He looked at her as though seeing her for the first time for a fortnight

‘Why, of course. I think my brain must have gone mushy. Miss Climpson is the obvious person. I’ll write to her at once.’ He got pen and paper, wrote the address and ‘Dear Miss Climpson,’ and sat blankly, pen in hand.

‘Look here-I think you could write this better than I could. You’ve been to see the girl. You can explain… Oh, God! I’m so tired.’

It was the first crack in the defences.

He made his last effort to see Crutchley on the night before the execution. He was armed with a letter from Miss Climpson containing the outline of some very excellent and sensible arrangements for Polly Mason.

‘I don’t know when I shall be back,’ he said. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’

‘Oh, Peter-’

‘I say, for God’s sake don’t wait up for me.’

‘Very well, Peter.’

Harriet went to look for Bunter, and found him running over the Daimler from bonnet to back axle.

‘Is his lordship taking you with him?’

‘I couldn’t say, my lady. I have had no instructions.’

‘Try and go with him.’

‘I will do my best, my lady.’

‘Bunter… what usually happens?’

‘It depends, my lady. If the condemned man is able to display a friendly spirit, the reaction is less painful for all concerned. On the other hand, I have known us take the next boat or aeroplane to a foreign country at a considerable distance. But the circumstances have, of course, been different.’

‘Yes. Bunter, his lordship has particularly said he does not wish me to sit up for him. But if he should return tonight, and he doesn’t… if he should be very restless…’

That sentence did not seem to be ending properly. Harriet began again. ‘I shall go upstairs, but I don’t see how one could possibly sleep. I shall sit by the fire in my room.’

‘Very good, my lady.’

Their eyes met with perfect understanding.

The car was brought round to the door.

‘All right, Bunter. That will do.’

‘Your lordship does not require my services?’

‘Obviously not. You can’t leave her ladyship alone in the house.’

‘Her ladyship has been good enough to give me permission to go.’

‘Oh!’

A pause during which Harriet, standing in the porch, had time to think: Suppose he asks me whether I imagine he needs a keeper!

Then Bunter’s voice, with exactly the right note of dignified injury: ‘I had anticipated that your lordship would wish me to accompany you as usual.’

‘I see. Very well. Hop in.’

The old house was Harriet’s companion in her vigil. It waited with her, its evil spirit cast out, itself swept and garnished, ready for the visit of devil or angel. It was past two o’clock when she heard the car return.

There were steps on the gravel, the opening and shutting of the door, a brief murmur of voices-then silence. Then, unheralded by so much as a shuffle on the stair, came Bunter’s soft tap at the little door.

‘Well, Bunter?’

‘Everything has been done that could be done, my lady.’

They spoke in hushed tones, as though the doomed man lay already dead. ‘It was some considerable time before he would consent to see his lordship. At length the governor persuaded him, and his lordship was able to deliver the message and acquaint him with the arrangements made for the young woman’s future. I understand that he seemed to take very little interest in the matter; they told me there that he continued to be a sullen and intractable prisoner. His lordship came away very much distressed. It is his custom under such circumstances to ask the condemned man’s forgiveness. From his demeanour, I do not think he had it*

‘Did you come straight back?’

‘No, my lady. On leaving the prison at midnight, his lordship drove away in a westerly direction, very fast, for about fifty miles. That is not unusual; I have frequently known him drive all night. Then he stopped the car suddenly at a cross-roads, waited for a few minutes as though he were endeavouring to make up his mind, turned round and came straight back here, driving even faster. He was shivering very much when we came in, but refused to eat or drink anything. He said he could not sleep, so I made up a good fire in the sittingroom. I left him seated on the settle. I came up by the back way, my lady, because I think he might not wish to feel that you were in any anxiety about him.’

‘Quite right, Bunter-I’m glad you did that. Where are you going to be?’

‘I shall remain in the kitchen, my lady, within call. His lordship is not likely to require me, but if he should do so, he will find me at hand, making myself a little supper.’

‘That’s an excellent plan. I expect his lordship will prefer to be left to himself, but if he should ask for me-not on any account unless or until he does-will you tell him-’

‘Yes, my lady?’

‘Tell him there is still a light in my room, and that you think I am very much concerned about Crutchley.’

‘Very good, my lady. Would your ladyship like me to bring you a cup of tea?’

‘Oh. Bunter, thank you. Yes, I should.’

When the tea came, she drank it thirstily, and then sat listening. Everything was silent, except the church clock chiming out the quarters; but when she went into the next room she could hear faintly the beat of restless feet on the floor below.

She went back and waited. She could think only one thing, and that over and over again. I must not go to him; he must come to me. If he does not want me, I have failed altogether, and that failure will be with us all our lives. But the decision must be his and not mine. I have got to accept it. I have got to be patient. Whatever happens, I must not go to him.

It was four by the church clock when she heard the sound she had been waiting for: the door at the bottom of the stair creaked. For a few moments nothing followed, and she thought he had changed his mind. She held her breath till she heard his footsteps mount slowly and reluctantly and enter the next room. She feared they might stop there, but this time he came straight on and pushed open the door which she had left ajar.

‘Harriet…’

‘Come in, dear.’

He came over and stood close beside her, mute and shivering. She put her hand out to him and he took it eagerly, laying his other hand in a fumbling gesture on her shoulder.

‘You’re cold, Peter. Come nearer the fire.’

‘It’s not cold,’ he said, half-angrily, ‘it’s my rotten nerves. I can’t help it. I suppose I’ve never been really right since the War. I hate-behaving like this,, I tried to stick it out by myself.’

‘But why should you?’

‘It’s this damned waiting about till they’ve finished…’

‘I know. I couldn’t sleep either.’

He stood holding out his hands mechanically to the fire till he could control the chattering of his teeth.

‘It’s damnable for you too. I’m sorry. I’d forgotten. That sounds idiotic. But I’ve always been alone.’

‘Yes, of course. I’m like that, too. I like to crawl away and hide in a corner.’

‘Well,’ he said, with a transitory gleam of himself, ‘you’re my corner and I’ve come to hide.’

‘Yes, my dearest.’

(And the trumpets sounded for her on the other side.)

‘It’s not as bad as it might be. The worst times are when they haven’t admitted it, and one goes over the evidence and wonders if one wasn’t wrong, after all… And sometimes they’re so damned decent…’

‘What was Crutchley like?’

‘He doesn’t seem to care for anybody or regret anything, except that he didn’t pull it off. He hates old Noakes just as much as the day he killed him. He wasn’t interested in Polly-only said she was a fool and a bitch, and I was a bigger fool to waste time and money on her. And Aggie Twitterton could go and rot with the whole pack of us, and the sooner the better.’