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Authors: Dornford Yates

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BOOK: Fire Below
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She would, I believe, have questioned me till bedtime, but ten minutes later we came to a sudden valley with a falling stream at the bottom and, brown and white in the sunshine, a little old mill. Its waterwheel was silent, and the place seemed derelict; ivy was scrambling up its chimney-pots and tall grass leaned over the path which led to its door; but it was by no means a ruin, and the bulwarks of foliage about it made it so lovely a bower that I think that, once he had seen it, a painter would never have rested until he had done what he could to capture the scene.

‘They are there,’ said Lelia, pointing a slim, brown arm. ‘I left them in the old parlour that looks out upon the pond. I will not go with you now, because I must go to the village to get the file, but I shall be back in an hour. If you would bathe, I think you may do so safely, for nobody comes this way. But you will please be careful to bathe below the mill. I do not want to be tiresome, but–’

‘You are very sweet,’ said I. ‘I will not bathe in the pond. And now listen. If you should be asked, you took the telegram to the house and, seeing no one, you left it on the mat in the passage for Grieg or Andrew to find.’

She nodded intelligently…with her eyes fast upon the mill. Then – ‘Goodbye,’ she said softly, speaking half to herself.

‘“Goodbye”?’ said I. ‘But you are coming back, Lelia?’

‘Oh, yes, I am coming back to you – and your friends.’

With that she was gone.

When she was out of sight, I went down to the mill, and when I reached its doorway, I turned and looked back. Instantly Rowley appeared at the head of the dell…

As I might have expected, the telegram made me a message I could not read.

 

Palette two tubes vermilion two indigo noon.

 

One thing only it told me. That was that Grieg’s spy was playing the part of an artist to cover his dirty work. Their arrangement was simple. A list of painting materials had been turned into a code which if he had not before him, the most skilful of cipherers could not interpret one word of the messages sent. I regretted bitterly that when Grieg had been in our power we had not searched his pockets for any such document.

I handed it back to Rowley.

‘Burn this to ashes,’ said I. ‘And pick a place here from which you can keep a lookout. The river side is all right, but under the sound of the water a man could enter the building before we knew he was there.’

‘That’s right, sir,’ said Rowley.

‘And look out for – for Miss Lelia. She’s a heart of gold, and she’s coming back in an hour.’

With that, I stepped over the threshold and into the mill.

I found myself in a hall but a few feet square. A broken staircase faced me, and an open door on the left gave directly into the room where the grinders lay. If the parlour looked on to the pond, I knew it must lead from this room, and there, sure enough, was a door on the farther wall.

I was just about to approach it, when it was softly opened and Marya Dresden appeared.

Her manner was so striking that I stood still where I was, with no thought to spy upon her, but because I was taken aback by what I saw.

Her air was furtive, her movement that of a thief, and had her world been shattered, she could not have looked more listless or more forlorn. Her eyes that seemed always alight had lost their lustre, her body seemed heavy-laden, and she was plainly absorbed in the contemplation of grief.

She closed the door behind her and stood for a moment with one hand up to her lips. As she took a step forward, I spoke her name, but she did not hear my voice for the constant rush of the mill-race a few feet away.

Suddenly she saw me and started against the wall.

‘What is it, Marya?’ said I, and made to come to her side.

‘No, no,’ she cried, shrinking. ‘Stand back.’

I stared at her, saucer-eyed.

‘What on earth’s the matter?’ I said. ‘What–’

Marya cut me short.

‘By what right?’ she flamed. ‘By what shadow of right have you dared to do this thing?’

Looking upon her, I made sure she had lost her wits.

‘What thing?’ I said at last.

‘Murder,’ says she. ‘Murder.’

I shook my head.

‘I have done no murder,’ said I.

‘Liar,’ she rapped, recoiling. ‘There’s blood on your hands.’

‘Come, Marya,’ said I. ‘I give you my solemn word that no blood has been shed.’

‘George said–’

‘I daresay he did,’ said I. ‘But the bird has flown.’

She drew in her breath.

‘You went out to do murder,’ she said.

‘I don’t put it like that,’ said I. ‘I went out to settle with Grieg.’

‘By what right?’ she cried, leaning forward with blazing eyes. ‘Isn’t that my affair? Isn’t it for me to say whether I want him killed? and you – you take it upon you–’ She clapped her hands to her face. ‘Oh, God, why was I born?’

I stepped to her side.

