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4 Rattle Brings a Girl
to Call
Andrew and Michael were in
conference with the pugs. Andrew, whose mastery of the pug language was not as
good as Michael’s, sat in wonder while Michael translated the astonishing news that
little Walter had made friends with the girl and that he, Mac and Iggy were
living in two time periods, though they were not as fully embraced by the old
time as was the puppy. He went through it all, including the fact that Little
Walter had managed to console the lass, but that, as of the scene on the beach,
the pugs were not sanguine about her future. Mrs. Scrumptious kept up a refill
of tea and cakes. This was serious business.
‘Wasn’t there something about a bracelet that was tied in with the disgrace?’ asked Andrew.
‘As far as I can remember,’ said Michael, a little stony faced, ‘it was
the central thing. The piece of evidence. Like Desdemona’s hankie.’
‘Who’s this Desdemona?’ whispered Mac.
‘What’s a hankie?’ whispered Little Walter.
Iggy began explaining the plot of Shakespeare’s Othello in a low voice so as not to disturb their masters. When he was finished and Walter still looked mystified, he employed concision.
‘The handkerchief became the same thing as her honour. When she lost it, it was the same as losing her integrity.’
‘Why couldn’t she get another one?’ asked Walter practically.
‘Just what I always wondered,’ muttered Mac who thought Desdemona thoroughly silly.
‘She couldn’t,’ Iggy protested, for he loved the sad character, and he had been so touched when Andrew read it aloud to him that Michael and Andrew had taken the pugs to the theatre. Ignatius sat at full attention and Mac had to be stopped from snoring. ‘It was magical and there was no other like it. He only gave her the one. And that’s like this bracelet.’
Andrew turned to the pugs, ‘There isn’t a chance you’re in any danger?’
Ignatius looked at Mac, who half shrugged and half shook his head, ‘Don’t think so. At least not yet.’
‘Does that chap, the one on the beach, carry a sword?’
Mac nodded, ‘And a dagger in his boot.’
‘Well,’ Andrew sighed a little and raised his eyes to heaven, but, he spoke mildly, ‘as long as you don’t miss your dinner.’ He was longing for the good old days when all one really had to do was sing a sad song for the poor lass and get Uncle Toby to the right bedroom, but the only thing he said was, ‘You three can’t stay indefinitely in two worlds. And ours has the first claim.’
Mac was responding that he was sure the time was limited when a servant came in to announce the arrival of Mr. Rattle. The brothers looked at each other and slow smiles spread across their faces. ‘Let him come in, by all means,’ said Michael.
Rattle, who was a father’s worst
nightmare when he had once been in pursuit of the lovely Bessie, was a bit of a
fool and very much of a fop. But he was the former owner of Wuffie. And when he
saw that Wuffie truly loved Louisa, he had exchanged the Count for a pouch of
golden guineas and had many times after come to call.
Rattle usually made the most dramatic entrance he
could devise. But this time he was upstaged by the presence of a dark woman who
was holding his arm as if for support when, clearly, she didn’t need it. She
was handsome so Michael sat up a bit straighter and the pugs prepared to do the
courtesy of the house, but Walter backed away from them into a corner where he
sat with eyes fixed on the lady.
‘Gentlemen,’ intoned Rattle, ‘I bring you a long lost cousin. I am visiting some families for the season and, when she heard you were at the hall, she immediately claimed you as kin and asked to be introduced.’
‘You do us great honour, madam,’ said Michael, ‘but how could we have overlooked such a cousin?’
The young woman dropped her eyes, ‘I fear, sir, that our families have not spoken for some time. There was a tragedy in the house many years ago and I believe that one of our ancestors was blamed for it.’ She sighed plaintively and Iggy and Mac sighed with her, but, behind them, Walter said nothing and his young gaze never faltered.
Rattle was not one to attend to something for more than four seconds and he had been gazing around the room while she spoke. ‘Where’s Wuffie?’ he blurted out. ‘I really came to see him.’ And like a boy, ‘I wanted to play with the puppies.’
Andrew pried his attention away from the woman’s face, which seemed distinctly familiar, and turned to Rattle. ‘The puppies have yet to arrive, but, when they do, the family will join us. Then you and our newfound cousin must come back.’
‘Meanwhile,’ said the girl, ‘I would so like to look over a bit of the house again.’ Michael and the pugs rose and asked her preferences. ‘There was a little room I saw once in the old wing. A kind of round room in a bit of tower. It had such appeal,’ and here she looked fetchingly at Michael, ‘that I would like to see it again.’
Michael was all too willing to show it to her, but he hadn’t a notion
where it was. Rattle suggested that they tour the place and looked at the pugs.
