Legend of the Seventh Virgin (43 page)

“Granny, he killed her!”

“I couldn’t say for certain sure. I couldn’t see clear enough … and even if I had, I couldn’t be sure. One second she were there, poised on the edge, threatening to throw herself down; the next she were gone.”

Events slipped neatly into place: the strangeness of his conduct; his desire to get away; his fear that the mine would be reopened. Then I stared at Granny, remembering that he must have come straight back and asked me to marry him.

Granny went on slowly: “For a second or so he stood there as though like one of the maidens as were turned into stone. Then he looked wildly round him and he saw me standing there in the light of that crescent moon, my dark hair piled high, my mantilla, my comb. He said: ‘Kerensa.’ Quiet … like a whisper almost, but it came to me in the stillness of the night. Then he looked back at the mine and down into the darkness; and I ran, I ran as fast as I could through the circle of stones and across the meadow. I had reached the road when I heard him call again: ‘Kerensa. Kerensa, come here!’”

“Granny,” I said, “he thought I was the one who was standing there. He thought I was the one who saw.”

She nodded. “I went back to the cottage and I sat up all night thinking on what I should do. And then, in the morning, Mellyora Martin brought me your letter. You had run away to Plymouth to marry Johnny St. Larnston.”

“I see,” I said slowly. “He asked me to marry him as a bribe, to say nothing. And I thought it was because he could not do without me. What sort of a marriage was it?”

“On his side for protection lest he should be charged with murder; on yours a big house you’d always craved to be mistress of. You made a big dream, Kerensa, and you paid dear for it.”

I felt numbed by this knowledge. My life seemed to have a different meaning. Chance had shaped my life as much as my own maneuverings, and Hetty Pengaster, whom I had always despised, had played as important a role as myself. And Johnny had not wanted me so desperately, only my silence.

“You never told me, Granny,” I said half reproachfully.

“Not after you were married. What good could it do? And when there was a child coming I knew I was right to keep silent.”

I shuddered. “It was horrible. Johnny thinking that I wanted marriage in exchange for silence. I should never have married him if I had known.”

“Not even for the St. Larnston name, lovey?”

We looked at each other and I answered truthfully as I always must to Granny. “In those days I would have done anything for the St. Larnston name.”

“It was a lesson you had to learn, Granddaughter. Perhaps you’ve learned it now. Perhaps you know that there’s as much happiness to be found inside of four cob walls as in a mansion. If you learned that it don’t matter greatly what you had to pay for the lesson. And now you can start again.”

“Is it possible?”

She nodded. “For listen here. Johnny wouldn’t open the mine and Saul Cundy was determined he should. Saul were going to find out whether there was tin in the mine. He were going down to find out and he did. But he found Hetty too. He’d know why she were down there, and he’d know too that Johnny were responsible, for he’d have heard the whispers. And Johnny going off and marrying you the day she disappeared … well, it do speak for itself.”

I caught my breath. “You think that Saul murdered Johnny because of what he found down the mine?”

“’Tis something I can’t say, not having been seen. But Saul didn’t say nothing about finding Hetty and I know she were down there. Why didn’t he say he did find her there? ’Twere because he be a man who was born dead-set against the gentry and he were determined as Johnny should pay in full. Johnny could withhold the right of men to work for their livings; Johnny could rob a man of his bride. He were not going to trust the law, for he did say often enough there was one for rich and one for poor. Saul did take the law into his own hand. He waylaid Johnny coming home from his gambling, and killed him, I reckon; and where should he be most likely to put him but down the mine shaft. To keep Hetty company! Then away he goes … to St. Agnes … far away from St. Larnston.”

“It’s a terrible story, Granny.”

“Twas a bitter lesson but I knew from the first you’d be one who must learn your own lessons. ’Tweren’t no good my trying to teach you. Find your man, Kerensa; love him as I loved my Pedro, bear his children … and never you mind whether you live in a mansion or a cob-walled cottage. Happiness don’t ask to see who you be afore her sits down at your table. ’Er comes and sits with them as know how to welcome her and keep her the willing guest. ’Tis done with, my love; and happy I be to go now. All be set fair for you. I’ve seen love in your eyes for a man, Kerensa. I’ve seen love for me, love for Joe, love for Carlyon, and now for a man. That’s a powerful lot of love for one person to give, lovey. But Joe have his own wife to cleave to and so will Carlyon one day; and I can’t be with ’ee forever. So I be glad that there be a man you love, and now I shall go happy …”

“Don’t talk of going, Granny. You mustn’t. Do you think I’ll ever be able to do without you?”

“’Tis a good thing to hear said, my sweet Granddaughter, but I’d be sad if I believed it were true. You’ll do without me, because the man you love will be beside you and you’ll grow in love and wisdom. Peace and love … that be the meaning of our names, girl; ’tis the meaning of the good life too. You’ve grown mellow, girl. You ain’t reaching out for what ain’t good for you. Love and be happy … ’tis time you came to that. Forget what be past. The woman you are today is not the same one you were yesterday. ’Tis well to remember that. Never mourn for the past. Never say that were a tragedy. Say that were experience. Because of that I be what I am today — and all the better because I have passed through the fire.”

“But Johnny is missing …”

“Open up the mine, girl. You’ll find him there. I be sure on it. Him and Hetty. There’ll be the old scandal revived, but ’tis better than being tied to a missing man all your life.”

