The Peculiar Exploits of Brigadier Ffellowes (11 page)

             
"One more peculiar thing occurred on that day in the late afternoon. Betty and I had got a bit separated from the rest of the hunt, a thing I didn't mind one bit, and we also were some distance out from the narrow mouth of the valley proper, for the fox had run very far indeed. As we rode toward home under the warm sun, I noticed that we were passing a small, white, country church, wooden, you know, and rather shabby. As I looked, the minister, parson, or what have you, appeared on the porch, and seeing us, stood still, staring. We were not more than thirty feet apart, for the dusty path, hardly a road at all, ran right next to the church. The minister was a tired-looking soul of about fifty, dressed in an ordinary suit but with a Roman collar, just like the C. of E. curate at home.

             
"But the man's expression! He never looked at me, but he stared at Betty, never moving or speaking, and the venom in his eyes was unmistakable. Hatred and contempt mingled with loathing.

             
"Our horses had stopped and in the silence they fidgeted and stamped. I looked at Betty and saw a look of pain on her face, but she never spoke or moved either. I decided to break the silence myself.

             
" 'Good day, Padre,' I said breezily. 'Nice little church you have here. A jolly spot, lovely trees and all.' I expect I sounded half-witted.

             
"He turned his gaze on me and it changed utterly. The hatred vanished and instead I saw the face of a decent, kindly man, yes and a deeply troubled one. He raised one hand and I thought for a
startled moment he actually was going to bless me, don't you know, but he evidently thought better of it. Instead he spoke, plainly addressing me alone.

             
" 'For the next forty-eight hours this church will remain open. And I will be here.'

             
"With that, he turned on his heel and re-entered the church, shutting the door firmly behind him.

             
" 'Peculiar chap, that,' I said to Betty. 'Seems to have a bit of a down on you, too, if his nasty look was any indication. Is he out of his head, or what? Perhaps I ought to speak to Can, eh?'

             
" 'No,' she said quickly, putting her hand on my arm. 'You
musn't
; promise me you won't say anything to him about this, not a word!'

             
" 'Of course I won't, Betty, but what on earth is wrong with the man? All that mumbo-jumbo about his confounded church
bein
' open?'

             
" 'He—well, he doesn't like any of our family, Donald. Perhaps he has reason. Lots of the people outside the valley aren't too fond of the
Waldrons
. And the Depression hasn't helped matters. Can won't cut down on high living and of course hungry people who see us are furious. Don't let's talk any more about it. Mr. Andrews is a very decent man and I don't want Canler to hear about this. He might be angry and do something unpleasant. No more talk now. Come on, the horses are rested, I'll race you to the main road.'

             
"The horses were
not
rested and we both knew it, but I would never refuse her anything. By the time we rejoined the main body of the hunt, the poor beasts were blown, and we suffered a lot of chaff, mostly directed at me, for not treating our mounts decently.

             
The next day was the thirty-first of October. My stay had only two more days to run and I could hardly bear to think of leaving. But I felt glorious too. The previous night, as I had thrown the bedclothes back, preparatory to climbing in, a small packet had been revealed. Opening it, I had found a worn, tiny cross on a chain, both silver and obviously very old. I recognized the cross as being of the ancient Irish or Gaelic design, rounded and with a circle in the center where the arms joined. There was a note in a delicate hand I knew well, since I'd saved every scrap of paper I'd ever received from her.

             
" ' Wear this for me always and say nothing to anyone.'

             
"Can you imagine how marvelous life seemed? The next hunt morning was so fine it could hardly have been exceeded. But even if it had been terrible and I'd broken a leg, I don't think I'd have noticed. I was wearing Betty's family token, sent to
me,
secretly under my shirt and I came very close to singing aloud. She said nothing to me, save for polite banalities and looked tired, as if she'd not slept too well.

             
"As we rode past a lovely field of gathered shocks of maize, your 'corn,' you know, I noticed all the jolly pumpkins still left lying about in the fields and asked my nearest neighbor, one
of the younger cousins, if the local kids didn't use them for
Hallowe'en
as I'd been told in the papers.

             
" 'Today?' he said, and then gobbled the same words used by the old huntsman, 'Sam Haines,' or perhaps 'Hayne.'

             
" 'We don't call it that,' he added stiffly and before I could ask why or anything else, spurred his horse and rode ahead. I was beginning to wonder, in a vague sort of way, if all this isolation really could be good for people. Canler and Betty seemed increasingly moody and indeed the whole crowd appeared subject to odd moods.

             
"Perhaps a bit inbred,
I thought.
I
must try and get Betty out of here.
Now apparently I'd offended someone by mentioning
Hallowe'en
, which, it occurred to me in passing, was that very evening. 'Sam Haines' indeed!

             
"Well, I promptly forgot all that when we found, located a fox, you know, and the chase started. It was a splendid one and long and we had a very late lunch. I got a good afternoon rest, since Canler had told me we were having a banquet that evening. 'A farewell party for you, Donald,' he said, 'and a special one. We don't dress up much, but tonight we'll have a sort of hunt ball, eh?'

