CHAPTER XVIII
Meanwhile Timmy, upstairs, had performed what was for him quite anelaborate toilet. He possessed a new Eton suit of which he was secretlyproud, for in this as in so many things unlike most little boys, he tookgreat care of his clothes, and had an almost finicking dislike to whatwas rough or untidy. His two younger sisters' untidiness was a perpetualannoyance to him, and he still felt sore and angry at the way Rosamundhad upset his toy-box when looking for that old prescription.
To-night he felt queerly excited and above himself. After-dinner coffeehad been made in a way Betty had learnt in France, and she had foolishlyallowed him to drink a cup of the strong, potent, delicious fluid. Thishad had a curious effect on him, intensifying his already acuteperceptions, and making him feel both brave and bold as well aswary--wary Timmy Tosswill always was.
And now he was eagerly debating within himself whether he could carryout an experiment he had an eager wish to try. It had filled his mind,subconsciously, ever since he had slipped quickly in front of his brotherJack to open the front door to Mrs. Crofton, a couple of hours ago.
Mrs. Crofton was very much of a town lady, and she had actually beenaccompanied, during her short progress through the dark village, by herparlourmaid. When Timmy opened the front door, she had been engaged ingiving the girl a few last directions as to how a lighted candle was tobe left out for her in her hall, for she had brought her latchkey withher. After ringing the bell, the lady and her maid had moved away fromthe door a little way, and Timmy, staring out at the two figures, whostood illumined by the hall light out on the gravel carriage drive, hadseen Something Else.
He did not invariably see Mrs. Crofton accompanied or companioned by thatof which he had spoken to his mother. Sometimes days would go by and hewould see nothing, though he was a constant, if never a welcome, visitorat The Trellis House.
Then all at once, sometimes when she was in the garden, at other timesin the charming little parlour, Timmy would see the wraith of ColonelCrofton, and the wraith of Colonel Crofton's terrier, Dandy, looking asreal as the flesh-and-blood woman beside whom they seemed to stand.Sometimes they appeared, as it were, intermittently, but now and againthey would stay quite a long time.
As long as he could remember, Timmy had been aware of what Nannaexpressed by the phrase "things that were not there," and he was soaccustomed to the phenomena that it did not impress his own mind asanything very much out of the way, or strange.
Dr. O'Farrell had always shown a keen interest in Timmy's alleged visionsand presentiments. Like so many country doctors of the old school, hewas a man not only of great natural shrewdness, but of considerableintellectual curiosity, and, from his point of view, by far the mostinexplicable of the little boy's assertions had concerned a long vanishedbuilding which had stood, for something like three centuries, close tothe parish church, right on the main street of the village.
One Easter Sunday, Timmy, coming out of church, had excitedly exclaimedthat he saw to his right a house where no house had been up to yesterday.His sisters had laughed at him and his mother had snubbed him. But whenJanet had told Dr. O'Farrell of her little boy's latest and most peculiarclaim to having seen something which was not there, the doctor had gonehome and looked up an old county history, to find that up to Waterlooyear there had still been standing in the pretty little hamlet ofBeechfield, a small Elizabethan manor-house which had figured in theTitus Oates conspiracy.
* * * * *
But to return to the evening of Mrs. Crofton's second visit to Old Place.
Timmy had given his mother his word of honour that Flick should not bereleased from the stable till their visitor had left. But no casuistever realised more clearly than did Timothy Tosswill, the delicatedistinctions which spread, web-like, between the spirit, and the letter,of a law. And while he moved nimbly about his bedroom, the plan, orrather the plot he had formed, took formal shape.
Josephine, Timmy's white Angora cat, was now established in a comfortablebasket in a corner of the scullery. There she lay, looking like a ball ofermine, with her two ten-days old kittens snuggling up close to her.Josephine was a nervous, fussy mother, but she was devoted to her master,and he could do with her anything he liked.
Very softly he crept past Nanna's door, and as he started walking downthe back staircase, he heard voices.
Then Betty and Godfrey were still in the scullery? That was certainly abit of bad luck, for though he thought he could manage his godfather, heknew he couldn't deceive Betty. Betty somehow seemed to know by instinctwhen he, Timmy, was bent on some pleasant little bit of mischief.
He need not have been afraid, for as he slowly opened the door at thebottom of the stairs, Betty exclaimed, "I'm going into the drawing-roomafter all! But first I must run upstairs and make myself tidy. You two goon, and I'll follow as soon as I can."
