The Whispering Knights (Mrs. Bradley) Page 10

  But for these two people (who turned out, as Stewart had told Laura, to be the nuns), the party, who in any case were due to break the journey and put in a night at Fort William, would have made the very short sea-passage from Kyle of Lochalsh to Kyleakin on Skye, driven north to Uig and made the shorter crossing to Tarbert on Harris, and from there driven up to Stornoway.

  After the last breakfast at Ardrossan, Owen made his announcement of a change of plan. “Some of us,” he said, “Stewart and myself in particular, have decided to stay on in Inverness and study the Clava complex instead of crossing to Lewis. The party, I regret to say, is about to break up this morning in any case. Lionel and Clarissa are leaving us and returning home.”

  It was not until they were being seen off by the others that the rest of the party knew that not only Lionel and Clarissa were departing, but that Catherine was going with them. The explanation given by Owen, who seemed somewhat ruffled, was that she was due to lecture in America at the end of the month and had become apprehensive lest there were still last-minute arrangements which might need to be altered.

  “Just nerves,” he said; an observation which hardly coincided with what the majority of the party knew of Catherine.

  “At any rate, Mr. Stewart seems to be staying with the main party,” said Dame Beatrice. “I half-wondered whether he might have made up his mind to go home in Lionel’s car, but it seems not to be so.”

  “He surely can’t prefer Catherine to Capella?”

  “Who can tell? Miss Catherine has great, although, perhaps, somewhat forbidding beauty.”

  Dame Beatrice managed to get a word in private with Sister Pascal while Sister Veronica had gone upstairs to inspect both the hotel rooms to make sure that nothing had been left in drawers or wardrobes by the nuns.

  “I will do as you say,” said the prioress, “but make your mind easy, dear Dame Beatrice. We are to be accommodated in a convent in Inverness and as soon as we have visited the Clava stones, where I shall see to it that Sister Veronica does not leave my side, we are returning to London and from there to Exeter by train. The atmosphere of the tour has changed. I am fully conscious of it. Something happened over that stupid game and I am sorry that I was given the prize.”

  “You can always raffle it in aid of some good cause.”

  The nun smiled and said that as the card was unmarked such a solution had already occurred to her. Then she became grave again and asked why Dame Beatrice had fears for Sister Veronica’s safety, for the young nun could harm nobody. Dame Beatrice replied that she had meant only that precautions should be taken because of the rumours which had gone around that the two youngest of the party had seen “things which, to the rest of us, are not there, my dear Sister.”

  “We are accustomed to Sister Veronica’s strange gift,” said Pascal. “She has often, and sometimes against her will, demonstrated it. On occasion it has proved useful, too. An unscrupulous landowner once demanded that we produce the title-deeds to one of our Houses, having, no doubt, heard that the head of our Order had never disclosed where she had put the papers. Sister Veronica, after we had searched everywhere, said one evening that there was somebody at the door, but the portress had heard nothing and neither had the rest of the Sisters. The door was opened, but nobody was there. Sister Veronica then asked permission to answer the door herself. This was given and she returned to say that Mother Ambrose had told her that the deeds were in an iron box under the floor of the Community Room. Well, there they were, of course. I may add, and this will not surprise you, that Mother Ambrose had been dead for months.”

  “I have heard of such instances. People with Sister Veronica’s gift are not to be envied. I am making myself responsible for Miss Babbacombe-Starr. Both these young women may be in some danger and so may Professor Owen’s cousin Catherine. I would have warned her, had I known that she was not remaining with the party. She has gone, it seems, with Lionel and Clarissa.”

  “Those two are brother and sister, are they not?”

  “I think they are unidentical twins.”

  “Theirs is a strange relationship.”

