"Miss Anstruther is dead!" she wailed. "She fell over the cliffs and was
killed. And it is all my fault. If I hadn't----" But at that point her
tears, which never ceased for an instant, choked her further utterance,
and letting her head drop back on the cushions, she went on crying.
Seeing that it would be as useless as it was cruel to question Hilary
further, and still not daring to disturb the rigid, stony silence in
which Eleanor sat, Maud hurried, horror-struck at what she had heard,
from the room, and crossing the hall, went into the dining-room. The
three boys were seated at the table eagerly devouring some hot soup,
which Martin, whose face was very grave, had had in readiness for them.
Evidently he had not told them the dreadful news, and checking the
questions which had been on the point of rising to her lips, Maud
beckoned him from the room. He came out, carefully closing the door
behind him.
"It's no use upsetting the young gentlemen by letting them know about it
to-night," he said in a low tone. "They had better be got off to bed as
soon as possible."
"It is really true, then?" Maud said, feeling sick at heart.
"I am afraid there is no doubt about it, Miss. It was a coastguardsman
that told Master Geoffrey about it. He had been up to Windy Gap and heard
that Miss Anstruther had not been seen there. And then coming back, he
lost his way--went clean off the road in the dark, and then couldn't find
it again for ever so long. He might have gone over the cliffs himself,
Miss Maud. Then he met a coastguardsman and told him he was out looking
for a young lady and asked him if he had seen her, and then the man said
that about eight o'clock a young lady had fallen over the cliffs, just
beyond the lighthouse, and had been picked up in a dying condition on the
rocks below. They had taken her along the beach until they got to the end
of the sea-wall, and then they had telephoned for an ambulance, and she
was taken to the hospital, for, of course, they didn't know her name or
where she lived then."
At that moment the three boys stumbled wearily into the hall rubbing
their eyes. "I say, we're off to bed," said Noel. "Martin says that Miss
Anstruther hasn't come back yet, but we can't do anything more, he
thinks, so as we can scarcely keep our eyes open, we are going to turn
in. Go and have some grub, Maud, and do likewise." And yawning their
heads off as they went, the three boys trailed up to bed, far too
sleepy to notice Maud's silence and horror-struck face.
"And Mr. Geoffrey has gone down to the hospital with Mr. Anstruther,"
continued Martin, as soon as the boys were out of earshot. "They were
obliged to walk, for there wasn't a cab about when Mr. Geoffrey came
back, for it was then close on eleven, and they wouldn't wait until I
went to get one from the livery stables up the road. And now, Miss Maud,
you must come and have something to eat. You had no dinner."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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