Chapter XI: Miss Lily Martin

The sight of Dr. Balmayne's little run-about car creeping slowly along the snowy road across the moor was indeed in the nature of an event. From Tuesday until Saturday only a few farm carts had dared the track. The doctor stopped at the outer gateway, crossing the causeway on foot, so his approach was not visible from the Pele itself. Olwen had, however, been out to feed the chickens, their mistress being actually in her bed; and Mrs. Baxter ran into the courtyard in some excitement to announce the arrival, descried by herself from the vantage ground of the Gatehouse.

Mr. Guyse being out, Olwen had no hesitation in going to the archway to greet the doctor. She stood, in fur cap and big coat, smiling and rosy, under the fangs of the rusty portcullis.

"Well," said Balmayne, drawing off his glove to greet her, "so you are still alive!"

She laughed gaily. "Did you expect to see my head fixed upon a spike outside the battlements?" she inquired. "No; I find Castle Terribil strange enough, but possible."

"Good!" he answered. "Strange, but possible! You seem to have a fine taste in adjectives."

"I have felt like ransacking a dictionary for them since I came here, whenever I am wrestling with the difficulty of conveying to my wholly Philistine relations anything like the impression this place produces!"

He stopped midway as they strolled across the quadrangle, gazing up at the almost unbroken wall of the Pele, grim and grey, on that side pierced only by the loopholes which lighted the newel stair.

"It's still fine, you know," he said half grudgingly. "When it was first built it possessed, of course, the supreme attribute of architecture--that of complete fitness for its intended purpose. But even now that this is so no more--now that it is no praise of a dwelling that it shall also be a fortress--it is still wonderful, still dignified."

"Like some people one knows, it turns its most forbidding face to the approaching stranger," she replied. "On the other side, where it overlooks the valley, the Tudor Guyses opened out windows quite recklessly."

"They had no hesitation in adapting it to their needs. We are afraid to do that now, the spell of the past is too strong for us."

"Humph! Somebody or other, not so many generations back, perpetrated _that_!" observed the girl, pointing the finger of scorn to the low ugly kitchen huddled against the south wall, its chimney sulkily asmoke.

He laughed. "Well, that's not encouraging, I own. And so you are finding existence possible?"

"I am having an experience," was her reply, "and I was rather in search of that. However, it is early days yet---- I suppose the snow doesn't lie all the year round, even here. As regards Mrs. Guyse, I fear her bad cold IB my fault. I urged her to go for a sleigh drive, and she is so unused to fresh air that it gave her cold, so I am feeling rather a failure just at present."

"Your theory was right, but in practice it went back on you," he replied amused. "A thing which does sometimes happen, even in these anything but tropical climes----"

"When a vessel is, so to speak, snarked," she concluded. "Yes, you have helped me to a word. Mrs. Guyse is, so to speak, snarked. Really she is a good deal like the Bellman, in being courteous and grave, but the orders she gave are enough to bewilder a crew--oh, I'm talking nonsense, but really it is such a queer household! The poor lady resented my coming, but, as a fact, she is in sad need of a companion."

"Yes," he replied reflectively, laying his hat and gloves on the hall table, for they had entered the Pele while they talked, "but her last experience in that direction was a bit shattering, wasn't it?"

She gave a startled glance. "Was it? I didn't know. Tell me."

He coloured slightly. "I beg your pardon. I thought you might have been told something of it by this time. However, as the Guyses have said nothing, I have no business to be discussing their affairs."

"Certainly, you are right," but she said it reluctantly. She had the idea that this man might supply her with a clue, tell her something which might form a key to the characters of the strange people among whom she found herself.

"Will you wait a moment while I let Mrs. Guyse know?" she said, and vanished from his sight behind the curtain which hid the stair-foot.

When she returned, he stood with his back to the stove, contemplating the barrel vault. It was never anything like full daylight in the vestibule owing to the primitive nature of the fenestration.

"Have you seen the well yet?" he asked.

"No," she replied with vivid interest. "Where is it?"

"Almost under your feet where you stand. Get Guyse to show you. It's beautiful water, and was the sole source of supply until they came to settle here, ten years ago, when he brought water up the hillside into the courtyard."

