Miss Silver’s needles moved rhythmically. She wore the dark blue crêpe-de-chine and her bog-oak brooch in the form of a rose with an Irish pearl at its heart. Her small, neat features expressed a high degree of interest. Candida no longer found it possible to think of her as a stranger. She imparted a sense of kindness, security and common sense not often to be found outside the family circle. The frankness of speech which is natural there seemed natural now. The strain which the day had brought was relaxed. It was quite easy to tell her things. She went on.

‘You know, I think the reason Anna was afraid was that she knew Nellie had locked her door, so if Aunt Cara had come in, it must have been by some other way. The walls in the old part of the house are very thick. I think there may be passages, and that Aunt Olivia would be very angry if anyone got to know about them. I know there is one in my room.’

If Miss Silver was startled she did not allow it to appear.

She went on knitting as she enquired,

‘And how do you know that?’

‘Someone came through my room in the middle of the night. I saw a crack of light where the bookcase is. There’s a door there, but I haven’t been able to find out how to open it. When I saw the light I pretended to be asleep – it was rather startling, you know – and someone came through the room and out by the door.’

‘Was it Miss Cara?’

‘I don’t know. Sometimes I think it was, and sometimes I think it couldn’t have been – because of my being so frightened. I was, you know.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘It was quite a startling occurrence.’

Candida flushed.

‘It was horrid,’ she said. ‘But if it had been Aunt Cara, I don’t think I should have minded like I did. And whoever it was wasn’t sleep-walking. It had a torch.’

Miss Silver looked a mild enquiry.

‘You do not say she.’

Candida’s colour brightened.

‘I thought about its being Joseph, and that made me so angry that I went after it. But I was too late – whoever it was had gone.’

Miss Silver said in a thoughtful voice,

‘Why should anyone who was not sleep-walking have taken the risk of passing through your room?’

‘I wondered if they knew just where the passage would come out. I thought if it was someone who was exploring – ’

Miss Silver inclined her head.

‘Yes, it might have been that way.’

There was a little pause before Candida spoke again.

‘I can’t help wondering about Aunt Cara – whether she was walking in her sleep when she fell. She might have been. You know, I don’t believe she would have been wandering about in the dark by herself if she had known what she was doing. The storm was so loud, and I think she would have been frightened. I did think she might be frightened. That is why I went along to her room.’

‘When was that?’

‘I didn’t look at the time. The wind was coming in those great noisy gusts. I thought Aunt Cara would be frightened, and I went along to her room.’

‘Did you go in?’

‘Not really. I didn’t want to wake her. I just stood there and listened. Of course the wind was too loud for me to hear anything, but I had put on the light at the end of the passage, and I thought if she was awake she would see me standing there. When I was sure that she must be asleep I shut the door and came away.’

Miss Silver said, ‘Sure?’ on an enquiring note. Her eyes were on Candida’s face. She saw a look of trouble cross it. It led her to amplify the question.

‘You were sure then that Miss Cara was asleep. Are you so sure about it now? Can you even be sure that she was in her room when you stood there looking in?’

The hand that was lying in Candida’s lap closed hard upon itself. She was back in the half-lit passage with the cold of the door-sill under her bare feet, and she was looking into a dark room with the drone of the wind in her ears. The room was perfectly dark, the curtains were closely drawn. She couldn’t see the bed, or the big mahogany wardrobe, or the washstand with its marble top. She couldn’t see anything at all. She said in a stumbling voice,

‘No – I’m not – sure – ’

There was a silence. In the end Candida went on.

‘Miss Silver, the Inspector says she wasn’t killed by falling down the stairs.’ A shudder went over her. ‘You see, she was lying on her face, but it was the back of her head – ’ She broke off, struggling for composure. ‘If she didn’t fall on the stairs, where did she fall – and how? He says someone must have moved her.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘There was dust on her slippers, and a cobweb on the tassel of her dressing-gown – I saw Anna brushing it off.’

Miss Silver spoke quickly.

‘She ought not to have done that.’

‘I don’t think she was thinking about what she did. She was crying. I think it was just that she wanted to do something for Aunt Cara. You know, when anything has happened like that, you don’t think. I didn’t myself – not till afterwards. Then, when the Inspector said she must have been moved, I remembered the cobweb and the dust – and I wondered – about the passages – whether she went into them and fell – and got hurt. You see, there are stories. Aunt Olivia told me about its being unlucky to touch the Benevent Treasure. There was James Benevent in the eighteenth century – he was going to sell some of it. They said he was thrown from his horse at his own front door. His head was dreadfully injured and he died. A long time afterwards his grandson, Guy Benevent, was going to take some of the treasure. He was found quite near the house with his head broken. They said it was footpads. I don’t know why Aunt Olivia told me all this, but she did. And when Derek and I were going through some of the old papers – we were supposed to be doing a family history – there was a rhyme:

‘ “Touch not nor try,

Sell not nor buy,

Give not nor take,

For dear life’s sake.”

‘So when I saw Aunt Cara, and the dust and cobweb, I wondered whether she had been looking – for the treasure.’

Miss Silver looked very grave indeed. She even stopped knitting for a moment.

‘Did you tell the Inspector?’

‘No, I didn’t. He didn’t ask me anything like that.’

Chapter Twenty-nine

Miss Silver did not feel called upon to make any comment. At the moment her connection with the case might be described as tenuous. Her professional assistance had been solicited by Stephen Eversley, but more in the capacity of a chaperone for Candida Sayle than as a private enquiry agent. He was, however, understandably disturbed by Miss Olivia’s unbalanced accusation and anxious to provide Candida with what protection he could. In the circumstances, he could not himself remain at Underhill. So she was there as it were on guard, her position delicate, the scope of her activities quite undefined. So much for Stephen Eversley and Candida Sayle. There was also the fact that Mr. Puncheon had enlisted her services in connection with the disappearance of his stepson Alan Thompson. The link between the two cases was the link between Miss Cara and a young man whom she had loaded with benefits and had even planned to marry. His disappearance had broken her heart. Was it for him that she sought when she walked in the old house at night? Did she walk waking, or sleeping – by known or by unknown ways? And where in this well-kept house had she picked up dust on her slippers and a cobweb on the tassel of her dressing-gown? Miss Silver had been shown over the house. She had traversed a bewildering maze of passages, had looked into rooms used and unused. Everywhere there was neatness and order – polished floors and shining furniture – a smell of beeswax and turpentine before which any spider would have retired – not a speck of dust. What Anna had brushed away could not have come from any of these ordered places.