Grey Mask

CHAPTER XXXI

At eight o’clock next morning Charles Moray, calm and cheerful, rang the bell of the flat. It may be said that he was the last person in the world whom Margaret expected to see. He greeted her without any sign of embarrassment.

“Morning, Margaret-thought I’d catch you before you went off. I suppose Greta isn’t up. You might just tell her to hurry and pack anything she’s got-no, she hasn’t got anything-has she? But perhaps you won’t mind lending her what she wants for a day or two.”

“You’re taking her away?”

It was dark in the tiny passage. The early morning cold chilled everything. He could not see her face; she was just a black shadow. A chink of light showed through the unfastened sitting-room door.

“Yes-I thought I’d better let you know before you went off.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“D’you know, I hadn’t thought of telling you that,” said Charles. He had one thought only-to strike hard, to strike deep, to break her pride.

Margaret had no pride left to break; it was all broken, and her heart too. She made no answer, only turned away from him into the sitting-room.

He came in after her and shut the door. His manner changed.

“Will you tell me that it is safe for you to know where she is? Will you tell me that? Is it safe?”

Margaret faced him, and faced the light. She could do that.

Words that he had not planned rushed to Charles’ lips:

“Who pushed her yesterday? She said she was pushed. You heard her. I want to know who pushed her.”

A curious faint tremor touched Margaret. It made a change in the pale set of her mouth; it altered her. It was as if something horrible had touched her for an instant.

“Who pushed her?” said Charles in a low, hard voice.

The tremor came again. This time the horror was in her eyes.

“It wasn’t-no-Charles-no!”

“What are you saying?”

“He was the other side of me,” said Margaret in a shaken whisper.

“I didn’t mean Freddy,” said Charles. Then, as he said the name, he almost laughed, “Freddy!”

“Who did you mean? Charles-it was an accident. You don’t think it was anything else?”

“It would have been a very convenient accident. I’m going to tell you something. Perhaps you know it already. I told you once before that I watched a meeting of this society of yours. I heard them speaking about Margot. Grey Mask said that if a certain certificate were found she would have to be removed. He said a street accident would be the safest way. Last night Greta-Margot-babbled at dinner about having found a certificate. Less than three hours later the street accident happened. It didn’t quite come off-I don’t know why.”

“Ask her why.”

“No-I’ll ask you-you must have seen what happened.”

“She slipped.”

“Why did she slip?”

The horror touched her eyes again.

“I don’t know. Charles-I don’t know.”

“I do. She slipped because she was made to slip, because she was pushed. I want to know who pushed her.”

She met his eyes.

“Did you think I knew?”

Charles did know what he had thought. He had endured a horrible nightmare in which anything was possible, an hour in which everything had gone adrift in a mad storm of evil. He was not sure of what he had thought in that hour. He looked at Margaret, and woke up.

The relief was so overwhelming that it carried him away. He did not know that his face was changed. But his mood had changed so much that he did not care where it was taking him. He said,

“You didn’t see anything then?” And as Margaret shook her head, he went on, his voice fallen to a tone of confidence. “You see what it means-they know where she is-they know where to find her. Look at the attempt to get her away last night. And then this accident. You see what it means?”

The change was so sudden that it came near to breaking Margaret’s self-control. He did not wait for an answer. He was the old Charles asking her for help.

“We’ve got to put a stop to it. It can’t go on. Can’t you help me? If you’d just tell me the whole thing.”

“But I have.”

“You said you joined. What happened after that? Did you meet any of these people? Did you do anything? Did they make you do anything?”

“I went two or three times to meetings.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. The first time I just went. There were two men in the room. They both wore masks. They gave me a number-twenty-six-and I came away. I went again about a year later. They asked me to sign another statement. I said I wouldn’t at first; but in the end I did.”

“Did Freddy go with you?”

“No, I went alone. The last time was the time you saw me. Freddy was ill. He said there was a meeting, and he gave me some papers to take. I gave them to Grey Mask and came away.”

“He spoke to you.”

“He asked if Freddy was really ill. He didn’t use his name, you know-only a number.”

“The other man”-Charles spoke eagerly-“the one at the table? He had his back to me, but you must have seen his face.”

“No-he had a mask. I never saw anyone’s face-only masks.”

He made an exclamation of disappointment.

“Well, you see I must get her away. I knocked Archie up after I left here last night, and he says he’ll take her along to his cousin, Ernestine Foster. He says she’ll take her in all right. Of course she won’t know who she is.”

“Until Greta gives herself away.”

“Greta must be told not to give herself away.”

Margaret’s eyebrows went up.

“I know,” said Charles. “But I shall put it across her. She’s not to mention Egbert, or poor Papa, or that blighted school of hers.”

Greta put her head round the door and uttered a cry of rapture.

“Oh, Charles! How lovely! Have you come to take me out? Is it fine? Where are we going? I want to drive the whole way to-day. But you’ll have to wait-I’m not dressed.”

“So I see.”

Greta came farther into the room. She wore a pale blue kimono; her feet were bare.

“This is Margaret’s dressing-gown. Isn’t it pretty? It’s one she had ages ago in her trousseau-Isn’t it, Margaret? She wouldn’t quite say it was; but I’m sure it was really, and she didn’t say ‘No.’ Of course the colours were brighter before it was washed. I’m going to have one just like it.”

“Go and dress, baby,” said Margaret. “Charles has come to take you away.”

Charles found the light words tragic. The tragedy was in Margaret’s voice and eyes.

Greta gave a little scream.

“Where are we going, Charles? Where are you going to take me? Are you going to take me right away?”

She held his arm, tugging at it as a child might have done.

“I’m not going to take you like that. Go and dress. You’re going to stay with a cousin of Archie’s for a bit.”

“How frightfully exciting! But I don’t want to go away from Margaret. Won’t she have me any longer?”

She left Charles and flung her arms round Margaret.

“I don’t want to go away. Even if it’s a little bit dull all the time you’re out, I’d rather stay here-I would really. Why are you sending me away? Are you angry?”

Margaret shook her head. Just for a moment she could not speak.

“Charles, ask her to let me stay!” The bare arms were round Margaret’s neck. “Margaret, I do love you! And you saved my life yesterday-Charles, she really did. So she ought to keep me. I should have been right under that horrible bus if she hadn’t simply clutched me.”

“What?”

“She clutched me and pulled me back. I told you someone pushed me. And if Margaret hadn’t grabbed me, I should have gone right under the bus-I know I should.”

Charles did not look at Margaret. He experienced some tumultuous emotions. He heard Margaret say, “I must go, or I shall be late. Greta, go and dress.”

“You haven’t had any breakfast, Margaret.”

“I can’t stop.”

“Oh-” said Greta.

Margaret had detached herself and was at the door. “Go and dress,” she said, and went out.