Legend of the Seventh Virgin (13 page)

There were all kinds of drink; stirrup cup which we called dash-an-darras; there was metheglin and mead, gin, and other wines which came from foreign parts. It was amusing to see Haggety in charge of these, bowing obsequiously, looking very different from the self-important butler who had wanted to hire me at Trelinket Fair. When I thought of what he would say if he knew that he would now have to serve the girl he might have hired, I wanted to burst out laughing.

When you are young and have known hunger you can always eat with relish, however excited you might be, and I did justice to the lammy pie and fair maids which Kim brought to us while I sipped the mead poured by Haggety.

I had never tasted it before and I liked the flavor of honey; but I knew that it was intoxicating and I had no intention of dulling my senses on this most exciting evening of my life.

Kim watched us eat with pleasure and I knew he was puzzled about me. I sensed he recognized that he had met me before and was wondering where. I was delighted to keep him guessing.

“Look,” he said as we sipped our mead, “here comes the Borgia boy.”

I looked and saw him; he was dressed in black velvet, there was a little cap on his head and false mustaches. He looked at Mellyora and then at me. His gaze stayed on me.

He bowed and said in a theatrical manner: “Methinks I have met the fair Grecian in our St. Larnston lanes.”

I knew at once that he was Johnny St. Larnston because I recognized his voice as I had Kim’s.

“But I am certain I have never seen the Spanish beauty before.”

“You should never be too sure of anything,” said Mellyora.

“If I had seen her once I should never have forgotten her and now her image will remain with me all the days of my life.”

“It’s strange,” said Mellyora, “that by merely wearing a mask you can’t really hide your identity.”

“The voice, the gestures betray,” said Kim.

“And we three are known to each other,” went on Johnny. “That makes me mighty curious about the stranger in our midst.”

He drew his chair close to mine, and I began to feel uneasy.

“You’re a friend of Mellyora’s,” he added. “I know your name. You’re Miss Carlyon.”

“You are not supposed to embarrass your guests,” Mellyora told him primly.

“My dear Mellyora, the whole purpose of a masked ball is to guess the identity of your companions before the unmasking. Did you not know? Miss Carlyon, my mother told me that Mellyora was bringing a friend as her father could not come. A chaperone … an aunt, I think. That was what my mother said. Surely you are not Mellyora’s aunt?”

“I refuse to tell you who I am,” I answered. “You must wait for the unmasking.”

“As long as I may be at your side at that exciting moment I can wait.”

The music had started and a tall handsome couple were opening the ball. I knew the man in Regency costume was Justin and I guessed the tall, slim, dark-haired woman to be his newly married wife.

I could not take my eyes from Judith St. Larnston who, until recently, had been Judith Derrise. She was wearing a crimson velvet dress very similar in color to mine; but how much richer was hers! About her neck diamonds glittered; they were also in her ears and on her long, slender fingers. Her dark hair was worn in pompadour fashion which made her look slightly taller than Justin, who was very tall. She looked very attractive but what I noticed more than anything was a certain nervous tension about her. It was betrayed by the sudden movements of her head and hands. I noticed, too, how she clung to Justin’s hand and even in the dance she gave the impression that she was determined never to let him go.

“How attractive she is!” I said.

“My new sister-in-law,” murmured Johnny, his eyes following her.

“A handsome pair,” I said.

“My brother is the handsome member of the family, don’t you think?”

“It is difficult to say until the unmasking takes place.”

“Oh, that unmasking! Then I shall ask for your verdict. But by that time I hope to have proved to you that Justin’s brother has other qualities to make up for his lack of personal beauty. Shall we dance?”

I was alarmed, afraid that if I danced with Johnny St. Larnston I should betray that I had never danced with a man before.

If it had been Kim, I should have been less afraid, because I had already proved that in an emergency one could rely on him; I was unsure of Johnny. But Kim was already leading Mellyora out.

Johnny took my hand and pressed it warmly.

“Spanish lady,” he said, “you are not afraid of me?”

I gave the kind of laugh I might have given years ago. Then I said in my slow, careful way, “I see no reason to be.”

“That’s a good start.”

The musicians, who were in a gallery at one end of the ballroom, were playing a waltz. I thought of waltzing round the bedroom with Mellyora and I hoped that my dancing would not betray my lack of experience. But it was easier than I thought; I was skillful enough not to arouse suspicion.

“How well our steps fit,” said Johnny.

I lost Mellyora in the dance and wondered whether Johnny had intended that I should; and when we sat together on the gilded chairs and I was asked to dance by someone else, I was rather relieved to escape from Johnny. We talked — or rather my partner did — of other balls, of the hunt, of the changing conditions of the country, and I listened, careful never to betray myself. I learned that night that a girl who listens and agrees, quickly becomes popular. But it was not a role I intended to play permanently. Then I was taken back to my chair where Johnny was impatiently waiting. Mellyora and Kim joined us and I danced with Kim. I enjoyed that very much, although it wasn’t so easy as it had been with Johnny; I suppose because Johnny was a better dancer. And all the time I kept thinking: You’re actually here in the Abbas. You, Kerensa Carlee — Carlyon for the night.

We had more food and wine and I didn’t want the evening ever to end. I knew I should hate to take off my red velvet dress and let down my hair. I stored up in my mind every little incident so that I could tell Mellyora the next day.

I joined in the cotillion; some of my partners were paternal, others flirtatious. I managed them all with what I thought was great skill; and I asked myself why I had ever been nervous.

I drank a little of the dash-an-darras which Johnny and Kim had brought to our table with the food. Mellyora was a little subdued; I believe she was hoping that she might dance with Justin.