  Dame Beatrice did not ask what the nun meant. Considering all the circumstances, the remark was a charitable one, and she respected Sister Pascal for not enlarging upon it. They parted when Sister Veronica came back. Dame Beatrice sought out Capella and said, “We propose to leave Inverness as previously arranged, and sail from Ullapool to Stornoway and return from Tarbert on Harris to Uig on Skye. We shall probably spend two or three nights on Skye and then meander home at our leisure with two or three stops en route. I want you to join us.”

  “Oh, but—” said Capella.

  “You are in a hurry to return home?” asked Dame Beatrice.

  “It isn’t that. It’s just—well—I was prepared for one night at Stornoway, but it’s—”

  “The money,” said the practical Laura, who was with them. “It’s all right. Dame B. will stand Sam. She has decided that she likes your company.”

  “Oh, but, really!”

  “I had hoped to add Miss Catherine to my little party,” said Dame Beatrice, “but it is not to be.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Capella helplessly. “You can’t really want my company. We’ve had almost nothing to do with one another.”

  “Don’t look a gift horse in the teeth, my love,” said Laura. “Callanish is second only to Stonehenge in importance and I’m more than delighted to have the chance to see it.”

  “We can fly back to Inverness from Stornoway and see Clava, and go home from there, if you wish. There is a flight every day and it only takes about forty minutes,” said Dame Beatrice, “but I think a little holiday on Skye—”

  “But, look here—” said Capella.

  “Stop trying to argue,” said Laura roundly. “Weren’t you brought up to do as you’re told? Don’t you want to see Callanish and then go on to Skye?”

  “Yes, of course, only—”

  “My child,” said Dame Beatrice, “as there appears to be no reason for you to hurry home, I really think that you should indulge a very old woman.”

  “Well, I—well, thank you very much, but I don’t understand in the least why you want me with you.”

  “ ‘So wonder on, till Truth make all things plain,’ ” said Laura.

  “Oh, it’s something to do with that silly Truth Game, is it?”

  “Is it?” asked Dame Beatrice. “Why will you insist on finding reasons? I am entitled to my whims and fancies, and you will be company for Laura.”

  “With whom you will share a room,” said Laura. “Sorry about that, but you know what high-season bookings are like. You have to take what you can get.” She had seen Stewart come into earshot. He strolled up to them.

  “There was a spare seat beside Catherine in Lionel’s car,” said Capella pointedly. “Wouldn’t you rather have had that than stay with Owen?”

  “No, but thank you kindly for asking,” he replied. “I can’t miss the chance to study Clava. Why don’t you walk round with me? There will be lots I can tell you.”

  “There was no plan originally to visit the Clava stones,” said Dame Beatrice. “We were promised Callanish, and that is where we are going.”

  “I’ve been there. Oh, well!” He smiled at them all. “We’ve still got a couple of days together.”

  They left Inverness early on the appointed morning and drove westward across moorland wastes, with a fine view of An Teallach’s three and a half thousand feet to break the monotonous foreground.

  When they reached Ullapool they found it crowded with summer visitors; there was a long queue of foot-passengers waiting for the ferry and a long line of cars with bored but patient drivers also waiting to cross to the islands.

  There was very little deck-space on the ferry and, in any case, there was little incentive to stay outside, for a strong wind was blowing, the sky was heavy with cloud, and, after the first uncomfortable twenty minutes, even Laura was forced to take shelter a
s the rain began to fall. The saloon was full, every seat taken, so she went below and found room at a table in the canteen, but she was thankful when the crossing ended in the harbour of Stornoway and she could get her car on to the quay and to the hotel she had booked over the telephone.

  The hotel was a very large building on rising ground, but not far from the sea. The party were shown to a double and a single room reached by a long, inconvenient route which involved traversing two enormous public rooms, descending a stone staircase with an iron handrail, following a concreted corridor, and mounting a flight of carpeted wooden stairs at the far end of it.

  “Well,” said Laura, when they reached the little suite, “I should have something to say about this Sabbath day’s journey if ours had not been an altered booking. The plan had been only for a one-night stay.”