             
"I'd seen no preparations for music, but the big house was so really big that the London Symphony could have been hid somewhere about.

             
"I heard the dinner gong as I finished dressing and when I came down to the main living room, all were assembled, the full hunt, with all the men in their soft emerald green dress coats, to which my blue made a mild contrast. To my surprise, a number of children, although not small ones, were there also, all in party dress, eyes gleaming with excitement. Betty looked lovely in an emerald evening dress, but also very wrought up and her eyes did not meet mine. Once again, a tremendous desire to protect her and get her out of this interesting but rather curious clan came over me.

             
"But Can was pushing his way through the throng and he took me by the elbow. 'Come and be toasted, Donald, as the only outsider,' he said, smiling. 'Here's the family punch and the family punchbowl too, something few others have ever seen.'

             
"At a long table in a side alcove stood an extraordinary bowl, a huge stone thing, with things like runes scratched around the rim. Behind it, in his 'greens' but bareheaded, stood the little withered huntsman, McColl. It was he who filled a squat goblet, but as he did so and handed it to me, his eyes narrowed and he hissed something inaudible over the noise behind me. It sounded like 'watch.' I was alerted and when he handed me the curious stone cup I knew why. There was a folded slip of paper under the cup's base, which I took as I accepted the cup itself. Can, who stood just behind me, could have seen nothing.

             
I'm rather good at conjuring tricks and it was only a moment before I was able to pass my hand over my forehead and read the note at the same instant. The message was simple, the reverse
of Alice's on the bottle.

             
" 'Drink nothing.'
That was all, but it was enough to send a thrill through my veins. I was sure of two things. McColl had never acted this way on his own hook. Betty, to whom the man was obviously devoted, was behind this.

             
"I was in danger. I knew it. All the vague uneasiness I had suppressed during my stay, the peculiar stares, the cryptic remarks, the attitude of the local minister we had seen, all coalesced into something ominous, inchoate but menacing. These cold, good-looking people were not my friends, if indeed they were anyone's. I looked casually about while pretending to sip from my cup. Between me and each one of the three exits, a group of men were standing, chatting and laughing, accepting drinks from trays passed by servants, but
never moving.
As my brain began to race overtime, I actually forgot my warning and sipped from my drink. It was like nothing I have had before or since, being pungent, sweet and at the same time almost perfumed, but not in an unpleasant way. I managed to avoid swallowing all but a tiny bit, but even that was wildly exhilarating, making my face flush and the blood roar through my veins. It must have showed, I expect, for I saw my host half smile and others too, as they raised their cups to me. The sudden wave of anger I felt did not show, but now I really commenced to think.

             
I turned and presented my almost full goblet to McColl again as if asking for more. Without batting an eye, he
emptied
it behind the cover of the great bowl, as if cleaning out some dregs, and refilled it. The little chap had brains. As again I raised the cup to my lips, I saw the smile appear on Can's face once more. My back was to McColl, blocking him off from the rest of the room and this time his rasping penetrating whisper was easy to hear.

             
" 'After dinner, be paralyzed, stiff, frozen in your seat. You can't move, understand?'

             
"I made a circle with my fingers behind my back to show I understood, and then walked out into the room to meet Canler who was coming toward me.

             
" 'Don't stand at the punch all evening, Donald,' he said, laughing. 'You have a long night ahead, you know.' But now his laughter was mocking and his lean, handsome face was suddenly a mask of cruelty and malign purpose. As we moved about together, the faces and manners of the others, both men and women, even the children and servants, were the same, and I wondered that I had ever thought any of them friendly. Under their laughter and banter, I felt contempt, yes and hatred and triumph too, mixed with a streak of pure nastiness. I was the stalled ox, flattered, fattened and fed, and the butchers were amused. They knew my fate, but I would not know until the door of the
abbatoir
closed behind me. But the ox was not quite helpless yet, nor was the door quite slammed shut. I noticed Betty had gone and when I made some comment or other, Can laughed and told me she was checking dinner preparations, as indeed any hostess might. I played my part as well as I could, and apparently well enough. McColl gave me bogus refills when we were alone and I tried to seem excited, full of
joie de vivre,
you know. Whatever other effect was expected was seemingly reserved for after dinner.

             
"Eventually, about nine I should think, we went in to dinner; myself carefully shepherded between several male cousins. These folk were not leaving much to chance, whatever their
purpose.

             
"The great dining room was a blaze of candles and gleaming silver and crystal. I was seated next to Betty at one end of the long table and Canler took the other. Servants began to pour wine and the dinner commenced. At first, the conversation and laughter were, to outward appearances, quite normal. The shrill laughter of the young rose above the deeper tones of their elders. Indeed the sly, feral glances of the children as they watched me surreptitiously were not the least of my unpleasant impressions. Once again and far more strongly, the feeling of being in a den of some savage and predatory brutes returned to me, and this time, it did not leave.

             
"At my side, Betty was the exception. Her face never looked lovelier
—
ivory white in the candle glow, and calm, as if whatever had troubled her earlier had gone. She did not speak much, but her eyes met mine frankly, and I felt stronger, knowing that in the woman I loved, whatever came, I had at least one ally.