I was dancing with Johnny when he said: “It’s so crowded here. Let’s go outside.”

I followed him down the staircase and out to the lawns where some of the guests were dancing. It was an enchanting sight. The music could be heard distinctly through the open windows and the dresses of the men and women looked fantastic in the moonlight.

We danced over the lawn and we came to the hedge which separated the Abbas lawns from the field in which stood the Six Virgins and the old mine.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“To see the Virgins.”

“I always wanted to see them in moonlight,” I said.

A slow smile touched his lips, and I realized at once that I had given him a clue that I was not a stranger to St. Larnstons who had come for the ball, since I knew of the existence of the Virgins.

“Well,” he whispered, “so you shall.”

He took my hand and together we ran over the grass. I leaned against one of the stones and he came near to me pressing close. He tried to kiss me, but I held him off.

“Why do you plague me?” he said.

“I do not wish to be kissed.”

“You’re a strange creature, Miss Carlyon. You provoke and then become prim. Is it fair?”

“I came here to see the Virgins in moonlight.”

He had put his hands on my shoulders and held me against the stone. “Six virgins. There might be seven here tonight.”

“You’ve forgotten the story,” I said. “It was because they weren’t virgins …”

“Precisely. Miss Carlyon, are
you
going to turn to stone tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you know the legend? Anyone who stands here in moonlight and touches one of these stones is in danger.”

“From what? Impertinent young men?”

He put his face close to mine. He looked satanic with the false mustaches and his eyes glinting through the mask. “You haven’t heard the legend? Oh, but you don’t come from these parts, do you, Miss Carlyon? I must tell you. If the question is asked ‘Are you a virgin?’ and you cannot answer ‘Yes,’ you’ll be turned into stone. I’m asking you now.”

I tried to wriggle free. “I wish to return to the house.”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“I think you are not behaving like a gentleman.”

“Do you know so well the ways of gentlemen?”

“Let me go.”

“When you answer my questions. I’ve already asked the first. Now I want an answer to the second.”

“I shall answer no questions.”

“Then,” he said, “I shall be forced to satisfy my curiosity and impatience.” With a swift gesture he snatched at my mask and as it came away in his hand, I heard the sudden gasp of amazement.

“So … Miss Carlyon!” he said. “
Carlyon
.” Then he began to chant:

Ding ding bell,

Someone’s in the well.

Who put her in?

Was it due to sin?

He laughed. “I’m right, am I not? I
do
remember you. You are not a girl one easily forgets, Miss Carlyon. And what are you doing at our ball?”

I snatched the mask from him.

“I came because I was invited.”

“H’m! And deceived us all very nicely. My mother is not in the habit of inviting cottagers to St. Larnston balls.”

“I’m a friend of Mellyora’s.”

“Yes … Mellyora! Now who would have thought her capable of this! I wonder what my mother is going to say when I tell her?”

“But you won’t,” I said, and I was annoyed with myself because there seemed to be a note of pleading in my voice.

“But don’t you think it is my duty?” He was mocking. “Of course, for a consideration I might agree to join in the deception.”

“Keep away,” I warned. “There is no question of a consideration.”

He put his head on one side and regarded me with a puzzled look. “You give yourself airs, my cottage beauty.”

“I live at the parsonage,” I retorted. “I am being educated there.”

“Tr la,” he mocked. “Tr la la!”

“And now I wish to return to the ball.”

“Maskless? Doubtless known by some of the servants? Oh, Miss Carlyon!”

I turned from him and started to run. There was no reason why I should return to the ballroom. The evening was spoilt for me in any case. I would go back to the parsonage and at least preserve my dignity.

He ran after me and caught my arm. “Where are you going?”

“As I am not returning to the ballroom, that is no concern of yours.”

“So you are going to leave us? Now please don’t do that. I was only teasing you. Don’t you recognize a joke when you hear one? That’s something you have to learn. I don’t want you to leave the ball. I want to help. Could you repair the mask?”

“Yes, with a needle and thread.”

“I will get them for you if you come with me.”

I hesitated, not trusting him; but the temptation to go back was too great to be resisted.

He led me to a wall which was covered with ivy, and pushing this aside disclosed a door. When we passed through this we were in the walled garden and straight ahead of us was the spot in which the bones had been discovered. He was taking me to the oldest wing of the Abbas.

He opened a heavily studded door and we were in a dank passage. There was a lanthorn hanging on the wall which gave a feeble light. Johnny took this down and holding it high above his head turned to grin at me. He looked satanic and I wanted to run, but I knew that if I did I could not return to the ball. So when he said: “Come on!” I followed him up a spiral staircase, the steps of which were steep and worn down by the tread of feet over hundreds of years.

He turned to me and said in a hollow voice: “We are in that part of the house which was certainly the old convent. This is where our virgins lived. Eerie, don’t you think?”

I agreed.

At the top of the staircase he paused. I saw a corridor in which were what appeared to be a row of cells, and when I followed Johnny into one of these, I saw the stone ledge cut in the wall which might have served as a bed for a nun; I saw a narrow slit unprotected by glass which could have been her window.

Johnny set down the lanthorn and grinned at me.

“Now we want a needle and thread,” he said. “Or do we?”

I was alarmed. “I’m sure you won’t find one here.”

“Never mind. There are more important things in life, I do assure you. Give me the mask.”

I refused and turned away, but he was beside me. I might have been very frightened if I hadn’t remembered that this was only Johnny St. Larnston whom I regarded as a boy not much older than myself. With a gesture which took him completely by surprise, and using all my strength, I pushed him from me. He went sprawling backways, tripping over the lanthorn.