  “We shall obtain plenty of exercise, at any rate,” said Dame Beatrice placidly, surveying her small apartment with an indulgent eye. “We have some time to spare before dinner. What do you propose to do with the rest of your day?”

  “Subject to your approval, I am going to have a wash and then go out and explore the town,” said Laura. “And you?”

  “I shall find my way about the hotel and then rest until dinnertime.”

  On her way out Laura almost ran into Capella, who was emerging from the bathroom. Capella asked whether she was going for a walk and upon receiving an affirmative reply, said that, if Laura had no objection, she would like to accompany her. In the ordinary way Laura would have preferred a solitary excursion, but under the circumstances she was well pleased to have the girl with her and they set out together. Laura was determined on one thing: if she was obliged to have company, at least she would select the route.

  This led automatically to the harbour and then they traversed the town itself. Laura was surprised to find it so large, so modern, and so well supplied with the kind of shops she would have expected in any mainland town of comparable size. Back at the quay, Laura looked across to the other side of the harbour where, well above the shore-line, there were trees.

  “I thought Lewis was all peat,” she said. “I certainly didn’t expect to see woodland.”

  “No. Trees are unusual in the Outer Hebrides,” agreed Capella. “I believe the peat doesn’t extend over the whole of Lewis, though. I read that there is more fertile land on the west side. I say, Mrs. Gavin . . .” She paused and also halted. Laura eased up and they stood gazing over the water. After a bit Capella went on: “Well, this is going to sound childish and so silly that you’re the only person I have nerve enough to confide in.”

  “Thanks for the double-edged compliment.”

  “Oh, no, I assure you! What I mean is that you seem so safe and sensible.”

  “Motherly is the word you’re looking for and, as I am the mother of two, one about your age and the other a few years older, you have come to the right shop, although I can’t think what you want to buy from me.”

  “Does your Dame Beatrice analyse dreams?”

  “She’s interested in them. I expect all psychiatrists would be, wouldn’t they?”

  “Well, I’m not a very good traveller on the sea. When we got on board I took a fairly strong tranquilliser, got myself an armchair in the saloon before they were all occupied, and went to sleep.”

  “Sensible girl! It was rather a beastly crossing, anyway. I was extremely disappointed. I’d been rather looking forward to it. Incidentally, you seemed all right when we crossed over to Arran.”

  “Oh, that was different. It was a lovely day and the sea was quite calm. I was able to stay out in the fresh air, and it was a short passage, anyway.”

  “Sorry I interrupted. You were saying you went to sleep on the boat and I think you were talking about dreams.”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not. Was yours a bad one?”

  “I don’t know. It seemed all right and quite natural, but I don’t think I want to go to Callanish tomorrow.”

  “Pity to miss it when you’ve come all this way.”

  “Well, if I do go, you won’t mind if I dog your footsteps, will you? There’s strength and a self-confidence about you that will protect me from evil.”

  Laura began to think that the identity of Dame Beatrice’s prospective patient was being very clearly revealed. The girl spoke quietly and with sincerity, but Laura knew enough of Dame Beatrice’s work to realise that these were not necessarily symptoms of rationality. With misgivings she said,

  “Of course you must walk round with us tomorrow. I shall be with Dame B. all the time, and she’s the tower of strength, not I. You certainly won’t come to any harm in her company.”

  “Thank you. Well, about this dream: I ought to begin by telling you that although I may have seen a picture of the Callanish stones, it would have been so long ago that I’ve forgotten them and I’ve never before been on Lewis in my life, so I don’t suppose the stone circle I saw in my dream will bear any relationship whatever to the real thing. If it doesn’t I shall be very thankful, I can tell you.”

  “This sounds interesting,” said Laura. “Say on.”

