across the floor with the door shut behind her. In a whispering, hurrying voice she said,

“I must speak to you! Which is the safest place?”

Mary looked back over her shoulder with a face of fear. The lines showed that it was an old fear horribly quickened. The corners of her mouth twitched as she pointed to the back door.

“Rin oot tae the byre. I'll be wi' ye.”

‘Ann slipped into the yard, and felt safer. There was the back of the house and the hill that faced it, and to right and left cow-house and hen-houses. She ran into the byre and stood behind the door with her feet in rustling straw, hearing the slow contented champing of the little black cows and listening for Mary's step. It came at last, slow and reluctant. The door did not move, but Mary passed the narrow opening and put a hand on Ann's arm.

“What is't, lassie? Ye frichted me.”

Ann shuddered. Her own fear was as much as she could bear.

“Mary—will you help me? Please—
please
. They've got him here—Charles—and I think he's hurt. They say he has had an accident, but I think they made him have it. I saw them carrying him into the house last night, but when I got down to the kitchen there wasn't anyone there.” She brought her lips close to Mary's ear and whispered, “There was a hole in the wash-house floor. They've taken him down there. I hid in the copper and heard them come up. Oh, Mary, help me! He's down there under the stone, and I can't move the barrel—and he's
hurt
! Mary—you'll help me?”

Mary's clasp on Ann's arm became rigid. She said,

“Gude save us!”

“You'll help me?”

“I'm a deid woman if I do.”

Ann's heart gave a great jump. Then Mary
could
help her—and if she could, she must.

“Mary, please,
please
help me!”

Mary went on as if she had not heard.

“I'm no feared o' being deid, but I'm gey feared o' deein'—and ye've got tae dee afore ye're deid. Ay—I'm gey feared o' deein'.”

“He's down there, and he's hurt,” said Ann in a most piteous tone.