The Drowned Sailor Read online

his hands, though he still leaned over me. He bowed his head and murmured: ‘I’ve travelled such a way.’

  ‘Well you must travel back again, there’s nobody here for you,’ I rounded, and then, as he turned off a hair’s breadth, I slipped out under his arm and darted along the hall in a fright, calling for Trevick at the top of my voice, and not daring to glance behind me lest the unknown man should be on my heels.

  I shot up the stairs to the first floor and began on the flight to the second, when a light appeared above me in the well, and my host’s shadow showed on the wall.

  ‘Get up, get up!’ I cried out to him. ‘There’s a strange man in the hall, I let him in out of the rain, but he’s not right, there’s something wrong about him, he’s mad—’

  ‘Whoa, whoa,’ said Trevick, descending in his shirt, and looking as though he had been sleeping badly. ‘Slow down, what do you mean? What man? Why did you let him in?’

  ‘He’s in the back hallway,’ I urged. ‘Come and show him out— perhaps you know him, and can send him home?’

  He shook his head as though to clear it and came down slowly, while I was all nerves and jumped about. Really, my encounter had put me severely out of sorts.

  ‘Why didn’t you put the light on?’ he asked, as he stamped past me into the hall below. Once there he threw a switch and called out to our visitor. I did not follow him, but lingered at the top of the landing, anxiously.

  Trevick’s voice floated up. ‘Well, where is he?’

  ‘Has he gone?’ I said, and tiptoed down also.

  Indeed the hall was empty, save for ourselves.

  ‘He must have gone out again,’ I suggested, and he tried the door.

  ‘Both the locks are shot,’ he said. ‘Nobody’s been out this way.’

  ‘No, no, I unbolted them to let him in, and he closed one over to fasten the door.’

  ‘See for yourself,’ said Trevick.

  I peered in disconsternation at the locks. ‘Then he must be in the house— he must have come in!’ I glanced about me.

  Trevick sighed impatiently and walked through the rooms on the ground floor. They were kept empty, as I say, because of the damp, and they were empty now.

  I glanced around again. ‘He’s upstairs,’ I whispered.

  ‘I only heard you come up,’ he replied, frowning with annoyance. ‘Are you sure you didn’t dream all this?’

  ‘Dream! I wish I had dreamt it! Take a look, he must have crept after me, he must be hiding.’

  ‘There was no man. You dreamt him,’ said he finally, and walked upstairs, making a cursory survey of the rooms.

  ‘But there was, though! Didn’t you hear him banging to come in? It woke me up!’

  ‘I heard the wind and the sea and your noise, that’s all.’

  ‘But he was here!’ I cried in an alarm. ‘He was— he spoke to me, he held my arms, I tell you!’

  ‘Yes, yes, well that’s as may be,’ he told me, ‘but you’ll find it was a nightmare, I think.’ He put his hand to his head. ‘I’ve had a nightmare myself tonight. It’s kept me awake just thinking of it, and now you’re running about too. But I want to be up early, so calm yourself and get to bed.’

  ‘But that man—’ I gasped feebly.

  ‘If you see him again, tell him to buy a watch. It’s quarter past three, and no time for visitors. I’m to be married in the morning, I want my sleep.’

  And with that he came to the end of his tether, and returned to bed. I nimbly followed him, went into my room and, seeing it was uninhabited, locked the door at once.

  I did not think I would sleep, but crept under the bedclothes quaking for thinking of that sinister stranger. However, the wind keeping me restless, I put my earplugs in, and almost as soon as it was quiet dropped into a thankfully dreamless slumber.

  When I awoke in the morning the sun was shining in brightly, and it was clear and blue out of the window. But suddenly starting and grappling for my watch, I saw to my amazement that it was ten o’ clock— the very hour fixed for the wedding. This set me into a panic, as you may imagine, and I hurried in great confusion, hoping to catch at least a part of the ceremony. Due to my earplugs, I would not have heard my host, even if he had tried to rouse me with knocking.

  I bolted out of the front door and across the drive towards the cliff-path to Hurlevor, cursing myself all the while for a fool and a lazy, uncivil creature, and framing many excuses and apologies in my head as I ran along under the trees. I was under the impression that walking was the swiftest way to the church, but on gaining the village realised that I had mistaken the route; so I halted my race outside the guesthouse by the quay, and asked directions of a man there, who was busy putting a bag into his car.