"What a place!" she laughed.

"Have you ever thought to wonder how they conveyed any furniture to the upper floors?"

"I did, but never made inquiries. Now one thinks of it, how could they have got a billiard-table in?"

"Pulled out all the mullions of the big south window and hauled the table up with ropes outside the wall. That was Ninian's father all over."

"They must have done the same thing all over the house!"

"I believe they did, except for such things as had been carried up in pieces and put together on the spot. You know, in the old times when there was raiding on the border, the cattle were all driven in here, where we stand, the women and children being accommodated above. Sometimes there were too many beasts for this place, and on one occasion, at least, some of them were stabled in the Gatehouse with the garrison--but perhaps Guyse has told you all this?"

"No, indeed, we don't have very much to say to one another."

"Well, the legend is that the attacking enemy made a breach in the masonry of the Gatehouse tower, and that a bull jumped out through the hole and fell into the ravine. That is why they call the causeway the Bull-drop."

"I didn't know it was so called."

"Yes, it is; and the legend goes on to assert that when another bull shall drop into the ravine there shall occur the birth of a fair-haired Guyse, and the Guyses of Guysewyke shall come into their own again."

"Does that mean, get back their lands?"

"The folk hereabout think it means that title and all shall pass to the elder branch. The present Lord Caryngston, you know, belongs to the junior line, the title having been conferred on his great-grandfather."

"The present Mr. Guyse has quite black hair."

"You haven't seen his brother?"

"His brother? I didn't know he had one."

"Oh, yes, they are twins, and Wilfrid is as fair as he is dark. Well, I must not keep you here chattering but go and see my patient! Lead on, please."

They proceeded up the newel, Olwen's brain busy with the facts just learned.

Dr. Balmayne, while not recommending any more sleigh drives at present, urged his patient to as much change of air as the Pele could afford. He said the banqueting hall was the only really airy room in the house, and that she ought to spend the greater part of her time in it. Olwen eagerly said that she was quite sure that could be arranged; but as she marked the obstinate fold of the lady's pale lips, she guessed that, in face of the patient's opposition, no orders of the doctor could be carried out.

As they passed from the bedroom to the sitting-room, the doctor asked, "What has become of the ayah?"

"Oh, I don't expect she is far off; but she asked me to bring you upstairs, she is very anxious not to seem to be usurping any prerogative of mine."

"Dear me!" he said in a tone of great surprise. "She must have altered very much of late."

"Why, was she jealous of the last companion? But I forgot, I ought not to ask you that question."

They had reached the hall once more. "Oh," he said, "there can be no harm in my saying that the Hindu was very jealous of Miss Martin, and they never got on well."

"Why, she is kindness itself to me--almost too kind! She overwhelms me with devotion. She has some sort of superstitious idea that it is her destiny to serve me. Look here!" she held out her hands, the nails beautifully manicured; then, turning her back to display her head, "Are you a judge of hair-dressing? What do you think of this for a winter's morning in the wilds of the Border? Why do you look at me like that?"

In fact, his expression was that of consternation. "I--I am surprised--what you tell me surprises me. What can be the woman's object? For she does nothing without an object."

"To induce me to stay, I should think," laughed Olwen. "She may have found that it is not easy to detain anybody young in this weird spot."

"That may be," he said slowly, but not as if he were convinced. "Are you an orphan?" he asked abruptly; and her reply that she was caused him to furrow his brow. He said nothing, however, picking up his hat and gloves slowly from the table.

Looking up, he caught her anxious eyes, and a smile kindled in his own. "Certainly the coiffure is tip-top, but Sunia had fine material to work upon, if I may be pardoned the remark." Tone and manner were alike just right, and she laughed with a clear mind.

"Shall you be coming again?" she wished to know.

