is only hypnotized–oh, I cannot bear it any longer, I must tell someone!”
I took my visitor’s hand and patted it reassuringly. “If you have any revelation to make, I hope you will tell me. You may find me a more receptive audience than you expect. More than that, you may help us all to find a way out of this ghastly business.”
The young woman sighed, and sat back in her armchair. “You’ve heard the statements I gave, and Martin gave, at the inquest. They are substantially true as far as they go. but mine, at least, did not go farenough. Now let me tell you everything.
“You’ve seen the Shade now, Doctor–it’s always a fairly placid stream, no more than twenty or thirty yards wide anywhere within several miles of our house.
“We’d brought a picnic basket with us, and most of its contents had been disposed of–we’d been nibbling pretty steadily. And we were singing, off and on–Louisa had brought her banjo.
“Martin of course had been doing almost all the rowing, though each of us girls had taken a brief turn. Everything was going peacefully and pleasantly... and then it happened.” Miss Altamont paused at this point, her blue eyes searching mine as if for reassurance.
“Go on,” I urged, as cheerfully as possible.
“You won’t call for attendants and have me taken to an asylum?”
“Most assuredly, I will not.”
“You say that very convincingly. Well, call them if you must; still I must tell someone.
“I was sitting with Lou in the stern, both of us naturally facing forward, looking past Martin toward the prow. What I thought I saw then... it was only the briefest impression, and for days and days I have tried to convince myself that I must have been mistaken...”
“Yes, go on,” I urged again. Encouragement seemed necessary.
Briefly the girl still hesitated. but then she plunged ahead. “What I thought I saw was... first hands. Large, human hands, coming up out of the water, one seizing the very front of the boat on each side, like this.” The girl raised her own small hands in demonstration. “And then... then I had the distinct impression of a man’s head and body coming up, just on the left side of the boat as I sat looking forward.”
“A man? Who?”
“I don’t know; it was only the briefest glimpse, if it was not entirely an illusion, but I have no reason to believe that it was anyone I’d ever seen before. My impression is of longish red hair, and a red beard, both looking dark because they were wet–and I can remember, or I think I can, that his lips were parted, showing his white, sharp teeth. And his eyes... they were green, I think, and when I try to remember, something about the memory always makes me think of dead fish, or of something drowned...”
Briefly Miss Altamont buried her face in her hands. When she looked up again, I asked as gently as possible: “Was there anything else you noticed about him?”
“Only that he was–he appeared to be totally unclothed, and his skin was everywhere very pale–I may have only imagined all this, you understand.”
“I understand.”
“I suppose Louisa might possibly have seen him too, because she uttered the last sound I ever heard from her lips, a kind of little gasp, or shriek–although that may have been only because the boat was going over. I cannot rid my brain of the thought that the man was really there, and that he tipped it. If so, it was incredible.”
“Surely any man might tip a rowboat?” I asked in soothing tones.
Miss Altamont dabbed at her eyes with a small handkerchief. She nodded. “Yes, an ordinary man could do it gradually, by throwing all his weight on one side and forcing one gunwale under water. but whatever happened was nothing like that. What happened still does not seem possible. We were in the center of the stream, deep water, and I don’t see how the man’s feet could have been planted on the bottom. Yet he–if he was really there–he
I nodded reassuringly. “Do you think that Martin might have seen this man too–if, as you say, he was really there?”
“He might have seen him.” The young woman shook her head. “but he has said nothing to me about it. Of course at first Martin was facing in the opposite direction, but he might possibly have seen him when the boat capsized... Dr. Watson?” A new tone had come into the girl’s voice. “Is it really possible that you believe me?”
“I have no reason to doubt, Miss Altamont, that events might have taken place very much as you describe them. I only wish that you had told us sooner.”
Her blue eyes opened wide. My reaction was evidently not at all what she had anticipated. “How strange!”
“My belief? Well, as I have grown older, I have learned that there are many strange things in the world. Are there any more details that you can give regarding this pale man?”
The lady shuddered. “As I say, in the next moment, we were all in the water, and I never saw this– apparition–phantasm–again. but Doctor, it haunts my dreams. And there I can see it clearly–that hideous, somehow dead-looking face. He has red hair, dark with wetting, all matted over his forehead. And he is glaring–no, not glaring,
A moment later she demanded: “but then who was he, Dr. Watson– if he was really there? What is the explanation?”
“That will have to wait. I cannot provide it.”
In the meantime, there still had been no indication that my effort to communicate with Dracula would be successful. I hoped I somehow could get Miss Altamont out of the way before he did arrive.
When I had soothed Miss Altamont as best I could, and while I was endeavoring to persuade her to rest, I closed and put away the old book, set aside a partially burned candle, and picked up the broken pieces of a small mirror which were now littering Holmes’s chemical workbench.
“Have an accident?” my visitor asked abstractedly, observing my activities. She had arisen from her chair and was following me about the sitting room, unthinkingly, like a small child trailing a parent. “I’ve studied chemistry in school,” she added, with the irrelevance of a mind wandering in weariness.
I muttered some evasive comment. Truly I was concerned about the young lady’s welfare, for she looked little better than Armstrong, as if she might faint at any moment.
After persuading her to sit down again, I rang for Mrs. Hudson, who soon looked in. As I had hoped, she offered Miss Altamont the hospitality of her own rooms. She also sent billy, the young page, with a blanket and pillow for Armstrong, and for me some later editions of the newspapers, which were still making much of the story of Holmes’s disappearance. by this time other news had forced the story from the headlines, and now the supposed supernatural aspects of the matter were receiving somewhat less play.
With Martin Armstrong snoring comfortably on the sofa, in a manner which indicated he would be there for hours to come, Rebecca, obviously losing the struggle to keep her own eyes open, was soon persuaded to take advantage of Mrs. Hudson’s kind offer of hospitality, and avail herself of a few hours’ rest in our landlady’s rooms.
I had awakened from my own sleep at seven in the evening, and by now the long summer twilight was well advanced.
My energies had been somewhat restored by a few hours of uneasy slumber, and now by a second meal provided by Mrs. Hudson. Having already done all that I could do in the way of calling for specialized help,I resolved to return as soon as practical to Amberley, there to aid the search for Holmes in whatever way was possible. I thought it would be possible to catch a late train before midnight.
Once back in Amberley I intended, despite Ambrose Altamont’s warning, to arrange to see Sarah Kirkaldy, privately if at all possible, and question her. I had gathered before my return to London that she was not to be held at the local police station, but kept more or less under house arrest in her room at the Altamonts’.
Remembering that there was a telephone at Norberton House, I naturally thought of calling there before I boarded a train again, to discover whether there might be any fresh news of Holmes, or other developments in the case.
The voice of Ambrose Altamont, when I heard it on the other end of the line, sounded coolly sympathetic