  He was a very handsome fellow, and seemed to be in a state of excitement. I conjectured that he was also a wedding guest, though it did not bode well that he appeared to be leaving. In answer to my question ‘Which way is the church?’ he looked up in surprise and smiled, saying: ‘What do you want there?’

  ‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘it can’t be over yet?’ —whereupon he laughed and clapped his hands together.

  ‘It is, though! All over, thank God! Nicely settled!’

  ‘Oh, but where is everybody? I mean the happy couple— I must make my apologies and wish them well. I’ll never forgive myself for missing the whole thing!’

  ‘“The happy couple” have already gone,’ he replied. ‘They drove off straight afterwards— and very happy I hope they’ll be!’ He sounded, however, as though he did not care whether they drove to the devil.

  I sat down on a bollard in despair. ‘But it was so quick— too quick, surely?’ I complained. ‘I’d hoped to see them, at least.’

  ‘Take it from me,’ said this man, ‘it was the best wedding I ever saw. That bloody Trevick is finally out of my way, which makes it a happy day, alright!’

  I was a little puzzled. ‘Are you a relative of his?’

  ‘No!’ he answered haughtily. ‘I’ve got absolutely nothing to do with him— absolutely nothing, at last!’ He laughed again.

  ‘Are you from the bride’s family, then?’ I enquired. There was something about his manner that made me curious, for he was apparently overjoyed, and yet scornful about the whole marriage.

  ‘The bride?’ he said. ‘She’s a cunning thing— but she’s done me a good turn, that’s for sure!’

  ‘A good turn by marrying Trevick?’ I asked. Perhaps he was one of Clare’s indulgent relatives— though he seemed about her own age, so hardly a guardian. ‘You’re glad to have your cousin off your hands, I suppose,’ I ventured jocularly.

  ‘My cousin?’ he questioned. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Clare Belmont?’ I hazarded, at which he laughed delightedly.

  ‘Clare Belmont! Clare Belmont’s going to be my wife!’

  He slammed the boot closed, and I stood up to intercept his leaving before I had an explanation.

  ‘But what do you mean?’ I pressed him. ‘Clare was just married this morning.’

  ‘No she wasn’t,’ he smiled. ‘Why do you think I’m so happy?’

  ‘I really don’t know!’

  He patted me on the back, chuckling. ‘Well, let me put you out of your misery. It was a surprise to me, too. I came down for this wedding in such a state, you know, I was all over the road with nerves— of course I was hoping to talk her out of it—’

  ‘Clare?’ I interrupted.

  ‘Yes, Clare— but she wouldn’t see me beforehand, so I went along to the service. I thought, if I watch her choose him instead of me once and for all, then maybe I’ll get over her. God! You don’t know how long I’ve been in love with that woman! I reckoned a painful shock like that would help me.’

  ‘Well, what then?’

  ‘I got there extra early so I could sit down in a pew at the back, out of the way— I didn’t want her to see me, after all. I’d have been glad to ruin his day, but I wouldn’t hurt hers for the world. Anyway, he came in, in his suit
, and said hello to the vicar and so on— and shortly afterwards, way ahead of time, in comes the bride.’ He smiled brightly. ‘She had this white slip on, and a bit of veil over her face, and her hair tied up under it— if I’d seen my Clare’s red hair hanging down I’d have gone mad. Well, there was nobody to give her away, or anything like that— she just nipped up the hem of her skirt and strode down the aisle like she was running an errand— I was sure she was just going to tell him it was all off. He had this look of dumb amazement on his face as she walked up to him, tossed back the veil and looked him full in the face, all smiles— and it was Ravella.’

  ‘Ravella!’ I repeated, astonished.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he laughed. ‘That damned, wonderful Ravella! And she looked at him a moment and said: “Well, are we getting married? This man’s waiting—” and my God, he married her! You can imagine how happy I was! They got hitched there and then— I signed the book myself to witness it— and then they ran out of the church, with her black hair fluttering after her as she pulled out the pins. Outside she turned by the car and threw up her bouquet— well, it was only a clump of pansies after all, with the earth still on them— and the vicar caught it, and they sped off in the bridal car.’

  I had to sit back down on the bollard after these revelations.

  ‘He married Ravella? James Trevick? But why? Why? He didn’t even like her, he couldn’t stand the sight of her, apparently!’

  ‘Quite frankly,’ said this fellow then, ‘I couldn’t care less about any of that. All that matters is, Clare hasn’t married him!’