CHAPTER III
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
When Merriton shaved himself next morning he laughed at the reflectionthat the mirror cast back at him. For he looked for all the world asthough he had been up all night and his knee was painful and ratherstiff, as though he had strained some ligament in it.
"Beastly place is beginning to make its mark on me already!" he said, ashe lathered his chin. "My eyes look as though they had been stuck in withburnt cork, and--the devil take my shaky hand! And that railroad businessyesterday helps it along. A nice state of affairs for a chap of my age, Imust say! Scared as a kid at an old wives' story. Borkins is a fool, andI'm an idiot.... Damn! there's a bit off my chin for a start. I hope togoodness no one takes it into their heads to pay me a visit to-day."
His hopes, however, in this direction were not to be realized, for asthe afternoon wore itself slowly away in a ramble round the old place,and through the stables--which in their day had been famous--the big,harsh-throated doorbell rang, and Merriton, in the very act of tellingBorkins that he was officially "not in," happened to catch a glimpse ofsomething light and fluffy through the stained-glass of the door, andsuddenly kept his counsel.
A few seconds later Borkins ushered in two visitors. Merriton, preparedby the convenient glass for the appearance of one was nevertheless notunpleased to see the other. For the names that Borkins rolled off histongue with much relish were those of "Miss Brellier and Mr. Brellier,sir."
His lady of the thrice blessed wreck! His lady of the dainty accent andglorious eyes.
His face glowed suddenly and he crossed the big room in a couple ofstrides and in the next second was holding Antoinette's hand ratherlonger than was necessary, and was looking down into the rouguishgreeny-gray eyes that had captivated him only yesterday, when for oneterrible, glorious moment he had held her in his arms, while the railroadcoach dissolved around them.
"Are you fit to be about?" he said, his voice ringing with the veryevident pleasure that he felt at this meeting with her, and his eyeswandering to where a strip of pink court plaster upon her forehead showedfaintly through the screen of hair that covered it. Then he dropped herhand and turned toward the man who stood a pace or two behind her tinyfigure, looking at him with the bluest, youngest eyes he had ever lookedinto.
"Mr. Brellier, is it not? Very good of you, sir, to come across in thisneighbourly fashion. Won't you sit down?"
"Yes," said Antoinette, gaily, "my uncle. I brought him right over bytelling him of our adventure."
The man was tall and heavily built, with a wealth of black hair thicklystreaked with gray, and a trim, well-kept "imperial" which gave him theforeign air that his name carried out so well. His morning suit wasextremely well cut, and his whole bearing that of the well-to-do manabout town. Merriton registered all this in his mind's eye, and wassecretly very glad of it. They were two thoroughbreds--that was easy tosee.
And as for Antoinette! Well, he could barely keep his eyes from her.She was lovelier than ever, and clad this afternoon in all the fluffyfemininity that every man loves. Anything more intoxicatingly deliciousMerriton had never seen outside of his own dreams.
"It was certainly ripping of you both to come," he said nervously,feeling all hands and feet. "Never saw such a lonely spot in all my life,by George, as this house! It fairly gives you the creeps!"
"Indeed?" Brellier laughed in a deep, full-throated voice. "For my partthe loneliness is what so much appeals to me. When one has spent a busylife travelling to and fro over the world, m'sieur, one can butappreciate the peaceful backwaters which are so often to be found in thisvery dear, very delightful England of yours. But that is not the missionupon which I come. I have to thank you, sir, for the great kindness andconsideration you displayed to my niece yesterday."
His English was excellent, and he spoke with the clipped, careful accentof the foreigner, which Merriton found fascinating. He had alreadysuccumbed to something of the same thing in Antoinette. He was beginningto enjoy himself very much indeed.
"There was no need for thanks--none at all.... What is your opinion ofthe Towers, Miss Brellier?" he asked suddenly, leaning forward towardher, anxious to change the conversation.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"That is hardly a fair question to ask!" she responded, "when I have beenin it but a matter of five minutes or more. But everything to me isenchanting! The architecture, the furnishings, the very atmosphere--"
"Brrh! If you could have been here last night!" He gave a mock shudderand broke it with a laugh. "Why, a truly haunted house wasn't a patch onit! If this place hasn't got a ghost, well then I'll eat my hat! I couldfairly hear 'em, dozens and dozens of them, clinking and clanking allover the place. And if you could see my room! I sleep in a four-poster asbig as a suburban villa, and every now and again the furniture gives acomfy little crack or two, like someone practising with a pistol, just toremind me that my great-great-great-grandmother's ghost is sitting in thewardrobe and watching over me with true great-etc.-grandmotherlyconscientiousness.... I say, do you ride? There ought to be some rippin'rides round here, if my memory doesn't fail me."
