'Yes. And tell him to come to the east passage door. It is that door next to the entrance to the stable-yard. There is a little yew-tree outside it. On second thoughts you, dear, must not come back. Wait at Corvsgate in the little inn parlour till Sol comes to you again. You will probably then have to go home to London alone;but do not mind it. The worst part for you will be in going from the station to the Crescent; but nobody will molest you in a four-wheel cab: you have done it before. However, he will tell you if this is necessary when he gets back. I can best fight my battles alone. You shall have a letter from me the day after to-morrow, stating where I am. I shall not be here.'
'But what is it so dreadful?'
'Nothing to frighten you.' But she spoke with a breathlessness that completely nullified the assurance. 'It is merely that I find Imust come to an explanation with Lord Mountclere before I can live here permanently, and I cannot stipulate with him while I am here in his power. Till I write, good-bye. Your things are not unpacked, so let them remain here for the present--they can be sent for.'
Poor Picotee, more agitated than her sister, but never questioning her orders, went downstairs and out of the house. She ran across the shrubberies, into the park, and to the gate whereat Sol had emerged some half-hour earlier. She trotted along upon the turnpike road like a lost doe, crying as she went at the new trouble which had come upon Berta, whatever that trouble might be. Behind her she heard wheels and the stepping of a horse, but she was too concerned to turn her head. The pace of the vehicle slackened, however, when it was abreast of Picotee, and she looked up to see Christopher as the driver.
'Miss Chickerel!' he said, with surprise.
Picotee had quickly looked down again, and she murmured, 'Yes.'
Christopher asked what he could not help asking in the circumstances, 'Would you like to ride?'
'I should be glad,' said she, overcoming her flurry. 'I am anxious to overtake my brother Sol.'
'I have arranged to pick him up at Corvsgate,' said Christopher.
He descended, and assisted her to mount beside him, and drove on again, almost in silence. He was inclined to believe that some supernatural legerdemain had to do with these periodic impacts of Picotee on his path. She sat mute and melancholy till they were within half-a-mile of Corvsgate.
'Thank you,' she said then, perceiving Sol upon the road, 'there is my brother; I will get down now.'
'He was going to ride on to Anglebury with me,' said Julian.
Picotee did not reply, and Sol turned round. Seeing her he instantly exclaimed, 'What's the matter, Picotee?'
She explained to him that he was to go back immediately, and meet her sister at the door by the yew, as Ethelberta had charged her.
Christopher, knowing them so well, was too much an interested member of the group to be left out of confidence, and she included him in her audience.
'And what are you to do?' said Sol to her.
'I am to wait at Corvsgate till you come to me.'
'I can't understand it,' Sol muttered, with a gloomy face. 'There's something wrong; and it was only to be expected; that's what I say, Mr. Julian.'
'If necessary I can take care of Miss Chickerel till you come,' said Christopher.
'Thank you,' said Sol. 'Then I will return to you as soon as I can, at the "Castle" Inn, just ahead. 'Tis very awkward for you to be so burdened by us, Mr. Julian; but we are in a trouble that I don't yet see the bottom of.'
'I know,' said Christopher kindly. 'We will wait for you.'
He then drove on with Picotee to the inn, which was not far off, and Sol returned again to Enckworth. Feeling somewhat like a thief in the night, he zigzagged through the park, behind belts and knots of trees, until he saw the yew, dark and clear, as if drawn in ink upon the fair face of the mansion. The way up to it was in a little cutting between shrubs, the door being a private entrance, sunk below the surface of the lawn, and invisible from other parts of the same front. As soon as he reached it, Ethelberta opened it at once, as if she had listened for his footsteps.
She took him along a passage in the basement, up a flight of steps, and into a huge, solitary, chill apartment. It was the ball-room.
Spacious mirrors in gilt frames formed panels in the lower part of the walls, the remainder being toned in sage-green. In a recess between each mirror was a statue. The ceiling rose in a segmental curve, and bore sprawling upon its face gilt figures of wanton goddesses, cupids, satyrs with tambourines, drums, and trumpets, the whole ceiling seeming alive with them. But the room was very gloomy now, there being little light admitted from without, and the reflections from the mirrors gave a depressing coldness to the scene. It was a place intended to look joyous by night, and whatever it chose to look by day.
'We are safe here,' said she. 'But we must listen for footsteps. Ihave only five minutes: Lord Mountclere is waiting for me. I mean to leave this place, come what may.'
'Why?' said Sol, in astonishment.
'I cannot tell you--something has occurred. God has got me in his power at last, and is going to scourge me for my bad doings--that's what it seems like. Sol, listen to me, and do exactly what I say.
Go to Anglebury, hire a brougham, bring it on as far as Little Enckworth: you will have to meet me with it at one of the park gates later in the evening--probably the west, at half-past seven.
