David Lindsay - The Haunted Woman

They gazed at each other in consternation, during which time their excitement rapidly subsided.

"Are we dreaming now, or were we dreaming before?" asked Isbel earnestly, laying her hand on his arm.

"We can't doubt this, at all events."

"Wasn't that real, then? Have we been the fools of our senses?"

"I fear it looks extremely like it."

"What, has it all been false?"

Judge shook his head grimly, but did not answer at once…"Anyway, it has happened in time. There's no harm done but what we can cover up and forget. We must be thankful for small mercies."

She turned fiery-red. "Has it really come to that?"

"At least, as you, too, have been involved, you will acquit me of deliberate wrong-doing. I fear it's hopeless trying to reconstruct our state of mind, or to understand what has taken place. Some unpleasant agency has been at work."

They went back into the room.

"So you don't love me?" demanded Isbel quietly.

"Yes, I love you."

"You know that, if our senses are restored, my ring is not restored?"

"Unfortunately, I know it only too well."

"So it means that your old generosity has come back?"

They stood for a long time, looking away from each other. Then, with death in her heart, Isbel started to put on her glove.

"We had better go downstairs again."

He bowed with stern gravity, and at once moved to the door, which he held open to allow her to pass out. She walked straight across to the stairs, without once turning her head to see if he were following.

The hall, when she reached it, was in dusk. Her watch told her it that it was nearing five o'clock. She looked dully around her, remembering nothing of what had occurred to her during the past hour and a half, but somehow, confusedly wondering why Judge had failed to descend that staircase with her-though, as a matter of fact, she did not even know whether he had been up there.

The staircase had vanished, the house wsa in silence, evening was closing in, and her companions were absent. Isbel's heart throbbed heavily, she felt sick and weak, yet she thought she ought to go upstairs to look for them. She knew that Judge would not have departed without her. She considered that it would be best if she were to go straight upstairs to the East Room.

The prospect of visiting that remote part of the house so late in the day did not inspire her with any enthusiasm, but anything was preferable to waiting about in that awful hall. It was most singular why they should be so long. She made her way upstairs slowly, stopping at every sixth step to listen for sounds; but all was quiet as a tomb. As she groped her passage along the nightlike corridor at the top of the house, it occurred to her for the first time that she had never yet seen the East Room, though all her acquaintances seemed to have done so. She smiled rather contemptuously. Well, it would complete her experience of the place!

The door stood wide open. It was dim twilight within, and the apartment did not strike her as very noteworthy. It was small and square, with a single window on the far side; very poorly furnished. But as she stood at the door, looking in, her eyes immediately fell upon something which completely took away all her interest in the room itself. Mrs. Richborough was lying extended on the floor, with Judge kneeling beside her!

She rushed forward quickly. "Whatever's the matter, Mr. Judge? Is she ill?"

He looked up from bathing her forehead and lips with the contents of a pocket-flask.

"It's a swoon, and rather a bad one. I couldn't leave her, to come down to you."

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know. She was lying like this when I came down."

Isbel turned hastily from the unconscious woman to look at Judge. "Then you have been up?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Yes; but I remember nothing-nor, of course, you, either?"

"Nothing." He went on dabbing Mrs. Richborough's forehead.

"Is that doing her any good? Hadn't we better try and get her downstairs?"

"Her pulse is stronger, and I think she is coming round. It's hopeless to think of a doctor in these parts. If we can get her in the car, we'll soon run her down to Worthing. She must have had a fright of some sort."

"But how came she to find her way up here?"

"I suppose she looked everywhere for me…I've been staring at something on the floor over there for some while, but haven't been able to get up to investigate. It looks like a ring, or a brooch. She may have dropped it in falling."

Isbel, following the direction of his finger, detected the article, and picked it up. It proved to be a lady's diamond ring.

"It is a ring-and a rather nice one. It's very much like mine."

As she spoke the words, she instinctively felt for her engagement ring beneath her glove…It was not there!…She whipped off the glove, in dismay. Her third finger was ringless.

The recovered ring fitted it perfectly.

"It is mine!" she went on, with a desperate effort to keep calm, but unable to keep a slight break out of her voice.

"What! You surely must be mistaken."

"It's my engagement ring and ought to have been on my finger."

They stared at each other.

"You are sure?"

"Yes, I am quite sure."

"Then what is it doing her, Miss Loment? I can't understand it. You haven't been in this room before?"

"I have never been in this room before in my life. And I wore this ring at lunch to-day."

She retained it on her finger and replaced her glove over it. At the same time, Mrs. Richborough's face and neck stirred uneasily, and her eyelids flickered. Judge remained on his knees.

"How are we to understand it, do you suppose?" demanded Isbel, after a long pause, in the increasing darkness.

"I will not suggest what I don't think, Miss Loment, and I may not suggest what I do think."

"Oh, I know what you mean-and it's ghastly! It can't be…" Her face suddenly crimsoned; she felt as if she were on fire. "But perhaps I don't know what you mean. What do you mean?"

"I cannot say. But I can give you a piece of counsel. You cam here to-day to end a mystery, and you have started a still worse one. Things can't go on like this; so I strongly advise that you make this your last visit to my house. This is the second time something has happened without your knowledge or consent."

"It's the uncertainty which is so horrible…Oh, can't something be done? Have you no initiative at all, Mr. Judge? You call yourself a man."

"It is high time to retrace our steps. We have already gone too far. I think my best plan will be to shut the house u altogether. I think I will do that."

He applied himself to moistening Mrs. Richborough's lips with the brandy. Her limbs began to move restlessly; it was evident that she was on the verge of regaining consciousness. After a moment or two he again looked up.

"I have only to express my sincere repentance at having invited you here this afternoon, Miss Loment. Of course, I should not have done so, and I am very sorry for it. My only excuse is that I knew no more than yourself."

She made no reply.

Mrs. Richborough at last opened her eyes. Judge, bending lower, obliged her to take a sip of the brandy, and the powerful stimulant had a nearly instant effect upon her heart. She struggled into a sitting posture, supported by his arm, and smiled wanly.

"Where am I? What has happened?"

"It's I-Mr. Judge-and this is Miss Loment. You have fainted."

"How idiotic!"

He forced her to swallow another mouthful of the spirit, and the colour started to return to her cheeks.

"You'll be all right in a minute or two. We'll get you downstairs to the car, make you comfortable, and run you home in less than no time. Feeling better already, aren't you?"