Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (117 page)

"I'll
do
what
you
like,
mother,
so
long
as
you
don't
send
me
away till
after
the
Derby,"
the
boy
said.

"Send
you
away
from
where?
Just
from
this
house?"

"Yes,"
he
said,
gazing
at
her.

"Why,
you
curious
child,
what
makes
you
care
about
this
house
so much,
suddenly?
I
never
knew
you
loved
it!"

He
gazed
at
her
without
speaking.
He
had
a
secret
within
a
secret, something
he
had
not
divulged,
even
to
Bassett
or
to
his
Uncle
Oscar.

But
his
mother,
after'standing
undecided
and
a
little
bit
sullen
for some
moments,
said:

"Very
well,
then!
Don't
go
to
the
seaside
till
after
the
Derby,
if
you
don't
wish
it.
But
promise
me
you
won't
let
your
nerves
go
to
pieces!
Promise
you
won't
think
so
much
about
horse-racing
and
events,
as
you
call
them!"

"Oh,
no!"
said
the
boy,
casually.
"I
won't
think
much
about
them, mother.
You
needn't
worry.
I
wouldn't
worry,
mother,
if
I
were
you."

"If
you
were
me
and
I
were
you,"
said
his
mother,
"I
wonder
what we
should
do!"

"But
you
know
you
needn't
worry,
mother,
don't
you?"
the
boy repeated.

"I
should
be
awfully
glad
to
know
it,"
she
said
wearily. "Oh,
well,
you
can,
you
know.
I
mean
you
ought
to
know
you needn't
worry!"
he
insisted.

"Ought I? Then I'll
see about it," she said.

Pauls
secret of secrets was his wooden horse, that which had no name. Since he was
emancipated from a nurse and a nursery governess, he had had his rocking-horse
removed to his own bedroom at the top of the house.

"Surely
you're too big for a rocking-horse!" his mother had remonstrated.

"Well,
you see, mother, till I can have a real horse, I like to have some sort of
animal about," had been his quaint answer.

"Do you feel he keeps
you company?" she laughed.

"Oh
yes! He's very good, he always keeps me company, when I'm there," said
Paul.

So
the horse, rather shabby, stood in an arrested prance in the boy's bedroom.

The
Derby was drawing near, and the boy grew more and more tense. He hardly heard
what was spoken to him, he was very frail, and his eyes were really uncanny.
His mother had sudden strange seizures of uneasiness about him. Sometimes, for
half an hour, she would feel a sudden anxiety about him that was almost
anguish. She wanted to rush to him at once, and know he was safe.

Two
night before the Derby, she was at a big party in town, when one of her rushes
of anxiety about her boy, her first-bom, gripped her heart till she could
hardly speak. She fought with the feeling, might and main, for she believed in
common-sense. But it was too strong. She had to leave the dance and go
downstairs to telephone to the country. The children's nursery governess was
terribly surprised and startled at being rung up in the night.

"Are the children all
right, Miss Wilmot?"

"Oh, yes, they are
quite all right."

"Master Paul? Is he
all right?"

"He went to bed as
right as a trivet. Shall I run up and look at him?"

"No!"
said Paul's mother reluctantly. "No! Don't trouble. It's all right. Don't
sit up. We shall be home fairly soon." She did not want her son's privacy
intruded upon.

"Very good," said
the governess.

It
was about one o'clock when Paul's mother and father drove up to their house.
All was still. Paul's mother went to her room and slipped off her white fur
cloak. She had told her maid not to wait up
for
her.
She
heard
her
husband
downstairs,
mixing
a
whisky-and-soda.

And
then,
because
of
the
strange
anxiety
at
her
heart,
she
stole upstairs
to
her
son's
room.
Noiselessly
she
went
along
the
upper
corridor.
Was
there
a
faint
noise?
What
was
it?

She
stood,
with
arrested
muscles,
outside
his
door,
listening.
There was
a
strange,
heavy,
and
yet
not
loud
noise.
Her
heart
stood
still.
It was
a
soundless
noise,
yet
rushing
and
powerful.
Something
huge,
in violent,
hushed
motion.
What
was
it?
What
in
God's
Name
was
it? She
ought
to
know.
She
felt
that
she
knew
the
noise.
She
knew
what it
was.

Yet
she
could
not
place
it.
She
couldn't
say
what
it
was.
And
on and
on
it
went,
like
a
madness.

Softly,
frozen
with
anxiety
and
fear,
she
turned
the
door-handle.

The
room
was
dark.
Yet
in
the
space
near
the
window,
she
heard and
saw
something
plunging
to
and
fro.
She
gazed
in
fear
and
amazement.

Then
suddenly
she
switched
on
the
light,
and
saw
her
son,
in
his green
pyjamas,
madly
surging
in
his
rocking-horse.
The
blaze
of
light suddenly
lit
him
up,
as
he
urged
the
wooden
horse,
and
lit
her
up,
as she
stood,
blonde,
in
her
dress
of
pale
green
and
crystal,
in
the
doorway.