The Silk Vendetta (5 page)

She then began to discuss what dresses would be needed.

“I shall have to ask Madame Cleremont to come and see me. There will be so much to do. I don’t know how I shall manage.”

I could not help smiling knowing that Lady Sallonger would have very little trouble in managing, for others would do that for her.

There was talk of little else but Julia’s coming out. Grand’mere was very excited about the dresses she would make for her. She did a good many sketches. I did one. Grand’mere said it should go down with the rest for approval, but she would not say it was mine until the choice was made.

Almost every afternoon we rode out together—Julia, Cassie and I. If there were three of us we were allowed to go without a groom providing we did not go beyond the little hamlet of Branches Burrow on one side and the King’s Arms on the other.

The forest within five miles radius of the house was very well known to us, but to stray beyond the boundary would be most unsafe, for it was an easy place in which to lose oneself.

I shall never forget the horror of that day. We were riding through the forest and it was all so peaceful. The sun, shining through the leaves, made a dappled pattern on the ground and there was the lovely smell of damp earth in the air. Julia was talking—as she seemed constantly to be doing—of her coming out. Cassie looked thoughtful, possibly wondering with some apprehension whether she would have a season. I had no such fears to worry me. I was not sure whether I was pleased or sorry about that. I think Grand’mere was hoping I should be asked to share … not in Julia’s perhaps, but in Cassie’s, which I imagined would not be such a grand undertaking.

We were coming to the lake and as we approached it I heard Hounds of shouting voices and shrieks of laughter.

“Some of the boys from the villages play round here,” said Julia. “It’s a favourite spot.”

As we came in sight they saw us. They were scarcely boys being in their teens—sixteen or seventeen I imagined. There was a hush as we rode forward. I could not believe what I saw. Willie was tied to one of the trees.

I shouted: “Willie, what are you doing?”

The youths—there were about six of them—stared at us for a few seconds. There was something evil about them. I sensed that before I realized what they were doing.

One of them shouted: “They’re from the house.” And they all sprang into action and ran.

I leaped from my horse and went to Willie. He was incoherent, trying to speak to us, but he could not find the words. There was an expression of fixed horror on his face. Julia and Cassie had come up.

“Oh look,” said Julia pointing.

Then I saw. It was the mongrel dog. He was tied to another tree. There was blood on his coat and he was lying very still.

I untied Willie.’ ‘What happened?” I cried. He did not answer. He ran to the dog and took it in his arms. It made no sound and was unaware of him so I knew it was dead. Those boys had killed it. How could they do such a cruel senseless thing?

“Tell us what happened,” said Julia.

But still he did not answer. He stood holding the dog against him. I noticed that one of its legs was broken.

“Willie,” said Cassie gently, “could you tell us what happened?”

Willie shook his head in abject misery.

“It was those boys,” said Julia. “Oh they are wicked. Willie, what made them do it?”

But it was no use trying to speak to him. He could only think of one thing: his dog was dead.

There was no one Willie had ever loved as he had loved that dog; and no one had ever loved Willie as that little creature had. They had found each other, comforted each other and lived for each other. And now he had been wantonly killed by mindless boys whose aim had been to inflict pain on a helpless animal and a poor lad whom they considered to be inferior to themselves.

I did not know how we were going to comfort him.

Cassie was crying silently. I think that helped him to realize we cared.

“Willie,” I pleaded, “if you try to tell us what happened …”

He spoke suddenly. “We was by the lake … sitting … looking. They came and laughed at us. I didn’t look at them. Then one of them said: ‘You do like the lake, don’t you?’ And they took me and tried to throw me in.”

He looked at the dog in his arms and went on: “He bit him … when he laid hands on me … he bit him.”

“I hope badly,” I said.

“Then they put the ropes on me and they took him up and tied him to the tree and they threw stones at him.”

“I shall tell Carter about this,” I said. “They ought to be punished.”

“It can’t bring back the poor little thing,” Julia pointed out.