‘I’m sorry, Marya,’ I said. ‘But I never thought twice. And anyway I’ve failed. He – is alive and well.’

‘You went out to kill him,’ she said, ‘without telling me.’

‘I know. I suppose I was wrong, but–’

‘“Suppose”? The man’s my husband.’

‘I know,’ said I. ‘But that doesn’t make him my friend.’

‘It gives me the right to be told before my friends put him to death.’

‘So be it,’ said I shortly. ‘And here and now I tell you that the very next time I see him I’m going to try again.’

‘And I forbid you,’ she cried. ‘I have the right.’

‘The point is this,’ said I. ‘I’ve only one life. And as Grieg is out to get it – well, I’ve got to look after myself.’

‘Do you blame him?’ said Marya. ‘He knows you’re trying to kill him. Do you blame him for self-defence?’

‘I don’t,’ said I. But that doesn’t alter the facts. He’s taken to shooting at sight.’

‘Then keep out of his way.’

‘Unhappily his way is my way. Tonight he’s going to meet someone. She doesn’t know it, of course; but mercifully it’s come to my ears. Perhaps you can guess who I mean.’

Marya put a hand to her throat, and though she did not speak, I saw her lips frame the word which she would have used.

‘Who?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You’re quite right. He’s going to meet Leonie.’

I had expected that my news would, so to speak, silence her guns. I was never more mistaken. It merely unmasked a battery of which I had never dreamed.

Marya shut fast her eyes, put her hands behind her and leaned back against the wall.

The queer, old-time surroundings, her artless pose, her slight, short-skirted figure and tumbled golden hair argued absurdly that she and I were two children quarrelling over some by-law of hide-and-seek.

As though to attest this conceit, Marya tilted her chin, pushed back her hair with a little, petulant gesture and opened her eyes.

‘I will stop him,’ she said. ‘I am going back to my husband, and I will make him see reason to hold his hand.’

A moment or two went by before I could find my tongue. Then – ‘You’re going back?’ I said.

Marya nodded. ‘That’s right. I must, of course. I’ve married the man. Unless and until he gives me cause to leave him–’

‘“Cause”?’ I almost shouted.

‘Hush,’ says she. ‘George is asleep in there. I – I don’t want him waked.’

‘But for his sake,’ I cried. ‘He loves you. He’s risked his life to–’

‘I know,’ said Marya. ‘I know. It’s a dreadful mess. I sold myself to save him, and now we’re both down on the deal. Don’t you want something to eat?’ She jerked her head at the doorway through which she had come. ‘There’s bread and wine in there.’

‘They can wait,’ said I. ‘We’ve got to settle this first.’

‘There’s nothing to settle,’ says she. ‘I’ve shot my bolt. I shot it last night in the chapel, and when I fled this morning I wasn’t myself.’

‘But if you love George–’

‘“If”?’ She clasped her hands and put them up to her throat. ‘When I came out of that chapel I felt that my heart was dead. I was mentally paralysed. My mind wouldn’t work. Only my body went on. When he said “Sit down”, my body did as he said. When he said “Drink”, my hand and my mouth obeyed. When I signed the register, he had to spell out my name, and I wrote it down by letters just as he said. After dinner he was sent for… Waiting for him to come back was the worst of all. My fingers were stiff – he’d kissed them. It seemed as though now he’d turned my body to stone… And then George came to me, Richard, and raised the dead. You couldn’t have done it; nor even Leonie. I was out of the reach of medicine. George’s love never did it. It was the touch – not of the man that loved me, but of the man I loved.’

‘Then why break his heart?’ said I.

Marya raised her eyebrows.

‘D’you think,’ she answered, ‘that Clytemnestra could sleep?’

‘Clytemnestra subscribed to her husband’s death. If I kill Grieg in fair fight, it’s nothing to do with you.’

‘Of course it is. I’ve got to try and save him – try to prevent the duel. Can’t you see my position, Richard? You went out last night to kill him, because by my consent he had made me his wife. The marriage register was your warrant – your executioner’s warrant for what you were going to do. By the grace of God you failed and saved me from a reproach which no woman could ever bear. But can’t you see that, just because he is my husband, he simply must not die at the hand of one of my friends?’

‘No, I’m damned if I can,’ said I.

‘I’m in love with George. Doesn’t that make it any clearer?’

I shook my head.