She ran past Timmy, and at once the boy said firmly to Radmore, "I'mgoing to take my cat, Josephine, into the drawing-room. Ladies who hatedogs nearly always like cats."
"I don't think Mrs. Crofton cares for cats," answered Radmore carelessly.
"Oh, yes, she does--and the other day she said The Trellis House wasoverrun with mice. Betty thinks it would be a very good home for one ofJosephine's new kittens."
Even while he was speaking, the big white cat had left her basket and waswalking round her master, purring. He stooped down and lifted her up.
"If Mrs. Crofton sees Josephine, she will simply long to have one of herkittens! Will you bring along the white one, Godfrey--the one we callPuff? We do so want to find him a good home."
Radmore walked across to where the big basket stood on the floor, andpeered into it dubiously: "Why, Timmy, they're tiny! Poor littlewretches! I wouldn't dream of bringing one of them along--it would besheer cruelty. Of course you can bring the cat if you feel like it, butI shouldn't if I were you."
"I'll only take her in for a minute."
Timmy felt just a little sorry Radmore had refused to bring Puff along,for he was well aware that a cat is never so fierce as when she imaginesshe is defending her young.
They went off together, Radmore in front, Timmy, hugging Josephine,behind. Just outside the drawing-room door the boy stopped for a moment,and shifted the cat's weight from one arm to the other. There had comeover him a rather uncomfortable premonition of evil, but he now feltstrung up to go through with his experiment.
From within the drawing-room there came the sound of laughter andtalking. It was evident that the party was going well, and that everyonein there was merry and at their ease.
"Would you mind opening the door, Godfrey?" There was a slight quiver ofapprehension in Timmy's voice.
Radmore opened the door, and for a fleeting moment he saw an attractive,placid scene spread out before him.
The two girls, in their pretty light dresses, were standing by the woodfire. On the sofa, to their left, with the light from one of the lampsfocussed full on her, sat Mrs. Crofton, her bare left arm hanging overthe side of the low couch. Jack, perched on the arm of a big chair, waslooking at her, all his soul in his eyes. Mr. Tosswill sat some way offunder a shaded reading lamp; his wife, knitting, not far from him. Tomwas surreptitiously reading a book in a corner behind the sofa.
And then, all at once, Radmore found himself whirled into an unutterablescene of confusion and terror.
As Timmy walked through the open door Josephine had leapt out of his armson to the floor. For a flashing second the cat stood on the carpet, herwhite fur all abristle, her back arched, and her tail lashing furiouslyin the air. Then, uttering a hoarse cry of rage and fear, she sprangtowards Mrs. Crofton, and dug first her claws, and then her teeth, intothe white arm that hung over the side of the couch.... Josephine'sterrified victim gave a fearful cry, everyone in the room got up andrushed forward, and at that exact instant Betty came into thedrawing-room. Sweeping a piece of embroidery off the piano, she threw itover the cat's head, took up the now struggling, helpless bundle, andrushed ou
t of the room with it.
Then followed a scene of appalling confusion. Enid, completely losingcontrol of herself, screamed and screamed and screamed.
Few people, fortunately for themselves, have ever heard a woman scream,and some of those present felt they would never forget the sound. Inthe minds of most of the grown-up people there was the same unspokenquestion--had the cat suddenly gone mad? Had she got hydrophobia?
They all crowded round their unfortunate guest--all but Timmy, who stoodaside with a look in which remorse, fear, and triumph struggled formastery on his queer little face.
And then at last, when Mrs. Crofton lay back, moaning, on the sofa,surrounded by her distracted and horrified hosts, somebody suggested thatDr. O'Farrell should be sent for, and Jack rushed into the hall to findBetty already at the telephone.
Meanwhile Janet Tosswill was doing her best to persuade the victim ofJosephine's savage aggression to come upstairs and await the doctorthere; but, shudderingly, Enid Crofton refused to stir.
A slight diversion was created when Betty came in with a basin of warmwater, soap, and a sponge. Again everyone crowded round the sofa, andJack and Radmore both felt alarm, as well as horror, when they saw thewounds made by the cat's claws and the cat's teeth.
While her arm was being bathed, Mrs. Crofton grew so pale that Janetfeared she was going to faint, and Rosamund was sent flying up to themedicine cupboard to get some brandy.