"Oh, yes. Mrs. Guyse must not leave her room until I have seen her. It is a great thing for her to have your society; but I--I feel"--he dropped his voice--"as if I ought perhaps to utter one word of warning. The ayah is not to be trusted; and----"

She smiled up at him with limpid eyes. "Are you going to echo Mrs. Askwith's warning to 'keep Muster Nin at a distance'?" she replied in the same undertone. "Well, you needn't be uneasy. We are not hitting it off. I have had to administer one or two snubs, and he now says he thinks I was born to be the mistress of a reformatory."

They went out together into the frosty twilight. When they had gone some steps she remarked: "The hall is not a safe place in which to talk. You never know where the ayah is. However, she is welcome to have overheard all that we have said to-day."

"Mrs. Askwith's advice was good; I am in a position to tell you that it was by no means unnecessary. But I think you are all right; you seem to have plenty of sense. Would it be an impertinence if I asked how you happened to come here?"

"Oh, very simply. I advertised, and Mrs. Guyse answered my advertisement. It wasn't quite what I wanted, but they pay well, and I thought it would be a beginning. I don't expect to be here very long, and if it grows in any way uncomfortable I shall leave."

"Good!" he said; and added after thought, "I wish you were not quite so isolated. You have literally no neighbours. There is nobody nearer than the vicarage at Lachanrigg, and Mr. and Mrs. Baines are both over seventy, so during the winter they might as well not exist as far as the Pele is concerned."

They strolled out across the Bull-drop. Just as they reached the outer gate Ninian Guyse rode up, mounted on Deloraine.

"Hallo!" said he, with a swift glance at the two. "Risked your precious Fordette on these roads, eh?"

"Don't you sneer at my tin-kettle! She's as game a little machine as ever hummed along these God-forsaken tracks," replied Balmayne. "Well, I've seen your mother, and she ought soon to be all right. Just a slightly relaxed throat which has sent up her temperature. I am telling Miss Innes to persuade her to pass more time in your billiard-room, or library, whatever you call it. It is spacious and airy, and while she goes out so little, she must take all the air she can get indoors."

"Yes, the doctor has put an idea into my head," chimed in Olwen, as the doctor shook hands, and hastened to where his chauffeur was cranking up the motor. "Good-bye, doctor, and thank you! I'll expect the medicine by the postman to-morrow and yourself the day after--and I'll remember all your directions!"

The car started. Ninian, after standing, a moment as if in profound thought, took Deloraine's bridle, and Olwen and he walked across the causeway.

"Dr. Balmayne has been telling me that they call this the Bull-drop," said she conversationally.

"Oh, indeed! What more has he been telling you, I wonder?"

"Something extremely interesting--that there is a well under the floor of the hall. I do so want to see it!"

"There's nothing to see."

"Oh, if it's any trouble, it really doesn't matter in the least. Please forget that I mentioned it, and let me say a word about Madam. I have been wondering why she doesn't use the billiard-room more; it is much the nicest room in the house, and not a bit draughty, and I believe I have discovered the reason."

He turned his face to her, but the gathering night hid his expression. "You have noticed that my mother doesn't like the billiard-room?"

"Evidently she doesn't like being there."

"And you think you know why?"

"Yes. I think it is because she is not comfortable there. There is no sofa upon which she can lie down."

"I wonder if by any chance you are right," he mused, speaking for the first time since she had known him quite earnestly and naturally. "It might be worth trying."

"Exactly what I was going to suggest," she broke in eagerly. "Of course, I can see that no sofa could be carried upstairs. But I have been studying the catalogue from Barton's, the big Leeds people, and they have those canvas lounges which fold up. With the cushions off the dining-room sofa and some pillows we could make one of those quite comfy for her. The one I liked is only thirty shillings, carriage paid. We could move back the settle, put up the big leather screen, set a table close by, and she would be almost as cosy as she is upstairs."

He checked Deloraine in the courtyard and began to unsaddle him. "It's a rattling good idea. I'll write and order the thing to-night."

"Oh, thanks! I am glad you don't snub my poor little plan!"

"Why should I snub it?"

"Somehow I thought you would."

"You think you know all about me, don't you?"

"On the contrary, how can I know anything except what you have shown me?"

He made no answer, and in the dusk she escaped, hurrying upstairs to tell Sunia what the doctor had said and to prepare a fomentation for Madam's throat.