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sway him towards the idea that the real information they were seeking how the crack in the barrier was first started did indeed lie in the earlier period. This is almost certainly the document the alchemist was using to make his unsuccessful elixir, he said. I m not quite sure what the spell refers to, but it might turn out that we could use it ourselves. 143 Oh, come on, Doctor! Magic spells? That s not the way the world wags, now is it? Not the way your world wags or mine for that matter. We both deal in facts, as far as we can. But you of all people should know that a fact seldom crops up without a whole string of associated beliefs. That s the world you journalists inhabit a world of value judgements. Everything is strained through a particular belief filter, You call it finding an angle. Right? So? Belief is more powerful than you might think. If something has been believed by a number of people for a long time, it has a subjective reality; and that can have real empirical effects. He held up the parchment. Especially when you re dealing with N-Space. Sarah shook her head. I find that difficult to believe. She looked up. He was grinning at her. Oh you! she said. The conversation with the Doctor took place during one of the odd absences of Louisa, who, while vowing eternal love and friendship to her new chum Sarah, would every now and again slip away for half an hour or so, returning flushed and a mite tousled, talking nonsense at a rate of knots, as Sarah put it to herself. 144 This obviously concerned another of her secrets and it wasn t very difficult to guess what kind of secret it was, especially when the third time she was gone Sarah, who had been given permission to get dressed, caught a glimpse of her spotted white gown behind a hedge Just before a young man carrying a long handled spade emerged and looked both ways before going towards the kitchen garden. Who is he? she asked casually, when Louisa once more returned, burbling about the beauty of the sunlight on the sea and the sails of the fishing boats looking like seabirds wings and She stopped, wide eyed. How did you know? she gasped. Oh please, please, dearest Sarah Jane, do not tell! Powly would send me to a convent, I know he would, and I would end my days a cloistered sister, a dried up old maid, an ancient nun with nothing but my memories and whiskers and warts. The very thought throws me into an agony! I implore you to keep my secret clasped to your heart! Sarah, who had been trying to get a word in, assured her that her secret was safe. Who is he? she said again. The gardener s boy? Louisa looked at her as if she were a witch. 145 Why yes, she said. Or so he is taken to be by all who know him. But, to say the truth, I am persuaded that he is in fact she lowered her voice Powly s long lost heir! Sarah did her best to keep a straight face. Does the Barone know he s lost his heir? I know not. But he is not married; he has no son; there is no nephew, married niece or cousin to carry on the line. The chief of all this must be that he needs an heir. He is an old man of forty! And Giuseppe tells me that his family is come down in station and one has only to perceive that noble brow, that true patrician nose, that Yes, said Sarah. I expect he s very pretty. For a moment, she thought that the sunny Louisa was going to be angry. But then she laughed. To be sure, she said, I am no unbiased witness. She ran to the door. Come, she said. I will show you the last of my secrets. It was with a hopeful heart that Sarah realized that she was being led to the courtyard near the cliff top. Perhaps Louisa had been disingenuous in denying any knowledge of the white lady. Perhaps this was the very secret she had been keeping to herself. But when they went through the archway which led from the garden to the cloistered court, Louisa took her to the store room built into the castle wall (which Sarah knew 146 before as the alchemist s workshop). There! she said, pointing dramatically to a perfectly plain bit of stone work above the sacks of vegetables. Behind that wall we shall discover the secrets of the ages. That is where they lie, the mouldering bones of the evil monk, along with the treasure of the castello! We? Who was going to do this discovering, then? Sarah thought she d better find out. Why Giuseppe and myself, of course. As the clock strikes twelve, just as it happened in the book. And Powly will be so pleased to have the treasure, he ll consent to our betrothal, and recognize him as his heir and oh, Sarah! Life is just like the books, is it not? No, no, it is better, far better! She could contain herself no longer. With a little hop and a skip, she whirled around and danced up the steps onto the high wall, jumped up into one of the crenellations of the battlements and stood on the very edge, overlooking the sea, her spotted white muslin whipping back and forth in the merciless wind. Louisa! Come back, it s dangerous! called Sarah, running after her. But Louisa was oblivious to everything but the rapture of her fantasy. Lifting her arms to the sky, she called on the Spirit of Nature to witness to herjoy. 147 But Sarah could not share her exaltation. With sinking heart, she faced the truth. She could pretend no longer: the white lady was indeed Louisa herself. 148 Twelve The Brigadier s sense of disquiet about Vilmio s intentions soon resolved itself into a professional resolve to increase the security of the castle. After all, he thought, if the boy was right in what he heard, then it was by no means beyond the bounds of possibility that Vilmio might try to eliminate the rest of his opposition namely the Brigadier himself by the use of violence, which would leave Uncle Mario at his mercy. Unfortunately, travelling as a private citizen rather than on duty, he had had perforce to leave his own gun behind. But then, the first priority wasn t so much a matter of weaponry as of personnel. Apart from himself, the total garrison of his fortress was comprised of two old men and a boy. No, no, no, no, no, said Mario, when asked to accompany him down to the village to recruit some reinforcements. My people, when the little fiends come out to play, they run away like Georgie the Porgie. Good night, sweethearts. Good ridding. Well, I m sorry, Uncle, replied the Brigadier, but I m not prepared to take the responsibility of keeping you safe unless we get some help. This man may turn up on the doorstep with a gun. 149 I got gun, replied the old man. I show you. And off he went in his shuffling, skipping run to the steep stairs leading up to the gallery in the great hall. His impetuous rush became more of a hoist and a heave as he pulled himself to the top and disappeared from view, but he was back in no time, flourishing a strange looking object above his head. Ecco! he said. Behold! Good grief, it s a blunderbuss, said the Brigadier. Is right. Belonged to my grandpa s grandpa. Is good gun, I tell you straight. To demonstrate this proposition, he put the gun to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Luckily he was pointing it at nothing more important than an Aubusson tapestry hanging on the adjacent wall, for there was a mighty bang, the charge of pebbles, metal nuts and bolts, olive stones and rusty nails flew through the air and the priceless cloth was rent by a multitude of jagged holes. The Brigadier took a deep breath. If Mario had aimed it at him, Vilmio s problems would have been over. Mario himself was also somewhat shaken. The gun had apparently been loaded since the second world war, when it was kept in readiness to deal with any German invasion, Mario having been indomitably anti fascist from 1922 on. 150 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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