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The first thing he knew was Miss Silver’s hand on his arm and her voice saying, ‘We are quite ready now, Mr Fancourt.’
It was a relief to be in motion. Frank Abbott sat in the front of the car with young Hubbard. Jim and Miss Silver were at the back. She did not speak, but sat there with her hands crossed upon her bag and her face pale and still. Jim did not notice her at all. He sat upright, his hands clenched. However fast the car went, he was pushing it a little faster. When Hubbard slowed down to the traffic, he was pushing with all his strength to get him on again. And all the time his mind ran ahead and called on A
A
Down in the village the car stopped to ask the way.
‘Yew Tree Cottage?’ That was Frank Abbott.
The first person he asked did not seem to know. He began, ‘I’m a stranger here-’ but Frank did not wait for anything more.
He tried again, and this time got an answer.
‘Yew Tree Cottage? Oh, yes. But there won’t be no one there. Empty, that’s what it’s been these three years ever since Miss Forest was murdered.’
Jim’s hands tightened. The nails dug into the palms of his hands. She wasn’t here-she wasn’t anywhere. Where was she? A
The man, who was chewing a straw, went on chewing it.
‘Oh, yes, I can tell you how to get there. But no one’s lived in the house since Miss Forest was murdered. It belongs to her niece, and she’s abroad… Oh, she’s back, is she? Well, she hasn’t been down here.’ He was interminably slow, but in the end they got the direction.
What was the use? She wasn’t here, she wasn’t anywhere.
He had missed his chance. Her name came and went in his mind like a voice calling.
Someone else was calling that name. A
With the first of her returning sense the sound was clearer. The shadow of the trees wavered and was gone. She opened her eyes and saw a room, windows, the dark branch of a yew tree, and the clock on the mantelpiece. The clock said a quarter past one. The sound of wheels which had waked her had stopped. Her heart quickened. She was here, in Aunt Letty’s cottage, in great danger. That was the first thought. And then there was a second. Had she really heard a car, and if so, what car?
She jumped up and went to the window. The car had stopped. There was a murmur of voices. What voices? Whose?
Downstairs the two men sat frozen. They had heard a car draw up. The car in which they had come was in the garage, with the door shut. Was it shut? Maxton had been in, and had come out, and had shut the door. He was sure about that. What he wasn’t sure about was whether Ross had been in since. He fixed his eyes upon him, and Ross shook his head. He’d do that anyhow. Neither of them spoke. It wasn’t any good. The kitchen fire was on. The coal was damp. It was smoking. No one would believe the place was empty.
Maxton got up and went to the door. He opened it a little way and said, ‘What is it?’
Three men and an elderly woman. Three men, and one of them Fancourt. He said roughly, ‘What is it?’
Frank Abbott was out of the car. The other two men were getting out. Maxton kept hold of the door and nearly closed it. Anger burst in him, leaving no room for fear.
Jim Fancourt said, ‘Where’s A
‘Why ask me?’ he said.
Jim Fancourt repeated what he had said before.
‘Where is A
Maxton heard the door of the room upstairs open-the door of A
Frank Abbott left the car standing and ran round the house. He got in at the back door, to see Maxton charging up the stairs with a pistol in his hand, and A
Jim Fancourt left battering at the front door and broke the drawing-room window. Inside, A
Miss Silver, descending from the car without haste, was aware of the noise. She heard the fall-the shot, and she had reached the broken window, when she became aware of Ross Cranston edging round the house. She did not know him, but he had a guilty look. She turned and spoke.
‘What are you doing here?’
He swore, and ran away. Into the wood, tearing his clothes on the brambles, thinking of nothing but how he might get away.
Miss Silver watched him out of sight and turned back to the house. From what she could near, the fight was over. Listening at the broken window, she discerned Jim’s voice speaking to A
Miss Silver considered it highly u
CHAPTER 51
It did not take long to find Ross Cranston. He had fallen and sprained an ankle in the wood and there was no fight in him. They put him handcuffed into the car with Frank Abbott between him and Maxton and drove to the nearest place with a secure lock-up, Swan Eaton having nothing to boast about in that respect. The three who remained behind were left to the realisation of their deliverance.
A
It was a strange meal. A
‘I got a letter just before Mavis was married. She was the friend I went round the world with, and she fell headlong in love and married an American. I would have stayed over there a little, but just before the wedding there was a letter from my solicitors, Thompson & Grant, to say that my old great-uncle William Forest had died, and had left all he had between me and my cousin A