‘I admit,’ said I, ‘that the business smacks of the Stone Age: but that’s Grieg’s fault. Three hours ago I heard what he said to the Prince. “Against those men I had a personal grudge, and so I took the job on”. So, you see, the quarrel was there before ever we dragged you in. I also heard him allege that he had no compunction in sending us out of the country
because he knew we’d come back
.’

‘He was bluffing,’ said Marya swiftly.

‘At that moment,’ said I, ‘he happened to be speaking the truth. “They were bound to come back to get the Countess” was what he said. And so we were. To put it brutally, he sold you a pup. When he stood by your side in the chapel, he must have laughed in his sleeve. But, Marya, that’s what comes of a lamb lying down with a lion.’

‘But he couldn’t have known, Richard. You might have believed my letter, and, besides, he did his part. In getting you out of the country he took a tremendous risk.’

‘He never dreamed he was taking a risk at all. Provided he shut his men’s mouths, who was to know? If we hadn’t come back, the Prince would have thought we’d escaped. But he knew that we would come back. And if I hadn’t been arrested in the very act of entry, and if I hadn’t kept our bill from
The Broken Egg
…’

Marya shook her fair head.

‘There’s nothing doing Richard. I know he’s ruthless and I’m sure he hasn’t a scruple of any kind. But he did his part of the bargain he made with me. As a result, he’s an outlaw – unless you’ve overheard something which shows that he’s bluffed the Prince.’

‘And you’ve done your part,’ said I. ‘The deal is over and done with; and if you can’t see that,
he can
. Two hours and a half ago I walked clean into his arms. He had his pistol out. I never suspected his presence, and he never gave me a chance. He fired without warning, point-blank – and the bullet went by my ear. Don’t think I’m complaining – I’m not; I’m stating facts. You say you can’t marry George, if Grieg dies by my hand. Can you love and cherish Grieg, if I die by his?’

Marya stared upon the floor.

‘I’ve got to stop it,’ she said. ‘I’m the only person who can, and it’s plainly my job. I’ve a foot in each camp.’

‘Don’t you believe it,’ said I. ‘Grieg’s no respecter of persons. Not even the Prince has any standing with him.’

Marya averted her eyes.

‘If I – I kept him at home tonight…’

‘You’d sit down four,’ I said grimly. ‘And get up three.’

There was a little silence.

All of a sudden Marya began to laugh.

‘I throw in my hand,’ she said. ‘I retire. I give up. I can’t compete with the Stone Age. I’m out of my depth. A week ago I was shopping – choosing gramophone records and matching silk. And now…’ She broke off and shrugged her shoulders. ‘So far as I can see, I’ve messed everything up. I was made the decoy to get you here; I made you stay in my garden and so fall foul of the Prince; I’ve gone and married the man who’s trying his best to kill you; and, like a fool, I’ve let George see that I love him – if I’d had any sense last night, I’d have ordered him out of the house. And now, as I say, I retire. I think I’ve done enough damage. And I feel I don’t care what happens.’ She put a hand to her eyes. ‘Oh, I’m so sick of it all. D’you think we shall ever see Littai? And sit on the little terrace under the limes?’

‘The day after tomorrow,’ said I, ‘if you do as I say.’

‘All right. I’m beaten, Richard. You’ve a compelling way. Don’t you want something to eat?’

‘In ten minutes’ time,’ said I. ‘But first I must have a bathe.’

‘And Rowley?’ says she.

‘He’s keeping watch outside. You never heard me come in, and it might have been – somebody else.’

‘Where is he?’ I’ll take him some food.’

Together we went, to find him flat on the tiles of a little outhouse, so sheltered by the slope and the ivy that had he not spoken, we should have sought him in vain.

As she turned back to the doorway—

‘D’you think it’s safe to bathe, Richard? I mean, if they came upon you, what would you do? Without any shoes, you couldn’t so much as run.’

I pointed down stream, where trees overhung the banks and the water flowed into hiding beneath the spread of their leaves.

‘Safe enough there,’ I said. ‘If the enemy came, he’d only have eyes for the mill. Besides, he won’t. Lelia says that nobody comes this way.’

Marya opened her eyes.

‘Who ever is Lelia?’

‘You knew her before I did,’ said I.

‘Oh, I know. The peasant-girl. Isn’t she sweet?’

‘She is indeed,’ said I. ‘What’s more, she’s out to help us with all her heart.’

‘How much have you told her?’

BOOK: Fire Below
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