Lucy Montgomery - The Blue Castle

"Did he write?"

"No. But he drew a check for fifteen thousand dollars on his bank account. The bank manager is a friend of mine - one of my biggest shareholders. He'd always promised me he'd let me know if Bernie drew any checks. Bernie had fifty thousand there. And he'd never touched a cent of it till last Christmas. The check was made out to Aynsley's, Toronto - "

"Anysley's?" Valancy heard herself saying Aynsley's! She had a box on her dressing-table with the Aynsley trademark.

"Yes. The big jewellery house there. After I'd thought it over a while, I got brisk. I wanted to locate Bernie. Had a special reason for it. It was time he gave up his fool hoboing and come to his senses. Drawing that fifteen told me there was something in the wind. The manager communicated with the Aynsleys - his wife was an Aynsley - and found out that Bernard Redfern had bought a pearl necklace there. His address was given as Box 444, Port Lawrence, Muskoka, Ont. First I thought I'd write. Then I thought I'd wait till the open season for cars and come down myself. Ain't no hand at writing. I've motored from Montreal. Got to Port Lawrence yesterday. Enquired at the post-office. Told me they knew nothing of any Bernard Snaith Redfern, but there was a Barney Snaith had a P. O. box there. Lived on an island out here, they said. So here I am. And where's Barney?"

Valancy was fingering her necklace. She was wearing fifteen thousand dollars around her neck. And she had worried lest Barney had paid fifteen dollars for it and couldn't afford it. Suddenly she laughed in Dr. Redfern's face.

"Excuse me. It's so - amusing," said poor Valancy.

"Isn't it?" said Dr. Redfern, seeing a joke - but not exactly hers. "Now, you seem like a sensible young woman, and I dare say you've lots of influence over Bernie. Can't you get him to come back to civilisation and live like other people? I've a house up there. Big as a castle. Furnished like a palace. I want company in it - Bernie's wife - Bernie's children."

"Did Ethel Traverse ever marry?" queried Valancy irrelevantly.

"Bless you, yes. Two years after Bernie levanted. But she's a widow now. Pretty as ever. To be frank, that was my special reason for wanting to find Bernie. I thought they'd make it up, maybe. But, of course, that's all off now. Doesn't matter. Bernie's choice of a wife is good enough for me. It's my boy I want. Think he'll soon be back?"

"I don't know. But I don't think he'll come before night. Quite late, perhaps. And perhaps not till tomorrow. But I can put you up comfortably. He'll certainly be back tomorrow."

Dr. Redfern shook his head.

"Too damp. I'll take no chances with rheumatism."

"Why suffer that ceaseless anguish? Why not try Redfern's Liniment?" quoted the imp in the back of Valancy's mind.

"I must get back to Port Lawrence before rain starts. Henry goes quite mad when he gets mud on the car. But I'll come back tomorrow. Meanwhile you talk Bernie into reason."

He shook her hand and patted her kindly on the shoulder. He looked as if he would have kissed her, with a little encouragement, but Valancy did not give it. Not that she would have minded. He was rather dreadful and loud - and - and - dreadful. But there was something about him she liked. She thought dully that she might have liked being his daughter-in-law if he had not been a millionaire. A score of times over. And Barney was his son - and heir.

She took him over in the motor boat and watched the lordly purple car roll away through the woods with Henry at the wheel looking things not lawful to be uttered. Then she went back to the Blue Castle. What she had to do must be done quickly. Barney MIGHT return at any moment. And it was certainly going to rain. She was thankful she no longer felt very bad. When you are bludgeoned on the head repeatedly, you naturally and mercifully become more or less insensible and stupid.

She stood briefly like a faded flower bitten by frost, by the hearth, looking down on the white ashes of the last fire that had blazed in the Blue Castle.

"At any rate," she thought wearily, "Barney isn't poor. He will be able to afford a divorce. Quite nicely."

She must write a note. The imp in the back of her mind laughed. In every story she had ever read when a runaway wife decamped from home she left a note, generally on the pin-cushion. It was not a very original idea. But one had to leave something intelligible. What was there to do but write a note? She looked vaguely about her for something to write with. Ink? There was none. Valancy had never written anything since she had come to the Blue Castle, save memoranda of household necessaries for Barney. A pencil sufficed for them, but now the pencil was not to be found. Valancy absently crossed to the door of Bluebeard's Chamber and tried it. She vaguely expected to find it locked, but it opened unresistingly. She had never tried it before, and did not know whether Barney habitually kept it locked or not. If he did, he must have been badly upset to leave it unlocked. She did not realise that she was doing something he had told her not to do. She was only looking for something to write with. All her faculties were concentrated on deciding just what she would say and how she would say it. There was not the slightest curiosity in her as she went into the lean-to.

There were no beautiful women hanging by their hair on the walls. It seemed a very harmless apartment, with a commonplace little sheet-iron stove in the middle of it, its pipe sticking out through the roof. At one end was a table or counter crowded with odd- looking utensils. Used no doubt by Barney in his smelly operations. Chemical experiments, probably, she reflected dully. At the other end was a big writing desk and swivel-chair. The side walls were lined with books.

Valancy went blindly to the desk. There she stood motionless for a few minutes, looking down at something that lay on it. A bundle of galleyproofs. The page on top bore the title Wild Honey, and under the title were the words "by John Foster."

The opening sentence - "Pines are the trees of myth and legend. They strike their roots deep into the traditions of an older world, but wind and star love their lofty tops. What music when old Æolus draws his bow across the branches of the pines - " She had heard Barney say that one day when they walked under them.

So Barney was John Foster!

Valancy was not excited. She had absorbed all the shocks and sensations that she could compass for one day. This affected her neither one way nor the other. She only thought:

"So this explains it."

"It" was a small matter that had, somehow, stuck in her mind more persistently than its importance seemed to justify. Soon after Barney had brought her John Foster's latest book she had been in a Port Lawrence bookshop and heard a customer ask the proprietor for John Foster's new book. The proprietor had said curtly, "Not out yet. Won't be out till next week."

Valancy had opened her lips to say, "Oh, yes, it IS out," but closed them again. After all, it was none of her business. She supposed the proprietor wanted to cover up his negligence in not getting the book in promptly. Now she knew. The book Barney had given her had been one of the author's complimentary copies, sent in advance.

Well! Valancy pushed the proofs indifferently aside and sat down in the swivel-chair. She took up Barney's pen - and a vile one it was - pulled a sheet of paper to her and began to write. She could not think of anything to say except bald facts.

"Dear Barney: -

I went to Dr. Trent this morning and found out he had sent me the wrong letter by mistake. There never was anything serious the matter with my heart and I am quite well now.

I did not mean to trick you. Please believe that. I could not bear it if you did not believe that. I am very sorry for the mistake. But surely you can get a divorce if I leave you. Is desertion a ground for divorce in Canada? Of course if there is anything I can do to help or hasten it I will do it gladly, if your lawyer will let me know.