It Began in Vauxhall Gardens

"I must be going," she said quickly.

"So soon?"

"I have much to attend to."

"Really? You ca

She did not answer.

"So you really are going to marry him?"

She turned and was hurrying away when he leaped over the gate and caught her arm. "Don't do it, Melisande," he said. "Don't do it."

"Don't do what?"

"Marry a murderer."

Flushing scarlet she wrenched her arm away.

"You may hit me if you like," he said. "You think I deserve it, don't you?"

"I am afraid it would give you a great satisfaction to see me lose my temper, and I do not wish to satisfy you in any way."

"That's a pity, for I would do anything in the world to satisfy you. I think of you continually. That is why I risk your displeasure by begging you to have nothing to do with him."

"What do you know of Mm?"

"That he is a murderer."

"And I know that you are a liar. Do you think that anything you said would carry any weight with me?"

"You must forget your resentment. I could not marry you, Melisande. It was impossible. Don't be angry with the inevitable. But I must prevent your marrying him. Your life would be unsafe with such a man. I tell you he deliberately killed the boy."

"I do not want to hear any more."

"I knew you were headstrong. I knew that you were foolish. But I didn't know that you were a coward, afraid to face the truth."

"You forget. I clearly showed you that you are a coward."

"I did not accept that estimation of my character."

"Nor do I accept yours of mine. I don't believe anything you say. I don't trust you. You are cynical and brutal and I despise you."

"I would rather have your fiery scorn than the lukewarm pity which is all you have for him. The feelings you have for me are at least stronger. That is the hope I cling to."

"You are a fool as well as a brute then, if you would cling to any hope as far as I am concerned."

"Wait until I tell you what I know. Melisande, you've got to listen. This man was poor and now he will be rich. That's true ? You agree?"

"I have no wish to discuss this with you."

"You always run away when you are afraid."

"I am not afraid."

"Then listen to what I have to say, and prove it. I know exactly what happened on the jetty. The wind was howling and it had stopped raining. Everything was set fair for him. He said to the boy, 'Let's go for a walk,' and the boy agreed. They went out. 'Come on to the jetty,' he said, 'it'll be fun watching the waves from there.' The boy agreed. How should he know he was going to his death ? And then, how easy it was. ... A little push ... a little wringing of the hands . . . and then ru

"You were there, I suppose. You saw it all."

"I was not there, but nevertheless I know what happened. If the boy fell in, what would be a man's natural reaction? He would at least attempt to rescue him surely."

"A man who could not swim would be a fool to jump into such a sea. The only sensible thing to do was to run for help, and that is what he did."

"If a man could not swim; that's the point. But, my dear Melisande, Monsieur Leon could swim. He could swim very well."

"It is not true."

"It is true. I have seen him swimming."

"Where?"

"A mile or so along the shore ... in a very quiet cove."

"I don't believe you."

"I thought you wouldn't."

"So there is nothing more to say."

"Yes, there is. The next day I went to the cove again. It was just before midday. He was there again . . . swimming. This time I took the precaution of having one of the grooms with me. Jim Sta

She looked at him incredulously, but a terrible fear was with her.

She said: "Of course I don't believe you."

"AndJimSta

"I've no doubt you have bribed him to do your will."

With that she turned and left him.

She returned to the house and went straight to her room. Peg brought up her luncheon tray. She did not appear to see her, and Peg, ever curious, loitered.

"Is anything wrong, Mamazel?"

Melisande looked at her and did not speak. She had not heard her. She was thinking: Could it be true ? But how could I trust him ?

Could it be that the whole thing was pla

Peg was watching her.

"Mamazel, you've had a shock. You'm frightened, Mamazel."

"I'm all right, Peg."

Peg stared at the carpet. Peg was fond of Mamazel. It frightened Peg when she thought of all the gossip that was going on in the servants' quarters. Seeing Mamazel in this state she couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Mamazel," she said, "don't you marry him! Please, Mamazel, it would be wrong."

Melisande stood up and went over to Peg. She said: "Peg, what do you know ? If you know anything, you ought to tell me. You are my friend, Peg. You should not keep me in the dark."

"Mrs. Soady says as you ought to be kept in the dark. It's Mr. Meaker who ain't sure. He says he's going to see Sir Charles. To ask Sir Charles . . ."

"Peg, I have a right to know. Is it anything to do with . . ."

"It's to do with the French gentleman. Oh, Mamazel, you mustn't marry him. That's what everybody's saying . . . because . . . you see, Mamazel . . . we've seen him. I've seen him myself. Bet and me went one morning. Mr. Meaker, he's seen him and so's the footman. He was swimming in the sea in that quiet cove. . . . Mr. Meaker said that he might have had a chance to save the boy . . .

184 IT BEGAN IN VAUXHALL GARDENS

and ... he pretended he couldn't swim. We don't like it, Mamazel. We don't like it."

"So . . . many of you have seen. Why did I not see?"

"Well, they didn't tell you, Mamazel. They couldn't very well. But they'll all tell you now. There he was . . . swimming in the sea. And only a week or so since he said he couldn't. It's queer. It's frightening, Mamazel. Mrs. Soady's well nigh beside herself. She says foreigners b'ain't like we are. They do terrible things."

"Peg, I know you're my friend."

"We all are, Mamazel. We'd like to see you happy like. . . . And it's all fixed you should stay here ... we hope you won't marry him. Mr. Meaker says nothing can't be proved . . . but he hopes he goes away from here and us never hears no more of him. There'll be a good marriage for 'ee later on. There's as good fish in the sea as ever come out, so Mrs. Soady says. And the master 'ull see you have as good a wedding as Miss Caroline, shouldn't wonder . . . you being his own ... his daughter . . . same as Miss Caroline, only with a difference like. Mr. Meaker says they don't always make all that difference in the best families. I reckon Sir Charles will do something fine for 'ee. But don't 'ee marry that foreigner . . . after what has happened."

"Peg! Peg, what are you saying? / . . . I am Sir Charles's daughter?"