Dr. O'Farrell was at home when telephoned for, but the quarter of an hourwhich elapsed before he reached Old Place seemed very long to some of thepeople waiting there. The doctor came in smiling, but his face alteredand grew very grave when he saw Mrs. Crofton's arm, and heard theconfused, excited account of what had happened.
To the patient he made light of the whole matter, but while someone wasputting on Mrs. Crofton's overshoes and while her evening cloak was beingbrought in he moved a little aside with Jack, Mr. Tosswill, and Radmore.None of them noticed that Timmy was hovering on the outskirts of thegroup.
"I want to say," he began in a low voice, "that of course that cat willhave to be kept under observation, or else she'll have to be destroyedand her body sent up to town to make sure of--you know what! Meanwhile,no one must go near her. Where is she now?"
Mr. Tosswill looked vaguely round. "I think Betty took her into thekitchen," he said slowly, and then he called out, "Betty?"
The girl came up. "Yes, father?"
"What did you do with Timmy's cat?"
"I put her back in the scullery, with her kittens. They only opened theireyes yesterday. Of course Timmy ought never to have brought her into thedrawing-room."
Dr. O'Farrell looked much relieved. He turned round: "Oh, she's just hadkittens, has she? That probably accounts for the whole thing."
Mrs. Crofton roused herself. "I do hope that horrible cat will be killedat once," she cried hysterically. "I can't stay in Beechfield if she'sleft alive."
Dr. O'Farrell answered soothingly, "Don't you fret, Mrs. Crofton. She's avicious brute, and shot she shall be."
No one noticed that Timmy had heard every word of this conversation; noone noticed the expression on his face.
It had been arranged that the doctor should take Mrs. Crofton home in hiscar, and that only when she was comfortably in bed should those uglylittle wounds be properly dressed.
As the doctor was hurrying down the passage into the hall, he wassurprised to see Timmy at his elbow and to hear the boy's voice pipe up:"If my cat's not mad, she won't have to be killed, doctor, will she?" Heasked the question in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone.
"Yes, my little friend, mad or not mad, she's deserved death--and no onemust go near her till the fell deed is done!" And then, as he suddenlycaught sight of Timmy's strained, agonised face, he added kindly: "She'llbe in the cats' heaven before she knows she's touched. I'll come down inthe morning and I'll shoot her through the window myself--I'm a deadshot, Timmy, my boy."
As Janet came along, Timmy burst out crying, and his mother, distracted,turned to Radmore. "Oh, Godfrey, do get him away upstairs! He's tiredout, that's what it is. Unfortunately the cat belongs to him, and he'svery fond of her--he's almost as fond of Josephine as he is of Flick."
Radmore put his hand on his godson's shoulder. "Come, Timmy, don't cry.It's unmanly."
But Timmy, instead of making an effort to control himself, wrenchedhimself away and ran down the long corridor towards the kitchen. Even asa tiny child he had hated to be caught crying.
There followed an absurd scene at the front door, Jack and Rosamundalmost quarrelling as to which of them should accompany Mrs. Croftonhome. In the end they had both gone, and Janet, ordering everyone elseto bed, sat up, wearily awaiting their return, for neither of them hadthought of taking a latchkey.
Poor Janet! Her thoughts were sad and worried thoughts, as she waited,trying to read, in the drawing-room. At the very last, Betty had lingeredfor a moment after the others, and she had noticed that the girl's eyeswere full of tears.
"Why, Betty, what's the matter? I don't think we need really worry overMrs. Crofton."
"I'm not thinking of Mrs. Crofton. I can't bear the thought of poorJosephine being shot to-morrow morning."
"Oh, my dear, don't _you_ turn sentimental! I never did like that poorcat; to me there's always been something queer and uncanny about her."
"You've never liked cats," Betty answered, rather aggressively. "Timmyand I are devoted to Josephine--so is Nanna."
Janet had checked the contemptuous words trembling on her lips. Abruptlyshe had changed the subject: "I want to tell you, Betty, how splendidlythe dinner went off to-night. Your cooking was first chop!"
Betty at once softened. But all she said was: "I would give anything forMrs. Crofton to leave Beechfield, Janet. Did you see Jack's face?"
"Yes, and I do feel worried about it. Yet one can't do anything."
"I suppose one can't. But it's too bad of her. I think her a horridwoman. Jack is just a scalp to her. I don't mind her flirtation withGodfrey--that's much more reasonable!"
Then she had hurried off upstairs without waiting for an answer, and herstep-mother, looking back, rather wondered that Betty had said that.