“It will show them what happens to hooligans.”

But I knew that Carter had no jurisdiction over boys who did not belong to our stables.

“We shall have to bury him, Willie,” I said.

Willie began to walk away with the dog in his arms.

We mounted our horses and made our way to the stables where we found the head groom Carter and told him what had happened.

“Did you see what boys they were?” asked Carter.

“We didn’t know them. They ran off when we appeared.”

” He thought the world of that dog.” That is why they did what they did,” I said. “I wish we could find them. I think they should be severely punished.”

” If it was any of my stable lads I’d see that they heard from me. None of them, I hope, would do such a thing.”

” Willie will have to be gently treated.”

” The Missus will see to that. We’ll have to get rid of the dog. I fancy he might want to keep it. He’s very simple in lots of

ways. ”

We left him and went sadly home. We were all deeply shocked and Julia did not mention her coming out for a whole day.

I knew enough of Willie to realize that he would not want to give up the dog. He would rather have it dead than not at all.

It would soon be forcibly taken from him, and I decided to see what I could do. I found a little box of stiff cardboard and some twine and went in search of him. I did not think he would be by the lake but he was. He was seated beside that tree to which they had tied the dog and he was holding the animal in his arms.

I said: “Willie, we shall have to give him a burial. He can’t be happy like that.”

“They’ll take him away from me.”

“Yes,” I said. “So let us give him a proper burial and then they won’t.” I held out the box to him. “He wants to rest,” I went on. “He’s tired. He must be left in peace to sleep.”

To my surprise he put the dog in the box.

I said: “We’ll bury him and I’ll make a little cross. Here are these sticks, see? If I cross them like that and bind them up with twine they make a cross and that gives him a Christian burial.”

He watched me and at any moment I thought he was going to snatch the box away.

I said gently: “Everyone has to die at some time. And when they die they must be treated with respect. They must be given an honourable grave. They want to rest in peace.”

He was silent listening to me with a kind of wonder.

I said: “I know what we’ll do. There’s the mausoleum.”

He looked at me not understanding.

“It’s the house of the dead. You know it. It’s not far from here. It is where the Sallongers go when they die. It’s a beautiful place. You have seen the angels there. They are guarding it. We’ll take him there and bury him, shall we?”

He continued to look at me in wonder and I put my arm round him and held him closely. He was trembling.

I said: “It is best. He will be at peace and you can come to visit him. You’ll know he is there under the ground. You can siT by his grave and talk to him. It will seem as though he is there with you. The only difference will be that you cannot see him.”

He went on studying me. It seemed a good plan. The dog had to be buried and I did not want it to be forcibly taken from him. We could dig a hole by the side of the mausoleum; that would give a certain dignity to the burial.

He was clutching the box tightly.

I stood up and said: “Come on, Willie. We’ll do it now. Then you can stay and talk to him and you will know that he is at rest. He will be happier in his box. It is there he wants to be now.”

I started to walk away, half expecting him not to follow, but he did. So I led the way to the family vault of the Sallongers.

It had always fascinated me since the first time I had seen it and Grand’mere had explained to me what it was.

“When a member of the family dies he or she is put in the mausoleum. In those coffins lie the bones of long dead Sallongers,” said Grand’mere. “They were together in life and they remain so in death. Great families have these vaults.”

I used to go and look at it—always trying to persuade Julia or Cassie to come with me. I was fascinated by the two angels with flaming swords—like those in the garden of Eden in my bible-guarding the place from intruders.

The iron gates were beautifully wrought and in the stone work of the walls figures had been carved. When I was small I fancied the faces changed as I looked at them. I sometimes dreamed of the place … that I was locked in there and could not get out and that the coffins opened and the long-dead Sallongers came out to look at me.

I said: “We will dig a grave here, Willie … by the walls of the vault and your little dog will lie close to the Sallongers. He will be happy there because his will be a real grave. We will put a cross on it and you will find it easily. Perhaps we will put some flowers on it and everyone will know that he is there and how much we cared about him.”