She nodded, and the conversation took a turn that Sir Nigel found morethan pleasant, and the time passed most agreeably.
Merriton, only anxious to entertain his guests, suddenly exploded thebomb which shattered that afternoon's enjoyment for all three of them.
"By the way," he remarked, "last night, while I was lying awake I sawa lot of funny flames dancing up and down upon the horizon. Seemed asthough they lay in the marshes between your place and mine, Mr. Brellier.Borkins pulled a long story about 'em with all the usual trimmin's. Saidthey were supernatural and all that. Ever seen 'em yourself? I must saythey gave me a bit of a turn. I'm not keen on spirits--except in bottleform (which by the way is a rotten bad pun, Miss Brellier,) but in Indiaone gets chockful of that sort of thing, and there never seems to be anyrational explanation. It leaves you feeling funny. What's your opinion of'em? For seen 'em you must have done, as they seem to be the talk of thewhole village from what Borkins says."
Antoinette's spoon tinkled in the saucer of the tea-cup she was holdingand her face went white. Brellier shifted his eyes. A sort of tension hadsettled suddenly over the pleasant room.
"I--well, to tell you the truth, I can't explain 'em myself!" Brelliersaid at last, clearing his throat with signs of genuine nervousness."They seem to be inexplicable. I have seen them--yes, many, manytimes. And so has 'Toinette, but the stories afloat about them arerather--unpleasant, and like a wise man I have kept myself free ofinvestigation. I do hope you'll do the same, Sir Nigel. One never knows,and although one cannot always believe the silly things which thevillagers prattle about, it is as well to be on the safe side. As yousay, these things sometimes lack a rational explanation. I should besorry to think you were likely to run into any unnecessary danger." Hebent his head and Merriton could see that his fingers twitched.
"Borkins actually told me stories of people who had disappeared in amysterious manner and were never found again," he remarked casually.
Brellier shrugged his shoulders. He spread out his hands.
"Among the uneducated--what would you? But it is so, even since I myselfhave been in residence at Withersby Hall--something like three and a halfyears--there have been several mysterious disappearances, Sir Nigel, andall directly traceable to a foolhardy desire to investigate thesephenomena. For myself, I leave well enough alone. I trust you are goingto do likewise?"
His eyes searched Merriton's face anxiously. There was a worried furrowbetween his brows.
Merriton laughed, and at the sound, 'Toinette, who had sat perfectlystill during the discussion of the mystery, gave a little cry of alarmand covered her ears with her hands.
"I beg of you," she broke out excitedly, "please, please do not talkabout it! The whole affair frightens me! Uncle will laugh I know, but--Iam terrified of those little flames, Sir Nigel, more terrified than I cansay! If you speak of them any more,
I must go--really! Please, _please_don't dream of trying to find out what they are, Sir Nigel! It--it wouldupset me very much indeed if you attempted so foolish a thing!"
Merriton's first sensation at hearing this was pleasure that he wascapable of upsetting her over his own personal welfare. Then thesomething sinister about the whole story, which seemed to affect everyone with whom he came into touch, swept over him. A number of otherwiserational human beings scared out of their wits over some mysteriousflames on the edge of the Fens at night time, seemed, in the face of thisglorious summer's afternoon, to be little short of ridiculous. He triedto throw the idea off but could not. 'Toinette's pale face kept comingbefore him; the sudden dropping of her spoon struck an unpleasant chordin his memory. Brellier's attitude merely added fuel to the fire and soonthey rose to go, Merriton following them to the door.
"Don't forget, then, Miss Brellier, that you are booked to me for a rideon Thursday," he said, laughingly.
She nodded to him and gave his hand a little squeeze at parting.
"I shall not forget, Sir Nigel. But--you will promise me," her voicedropped a tone or two, "you will promise me that you will not try andfind out what those--those flames are, won't you? I could not sleep ifyou did." And they were gone.
Merriton stood awhile in silence, his brows puckered and his mouth stern.First Borkins, and then Brellier, and now--_her_! All of them begging himalmost upon their knees to forego a perfectly harmless little quest ofdiscovery. There seemed to his mind something almost fishy about it all.What then were these "Frozen Flames"? What secret did they hide? And whatmalignant power dwelt behind the screen of their mystery?