Anna, Where Are You?

CHAPTER XVII

Miss Silver woke up in the dark. One moment there had been a vague but pleasant dream, the next she was broad awake and considering what it was that had wakened her. It was just as if she had stepped from one room into another and closed the door behind her. But in the moment of that passing there had been a sound, and she thought that the sound had been a scream. There was a reading-lamp beside her bed. She turned it on and saw that the hands of her watch stood between one and two. The sound might have come from outside-an owl’s cry perhaps, but she did not think so. She thought it came from the room next door-from Jennifer’s room. There was a communicating door, but it had been locked ever since she came, with no sign of a key on either side. She got up, put on her slippers and a warm blue dressing-gown, and went out into the passage.

Of the five bedrooms in use four were on this side of the stairs -Jennifer next to herself, Mrs. Craddock and the little boys across the way. Beyond the well of the stairs, in the direction of the main building, Mr. Craddock’s room looked out upon the courtyard.

The passage was unlit from end to end. Miss Silver stood in the dark and listened. A sound came to her from the room next to hers-something between a groan and a sob. She went quietly to the door and opened it. The room was quite dark, except where the square of the window showed faintly against a denser gloom. Between it and the opened door a light air moved. A curtain stirred, blew out, and fell again. Jennifer’s gasping voice said,

“No-no-no! Take it away!”

Miss Silver came into the room, turned on the light, and shut the door behind her. Jennifer sat bolt upright, her hands pressing down upon the bed on either side of her, her pose rigid, her eyes wide, her dark hair wild. She did not look at Miss Silver, because she did not see her. What she saw was a picture in a dream, and the dream was horrible.

Miss Silver went over to the bed, sat down upon it, and laid her hand gently over one of those straining ones. At once the pose broke up. Both Jennifer’s hands clutched at her, held to her. The blankness went from the eyes. They gazed in terror, then focussed on Miss Silver, not in full recognition but with a piteous effect of groping.

Miss Silver said, at her kindest and most matter-of-fact,

“It is quite all right, my dear. You have been dreaming.”

The child’s grip was frightening. Miss Silver did not bruise easily, but she kept the mark of those fingers for days. Jennifer said in a horrid whisper,

“It was the Hand!”

“It was a dream, my dear.”

There was a long, deep sigh.

“You didn’t see it.”

“It was a dream. There was nothing to see.”

This time the sigh became a shudder that shook the bed.

“You didn’t see it. I did.”

Miss Silver said firmly,

“Jennifer, my dear, there is nothing to see. You have had a bad dream and it has frightened you, but now you are awake again. There is nothing to frighten you any more. If you will let go of me I will get you a glass of water.”

She would not have thought it possible that Jennifer’s grasp could have tightened, but it seemed to do so. The thin body shook, the eyes stared. Words came tumbling out.

“You don’t know-you didn’t see it! Mr. Masters told me- I thought it was just a story-I did-I did! I didn’t think it was true!”

“What did he tell you, my dear?”

Jennifer went on staring and shaking.

“About the Everlys-why there aren’t any more of them. There weren’t any boys. There was old Miss Maria, only she wasn’t old then, and there was Clarice, and Isabella-three of them-and there was a man and he was their cousin, but they couldn’t all marry him. Mr. Masters said it was a pity, because then it wouldn’t have happened like it did.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“A very foolish and improper remark, my dear.”

“It wouldn’t have happened,” said Jennifer-“not if he could have married them all. Solomon had a thousand wives, and he was in the Bible. Mr. Masters said one was trouble enough for most, and three to one wasn’t fair odds, but it would have been better if the cousin could have married the three of them, because then Isabella wouldn’t-” She choked on a caught breath.

“What did Isabella do?” said Miss Silver gravely.

“She killed her.” Jennifer’s whisper crawled with horror. “He was going to marry Clarice, and she killed her-with the axe-out of the wood-shed. She cut her hand right off-the one with the ring he had given her. They said she was mad-and shut her up. And Maria went on living here all by herself until she died, and there weren’t any more Everlys.”

“A terrible story, my dear. It was very wrong of Mr. Masters to speak of it.”

Jennifer shuddered.

“He had to-it wasn’t his fault. I told him about the doors being kept locked into the big house. And I told him I was going in to explore, and he said I mustn’t do it, because-” she tripped and stumbled over the words-“because of the hand- because of Clarice’s hand.”

“My dear-”

“He said people saw it. He said there was a boy-a long time ago-he saw it, and-he never spoke again.”

“Then, my dear, how did anyone know what he had seen?”

Jennifer gave an impatient jerk.

“I don’t know-Mr. Masters said… And there was a girl- she got drowned. She used to work here-her name was Mary Cheeseman. She used to say she didn’t believe in any such tales, and she found a way to get in. At least I think she did-she wouldn’t tell. And she got drowned going home. Pushed down in the bog, Mr. Masters said-‘like as if it was a hand had pushed her.’ ”

“Mr. Masters is a foolish and superstitious old man. I do not think that any of his stories lose in the telling. I have heard about poor Mary. It was a rainy night, and she missed the bridge and wandered into the bog.”

Jennifer sat up straight, her face quite close to Miss Silver’s, her eyes unnaturally bright.

“Did she?” she said. “Did she?” She let go of Miss Silver as suddenly as she had clutched her. “Perhaps she did. You don’t know, and I don’t know, and Mr. Masters doesn’t know.” Her voice dropped to a mere breath. “I know what I saw.”

“What did you see, Jennifer?”

The long lashes drooped. From under them something looked, and was gone. Hope-uncertainty-fear? Miss Silver wasn’t sure. Jennifer said,

“You wouldn’t believe if I told you. People don’t-not if they don’t want to.” Then, without any change in her voice, “I can unlock the door into your room. I hid the key because of Miss Ball. This used to be the dressing-room, you know. If the door is open, I don’t expect I shall have another bad dream- shall I? My mother used to let me have a night-light, but he said not to.”

“It is more restful to sleep in the dark.”

Jennifer was getting out of bed. She turned a scornful glance on Miss Silver.

“Is it?” she said.