Willie was nodding his head slowly.

I had brought a little shovel with me. I gave it to him and said: “You dig, Willie. He would want you to bury him. You were the one he loved best.”

So that was how we buried Willie’s dog.

I knew that he went to the grave often. He would sit beside it and appear to be talking.

The dogs in the stables often had puppies and I made Julia ask for one and I told her we were going to give it to Willie. This she was happy to do.

I knew we should find him sitting by the grass.

I said: “Hello, Willie. Here’s a little dog. He has come to be with you … if you would like him to.”

Willie stared at the dog without much emotion.

Cassie stroked him and said: “You’d like to be with Willie, would you?” She put her face close to the puppy and unexpect-edly sneezed. Then she did it again.

“Once a wish, Twice a kiss,” sang Julia.

“Then it’s a kiss for me,” said Cassie and sneezed again.

You’re like pepper, puppy,” she said. “You’re making me sneeze. I’m going to call you Pepper.”

“It seems a good name for a dog,” added Julia.

I took the puppy and held it out to Willie. I said: “Look, Pepper, I think you and Willie are going to like each other.”

Willie put out a hand and took the puppy. It gave a little bark and licked his hand. I saw a sudden joy come into Willie’s face and I knew we had done the right thing.

“He’s yours, Willie,” I said. “He wants a home. Will you take Pepper and look after him?”

I am sure he stopped grieving after that.

Sir Francis came to The Silk House. There was always a good deal of ceremony when he arrived. The big carriage was housed with the gig and the dog cart which seemed to shrink into insignificance beside it. Cobb took up his quarters over the stables. I think he had the same effect on the grooms as Sir Francis did on the household. Cobb came from London and therefore considered himself greatly superior to poor country folk. Meals were more ceremonious. Lady Sallonger paid more attention to her toilette than ever, but she seemed to become more of an invalid and languished elegantly in her ribbons and laces on the sofa. Sir Francis sat beside her and called her “m’dear”; he patted her hand and listened patiently while she told him how she suffered. Clarkson became more dignified than ever and Mrs. Dillon was quite flustered in the kitchen, giving orders and cancelling them until Grace said she didn’t know whether she was standing on her head or her heels.

He was closeted with Grand’mere for some time.

He did not stay very long … only for a few days, which I daresay was considered long enough by all concerned. There was a feeling of relief when Cobb, resplendent in the driver’s seat, carried Sir Francis back to town.

Grand’mere talked about him to me after he had gone.

“He’s got something on his mind,” she said. “I have a fancy that all is not well.”

“Was he angry about something?”

“Oh no … but I think he looked worried. He said trade was in the doldrums and we needed something to pull it out. Those were his words. We wanted something new. You couldn’t stand still. We had to find something and it had to be good. The old lines were very fine but people craved for something new. ‘What we have to find, Madame Cleremont,’ he said to me, ‘is some new method of weaving silk … something which will set the world alight… something no one else has.’ I have rarely seen him in such a mood.”

“Do you think he is worried about Julia’s season? That must be very expensive.”

Grand’mere laughed. “I think not, ma cherie. I think that is one small matter and Sir Francis has much business on his mind. No. It is merely that perhaps he has not made so much money this year as last. He thinks in big figures. Oh, he will be all right. It is just that he craves something new. It is what they all want … some invention which will set them way ahead of those who who compete against them.”

” And there is a great deal of this competition then?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Ma cherie, it is there all the time … and there is big competition between the house of St. Allengere and that of Sallonger. They have been rivals for years. One must do better than the other. The Catholic St. Allengeres and the Protestant Sallongers. Can you not imagine the trials in the family when one branch takes up with a new religion. Religion is responsible for a great deal of trouble, ma petite. ”

” But there is friendship between them. They visit.” She pursed her lips. “It is … how you say it… an armed neutrality. Between these two there is great desire to outdo each other. One must be better than the other. It has been the story over the years.”