Once the girl mentioned the round room, the atmosphere at his feet underwent a
decided change as Ignatius and Mac drew back with their nephew and all three
regarded the pattern of the turkey carpet on which they were all standing, so
Michael said not a word.
Seeing that she was about to be thwarted, the girl insisted, ‘I believe, if you will allow me, that I can find it.’
‘Wonderful,’ enthused Rattle, who really wanted to play with Wuffie and was missing him, ‘we’ll all go.’
The girl set out with a fleetness of foot that surprised even Michael, and at a nod from Iggy, the pugs were right behind her. The procession went steadily on and Mac whispered to Iggy, ‘How does she know the way?’ Iggy shook his head but said nothing and followed on into the old wing.
When they came to the door of the room, little Walter moved to the side of his uncles. ‘They must not go in,’ he whispered firmly and Iggy and Mac told him to hush.
‘Charles said it must go forward,’ said Iggy, ‘and we cannot prevent it. Wait. Watch. And try not to wheeze.’
Having reached the door the girl put out her hand and almost snatched at the handle. She frowned slightly when it did not turn and gripped it very hard. Nothing. A smile appeared in Walter’s eyes and Andrew, looking at her profile, found himself staring. Rattle lurched forward and gently removed her hands.
‘My dear girl, you must not twist it so. Do let me try.’ He put his not inconsiderable hand around the doorknob and applied all the force he could muster. Again, nothing. He was trying once more when the girl lost patience.
‘Do let Michael try. He’s by far the strongest,’ she snapped.
But Mac moved next to Michael and murmured to him.
‘Well,’ said the girl, looking unkindly upon Mac, ‘I suppose he has an opinion.’
‘Yes, Madam,’ said Michael with finality, ‘he feels that the door is stuck and I agree. So I fear that we cannot satisfy your curiosity today.’
A strange expression passed over the woman’s face and it was not disappointment. She looked up at Michael and said plaintively, ‘I had so counted on you.’
Rattle, who admired the dashing Michael, leapt to his defense, ‘Michael understands pugs, m’dear; so there must be something in this situation that we don’t yet comprehend.’
Andrew suggested more tea but it was clear that the woman wanted to get away. In the doorway, she turned to Andrew.
‘Is your daughter, Bessie, coming with the pugs from Penzance?’
‘Most certainly,’ smiled Andrew though he was uncertain of the tone of the question.
‘I should like to see her.’
‘Me too,’ said Rattle with shudder-making enthusiasm.
‘You know,’ said Andrew, ‘that you are very welcome.’
The horses were brought and the couple left. Everyone stood there waving them out of sight, then, the moment they were away, Andrew turned on his heel and went back to the house.
He was calling for Jeremy before he was through the door. Jeremy appeared as if by magic looking far more animated than usual.
‘Sir?’ he breathed.
‘Did you see that young woman?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Does she remind you of anyone?’
‘Indeed she does, sir.’
‘Who?’ said Michael, who, like his pug, never wanted to be the last to know.
‘I don’t know the name, sir.’
‘We don’t know hers either,’ said Andrew, ‘which, you will agree, is very odd.’
‘I do agree, sir, most heartily. But as she gave no name, I didn’t like to rebaptize her—as it were.’
‘Understood,’ said Michael, ‘then how does the resemblance come in?’
‘Mr. Michael,’ said Jeremy patiently, ‘do you remember during the apple season how, as a boy, you were often ill?’
‘Hmmm,’ said Michael, who remembered all too well.
‘Do you remember why, sir?’
‘I picked the fruit too early and ate it too quickly.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Jeremy gently. ‘This is a moment to savour.’
‘Understood,’ said Michael with a grin.
Jeremy bowed, ‘If you gentlemen and the pugs will accompany me, I will show you the lady.’
Once again the little troupe found itself at the beginning of the old wing. The room to which Jeremy showed them had, at some later point, been made into a library and Uncle Thomas used it often. Jeremy went to a desk and opened a small drawer. From it, he withdrew a covered square which, when opened, turned out to be a miniature. Silently he handed it over to the brothers.
Andrew looked at it once, closed his eyes and handed it over to his brother. Michael looked at it and let out a low whistle. He looked down at the pugs and said, ‘It is very like her. And, by the clothing, I would say that the period is the same as that of our mournful young ghost.’
‘And we noticed that our ghost looks a little like our Bess,’ said Mac.
Andrew was looking less than jubilant, but Iggy said softly to him, ‘It must play itself out. Don’t worry. Bess has all the papers. She is prepared.’
‘We’re all here,’ piped up Mac, ‘that ghost woman will be nothing.’
‘I fear, Uncle,’ said Little Walter speaking softly to Mac, ‘that the ghost woman will be much indeed.’
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