Danger Point

Chapter 25

LISLE went up early to bed. All the way through dinner and whilst the evening was slowly dragging on she had thought of going up to her own room as escape, release, but when she was there with the doors locked it seemed to her that she had evaded one generation of Jerninghams only to find herself surrounded by all those other generations which had gone before. She had never felt that the room was really hers, but never before tonight had she experienced so completely the sense of being a passing guest in this place where so many others had lived, and ruled, and played their fleeting parts.

The heavy curtains had been drawn across the windows. The atmosphere of the room seemed old and stale. The hangings, the carpet, the old-fashioned wallpaper with its embossed design, the massive furniture, all sent out a faint something to tang the air.

She undressed quickly and pulled the curtains back. At once the night was in the room, silver with moonlight and fresh with a breeze from the sea. She stripped back the bedclothes, leaving only a sheet to cover her. Then she lay against the pillows with her cheek on her hand and watched the tops of the trees below the Italian garden, and the dark, secret glitter of the distant sea. She had come to the end of her strength. She couldn’t think any more. From the moment when she had made her appointment with Miss Maud Silver her mind had been in a state of ceaseless conflict. One most terrible thought had come and gone continually. It was so dreadful that she blenched away from it, but as soon as it was out of sight she began to fear it so much that her whole consciousness was in suspense, waiting until the horrible thing should show itself again. Now all that was over. For the moment at least strain had defeated itself. Thought came to a standstill. Out of all the confusion one certainty emerged. Dale had asked her to help him, and she had said she would. She couldn’t go and see Miss Silver after all. She would have to go into Ledlington in the morning and ring her up. She needn’t give any reason. She need only say that she was sorry she could not come. Her thoughts went no farther than that. She couldn’t go and see Miss Silver, because Dale had asked her to help him and she had said yes. She couldn’t go and see Miss Silver because it might be hurting Dale. It – wouldn’t – help – him. It – might – harm – him.

She fell asleep and had strange dreams. She was in an aeroplane, loud with the roar of its engines and the wind going by like a hurricane. All the winds of the world went by, and the clouds strung out to a thread because of the lightning speed. And there was no pilot. She was quite alone…

The dream was gone. Between sleep and waking she saw the moonlight, turned away from it, and slipped into another dream. There was a place where there was no one at all. Not even Lisle was there. It was the dreadful heart of loneliness, the place where you lost everything, even your own self. She cried out and woke, shuddering and cold with sweat.

When she had covered herself she slept again, and dreamed that she was walking in the part of the garden which she liked best. It was a fair evening drawing towards sunset. She came by some unfamiliar steps to the sea-shore. It was not any beach that she knew. There a straight, firm track of golden sand, with the sun shining low down across the sea. Everything was very still and peaceful. The tide was out. It ought to have been a happy dream, but there was a most terrible weight upon her heart. All at once she began to hear footsteps behind her. They were the footprints on the sands of time. They were something inescapable, unalterable, irrevocable. She could not by any kind of effort turn her head, or go back, or cease from going forward.

And then she saw the rock. It rose up in her path and shut out the light. It was as high as Tane Head. Suddenly it was Tane Head, and at the foot of the cliff Cissie Cole lay broken, with Lisle’s coat covering her. The footsteps came on and ceased because they were come to the end. Lisle looked down at the coat. She bent and pulled a fold away from the hidden face. And it wasn’t Cissie who was lying there dead – it was Lisle Jerningham… Someone put out a hand and touched her-

She woke. The room was dark. She could not tell right hand from left, or up from down. Somewhere in the house there was movement. A door closed. Her sense of direction came back. She got out of bed and went to the right-hand window. A sea mist had come up and blotted out the moon. She could see nothing but its baffling curtain. She stood there a long time looking out.