Philippa Carr - The Drop of the Dice

The news spread. Madame Legrand had been chased by a gipsy and now I had actually been attacked in the woods. The next day Aimée came running in from the woods in a breathless state. She had been chased by a figure in a dark cloak with a concealing hood which hid the face. She had been terrified and just managed to make the edge of the woods before the apparition caught up with her. As she came into the open, her pursuer disappeared.

‘It is some madman disguising himself with the hood and cloak,’ declared Lance. ‘I’ll set people to watch in the woods. He has to be caught.’

This he did but the apparition seemed to have learned that he was being looked for and made no appearances.

I recovered quickly. Sabrina was constantly with me, and I began to be glad of what had happened because of the change it had wrought in her. She had never forgotten that it was her disobedience which had cost her mother her life. Now she had saved mine and felt she had expiated her sin. Through her a life had been lost; now, through her, one had been saved.

I loved to have her near me, tasting my food as she insisted on. She was now even talking about the baby, and admiring the clothes which were being prepared for the child.

I found that I had lost a garnet brooch during my adventure. It wasn’t very valuable but was precious to me because Damaris had given it to me long ago.

I told Sabrina. I said: ‘The clasp was weak, and when I was dragged along the ground it must have come undone.’

‘I’ll find it for you,’ said Sabrina, confident in her powers to do everything she set her hand to.

‘It’s lost for ever, I dare say. Don’t go into the woods alone.’

She was silent, nodding her head.

It was two days later while I was having my afternoon rest when she burst in on me.

That she was excited was obvious. Her hands were grubby and she looked as if she had been digging up the earth.

‘Oh, Clarissa, what do you think I’ve found!’

‘My brooch?’

She shook her head and for once even Sabrina was at a loss for words. Then she said slowly: ‘Look. I found it near the dene hole. It’s Jeanne’s Jean-Baptiste.’

I stared down at the little plaque with the chain attached. Soil was sticking to it. As I took and held it memories of Jeanne came flooding back, of her showing me this when I was a child, her Jean-Baptiste which had been put about her neck when she was born and which she must wear until the day she died.

I felt sick. And it had been found near the dene hole.

Thoughts crowded into my mind. I was there again… lying on the ground… I was being dragged along with obvious intent. Someone had planned to throw me down the dene hole. Could it have been that Jeanne had met the same murderer and that there had been no one to rescue her?

But no. Her clothes had gone. My jewels had gone and only the bezoar ring had been recovered.

There was some mystery here and wild thoughts were racing through my head.

Lance said the dene hole must be searched. No one, as far as he knew, had ever been down there before, but that was no reason why someone should not go down now.

All the men on the estate were with him. They all knew of Jeanne’s disappearance and now that this ornament had been found near the dene hole, it seemed significant, for I could testify and so could others that Jeanne had taken off her Jean-Baptiste only to wash and she had always said that she would wear it till she died.

Several men volunteered for going down the dene hole. Stakes were brought, with a thick rope-ladder. There was excitement throughout the community and everyone was talking about the prowler in the woods. They were certain that Jeanne had been his victim.

I remember that afternoon well. It was hot—the beginning of July—and in the woods practically the entire neighbourhood had gathered. Lance had said I must not be there. In any case the doctor’s orders were that I should rest every afternoon. Sabrina stayed with me, although I knew she was longing to be in the woods.

At length Lance came to my room. His face was pale and for once very serious.

‘Poor Jeanne,’ he said. ‘We misjudged her. She’s hardly recognizable… but her clothes are down there and her old cloth bag… do you remember? The one she brought with her from France.’

I covered my face with my hands; I could not bear to look at Lance or Sabrina.

Jeanne, dear, good, misjudged Jeanne, how could we ever have thought she was a thief? We should have known,

‘It’s a mystery,’ said Lance. ‘The jewellery was missing. What can it mean?’

Aimée had come into the room.

‘I heard you come in, Lance,’ she said.

He told her that Jeanne’s body had been found.

‘In the dene hole!’ Aimée was almost disbelieving.

Lance nodded.

‘It must have been this gipsy… or prowler… all that time ago…’

Lance was silent.

I said; ‘There is the loss of the jewellery to explain. What could that have to do with Jeanne’s being attacked in the woods?’

‘That,’ said Lance, ‘we shall have to find out.’

‘But… how ?’ asked Aimée.

‘Well, someone sold the jewellery to the London jeweller from whom Clarissa bought the bezoar ring.’

‘Oh yes, I see,’ said Aimée slowly.

‘We’ll get to the bottom of it in time,’ said Lance. ‘At least poor Jeanne has been exonerated. Poor girl… to die like that… and to be blamed for stealing…’

‘Dear Jeanne,’ I said, ‘I never really believed it of her. At least some good has come out of this attack on me.’

‘I shall go up to London at once,’ said Lance. ‘I’ll call on that jeweller.’

There was no talk of anything but the fate which had befallen Jeanne. In the village, in the servants’ hall, it was discussed endlessly. Most people declared that they had always known Jeanne was honest and that there was something decidedly odd about her disappearance, which was not true, of course, as most of them had stated at the time of Jeanne’s disappearance that you never could be sure of foreigners.

After a few days Lance came back from London. It was a stormy evening when he returned and he had had a difficult journey from London because of the weather. He had seen the jeweller and questioned him. The man had repeated his story about a Frenchwoman coming in with the jewellery and the tale she had told about leaving England in a hurry. Did he think he would know her if he saw her again? He was sure of it.

More enquiries were being made, said Lance, and they would go on until the mystery was solved.

The next morning Madame Legrand and Aimée were missing.

‘It began to seem rather obvious,’ said Lance, ‘from the time we found Jeanne’s body. A Frenchwoman selling the jewellery could very likely be Madame Legrand or Aimée.’

‘Yes,’ I pondered, ‘but what has that got to do with the death of Jeanne?’

Lance thought that when she had disappeared, they might have had the idea that they could steal the jewellery and make it appear that Jeanne had taken it—which it did.

‘They are obviously running away now,’ he said. ‘You can depend upon it, they will try to get to France. I’m going to get them back because there is a lot of explaining to be done. They might try to make for Dover. On the other hand that would take time. How would they get to Dover? The horses are all in the stables… besides, Madame Legrand cannot ride. I am sure they will take one of our little boats and try to get along the coast in it… to Dover, possibly, where they can take ship for the Continent. I’m going to get down there and see what I can find out.’

I watched him ride away. Sabrina was with me. She looked pleased; although she said nothing she was reminding me by her very expression that she had always known there was something wrong with both Aimée and her mother.