  “I found myself on rising ground with my back to the sea, or perhaps it was a loch. Anyway, it was water. I didn’t turn my head to look, but I knew there was water quite near. The stones have to be near water. Did you know that? Well, never mind. There was a crowd of people and we were all looking down towards the stones. They formed quite a different pattern from anything I’d seen before. I don’t mean only the stone circles we’ve seen on this trip. When I was about twelve or so, my father took us to see stone circles which he thought were connected with our names. Mine was the circle in Oxfordshire called the Rollright Stones. For a long time I forgot all about them and there was a poltergeist interlude which was a bit frightening but far more interesting and, in a way, rather fun. When I read Professor Owen’s advertisement and remembered the pilgrimage with my father, I wrote to Owen and I was very pleased when my application was accepted.”

  She stopped speaking. Laura began to walk on, remarking, “You were on rising ground with your back to the sea or a loch or something. This was part of your dream?”

  “Oh, yes. I was looking down on the standing stones and wondering why we had never finished the four avenues.”

  “Four avenues?” said the startled Laura, who had seen photographs of the stones. “How did you know there were four avenues? Oh, photographs, of course.”

  “The whole thing looked like a Celtic cross. The stone circle was the middle of it, the avenue nearest me formed the top of the cross, but this had only five stones. It looked as though, after we had erected four stones on one side and one on the other, we had tired of the job, and the same seemed true of the two arms of the cross, for they weren’t avenues at all, but tall stones set in a single line right and left of the stone circle. The only true avenue of stones was what you might call the long stem of the cross. This was on the further side of the stone circle from where I was standing and I could look straight down it.”

  “Remarkable, if all you had seen was a photograph. What was the circle itself like?”

  “It was made up of tall stones with one of them, the tallest, standing slightly inside the rest of the ring as though it had an importance the others did not have. It was as though it was there to guard the tomb.”

  “The tomb?” Again Laura was astonished. It was almost impossible to distinguish its tiny remains in any photograph she had seen.

  “There was a hole in the ground inside the stone circle. Suddenly there was a lot of shouting. I knew everybody was shouting, although in my dream I couldn’t hear a thing. I knew I was shouting, too, although no voice came. Then everything went dark and a great star shone and fires were lighted. Then two processions formed up, one on our side and the other at the end of the long completed avenue opposite us, and there was singing, but again I could not hear it although I was joining in. Can you hear sounds when you are dreaming, Laura? I may call you La
ura, mayn’t I?”

  “Sure you may. No, come to think of it, I don’t believe I do hear sounds in my dreams. Tell you another strange thing that always comes about in my dreams. I happen to be a very keen swimmer and more often than not there is a lovely stretch of water in my dream. Sometimes it’s a river, sometimes a lake or a pond, sometimes only flood-water covering the garden, but always deep enough for swimming, although it’s never, strangely enough, the sea. Anyway, as soon as, full of joyful anticipation, I begin to swim, the water all disappears and I find myself scrabbling about on little stones or mud. I can never get to swim. Dreadfully disappointing and frustrating. Talking of water, one of the other guests in the hotel as we came through the lounge was mentioning a family of seals here in the harbour. The fishermen feed them. They believe they bring luck and will see the men don’t drown.”

  “There were seals in my dream. They came to us when the fertility rites were over.”

  “The fertility rites?”

  “Yes. First into the stone circle came a man wearing a sort of apron made from feathers. They were ducks’ feathers, although how I knew that I can’t explain. Well, there was more singing and people were stamping their feet and the man in duck feathers began to dance and I think there were other bonfires somewhere further off. As he danced the singing got wilder and one by one the men who were near me ran into the circle and danced too, and then all the women with me disappeared. The bonfires died down, the great star—I knew it was Capella, my star—came very close to one of the tallest stones, and then the seals came.”

  “ ‘The great silkie of Sule Skerry,’ ” muttered Laura.

  “No, they must all have been females, because as soon as they flippered their way into the circle they all turned into beautiful girls who danced with the men,” said Capella.

  “There are all sorts of tales,” said Laura, “and I expect you’ve read them at some time.”