“I’ll do it, Granny,” I said. But as I spoke, a thought struck me which made me catch my breath in horror. Granny was looking at me expectantly and I cried out: “I can’t do it. There’s Carlyon.”

“What of Carlyon?”

“Don’t you see. They’d say he was the son of a murderer.”

Granny was silent for a while. Then she said: “You’m right. It would never do. ’Tis something that would cast a shadow over him all his life. But what of you, my dear? Are you never to be free to marry then?”

It was like a choice between Kim and Carlyon; but I knew Carlyon’s sensitive and gentle nature and I couldn’t let him ever be called the son of a murderer.

Granny began to speak slowly. “There be a way out, Kerensa. It’s coming to me. They’d not be able to tell by now when Hetty died. If they went down the mine they’d find her there … and they’d find Johnny. I reckon Saul Cundy killed Johnny and I reckon Saul be miles away by now. Leave things be awhile; then open the mine. There’s many comes to see me still. I’ll put it about that Hetty have been back, that she have been seen. What if it were to see Hetty, Johnny went to Plymouth, and Saul found out … and caught ’em. Well, he knew there were no tin in the mine, why shouldn’t he have killed ’em both and put their bodies down there?”

I was staring at her incredulously, and I thought: You make life go the way you want. That was her creed. Well, why not?

She seemed more vital than she had for a long time. She was not ready to die yet, not while she could be of help to me.

How I loved her! How I relied on her! When I was with her she made me feel that everything was possible.

“Granny,” I said firmly, “I don’t believe Johnny killed Hetty. It was an accident.”

“It was an accident,” she soothed. She understood. My Carlyon’s father
must
not be a murderer.

Nor must he be suspected of being one.

It was like old times. We drew strength from each other. I knew that I was going to be free and at the same time we would make sure that there would be no danger of the taint of murder touching Carlyon.

We waited for a month. During that time I made a trip to St. Agnes to see if I could find out anything about Saul Cundy. He was not there; he had, I learned, been there for a few days but not to work. It was believed that he and his family had left the country for good, for they had disappeared completely and none knew where they had gone.

This was triumph indeed. I went back and told Granny.

“Don’t wait no longer,” she said. “You’re not one for waiting. I’ve not much time, and I’d like to see ’ee settled afore I go.”

I shut myself in my bedroom. All the morning the experts had been at work. I had heard that safety must be ensured before the descent was made; a mine disused so long could present certain dangers — flooding, falls of earth, and other disasters. It would be a costly matter to discover whether or not the mine would be a business proposition.

Kim came riding over to the Dower House. I was glad that Mellyora was out with Carlyon. Daisy came up to tell me that he was downstairs, and I said I would shortly be with him. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a young woman, many would say in my prime. In my lavender morning dress with the lace at the throat and sleeves and the satin ribbons I was beautiful. Granny was right: being in love put a shine on one. My hair had more luster. I wore it piled high on my head; the brilliance of my eyes made them look bigger. I was pleased with myself as I went down to greet Kim; and I knew that perhaps this very day would prove me a free woman.

As I opened the door of the sitting room I saw him standing by the fireplace, legs apart, his hand in his pocket; there was a tender smile about his lips which I felt sure was for me.

He came towards me, took both my hands, his eyes smiling, faintly amused.

“Kerensa!” He even said my name as though it amused him.

“It was good of you to call.”

He put his head on one side, and smiled. “You are amused?” I asked.

“Pleasantly so.”

“I’m glad I can pleasantly amuse you.”

He laughed and drew me to the window.

“What a noise they are making in the meadow today.”

“Yes. At last they’re getting to work.”

“And the outcome means a lot to you, Kerensa.”

I flushed, afraid for the moment that he knew the real reason. Kim’s eyes seemed to have become more penetrating while he had been away, there was an air of wisdom about him which I found attractive but which alarmed me faintly.

“It’s important that we should be able to work the mine again.”

I summoned Daisy to bring wine and the special biscuits which had always been kept for visitors at the Abbas — a custom, like many others, which I had brought to the Dower House.

We sat at a small table sipping the wine, and looking round the room he said: “It’s a warmer place than it was when I lived here. It’s a strange feeling, Kerensa, to come back to a house that has been home to you and to find it is someone else’s home, different furniture, different faces, different atmosphere …”

“I always used to envy your living at the Dower House.”

“I know. I saw it in your face. You had the most expressive face in the world, Kerensa. You could never hide your feelings.”

“How alarming. I hope that’s not the case now.”

“Such scorn! Such pride! I never saw anyone so scornful nor so proud.”

“I was an angry child.”

“Poor Kerensa.” He laughed. “I remember your standing in the wall … the broken wall. The Seventh Virgin. Do you remember how taken we were with the story at that time.”

“Yes. That was why I came to look.”

“We all came. We all met there.”

I saw it all clearly. Myself, Mellyora. Justin, Johnny and Kim.

“We teased you horribly, I’m afraid. We made you very angry. I can see you now … turning to put out your tongue. I’ve never forgotten.”

“I wish you had something more pleasant to remember!”

“There was Miss Carlyon at the ball. Magnificent in red velvet. And there was that night in the woods … You see, Kerensa, I remember so much of the past. You and Mellyora at the ball! Mellyora having brought you without the knowledge of the hostess!” He laughed. “It made the ball for me. I’d always found them a bore. But that ball … I’ve never forgotten. I’ve often laughed about the way Mellyora secured your invitation …”