Pilgrim’s Rest Read Online Free PDF Page A

lock up when I got through.”
    “Dear me! What did you do?”
    “I broke the window and got out that way. I got William and his grandson from the stables, and we put the fire out. Most of the papers were burned-which was a pity, but it might have been worse. The room is in the oldest part of the house, and the walls behind the pigeon-holing are stone, so the fire wouldn’t spread.”
    “A most fortunate circumstance. Major Pilgrim-you say that to the best of your belief the door was locked. I presume that you verified this.”
    “Well, as a matter of fact by the time the fire was out it wasn’t. But there it is-I couldn’t open it when it wanted opening, and in the end I don’t know who did open it, because by that time practically everyone in the house was rallying round. Anyone might have unlocked it, but no one seems to remember whether they did or not.”
    “In fact anyone in the house may have locked it, anyone may have unlocked it, or it may never have been locked at all?”
    Roger Pilgrim looked at his feet.
    “That’s about the size of it,” he said. “But why wouldn’t it open-can you tell me that?”
    Miss Silver changed the subject.
    “Now, Major Pilgrim, will you give me the name of everyone who was in the house on these two occasions-the name and just a short description.”
    He had picked up a half sheet of writing-paper from the table. His hands folded and refolded it, the fingers as tense as if they were about some matter of life and death. He kept his eyes on the twisting paper, but Miss Silver doubted whether he saw it. He said in a dragging voice,
    “Well-I don’t know, you know-”
    Miss Silver coughed. Her pencil tapped the table.
    “You are not married?”
    “Oh, no.”
    “Engaged?”
    “Well-as a matter of fact-no, I’m not engaged.”
    He received a bright smile.
    “I see-I am premature. But you have an attachment. Was the lady in the house at the time of either of these incidents?”
    “Oh, no.”
    “In the neighbourhood?”
    “Oh, no.”
    “Then let us return to those who were in the house. Will you give me the names?”
    “Well, there are my aunts-my father’s sisters, but a good bit older. My grandfather was married twice-they belong to the first family. There were four of them, all girls. These two didn’t marry. They have always lived at Pilgrim’s Rest.”
    “Their names?”
    “Aunt Collie-short for Columba. And Aunt Netta-short for Janetta.”
    Miss Silver wrote in the exercise-book, “Miss Columba Pilgrim-Miss Janetta Pilgrim.”
    “And now a little about them.”
    “Well, Aunt Collie’s large, and Aunt Netta’s small. Aunt Collie’s mad on gardening. I don’t know what we’d do without her, because of course there’s no labour to be had. She and old Pell just keep things going. Aunt Netta doesn’t do anything except embroidery. She’s making new needlework covers for all the chairs-she’s been at it for thirty years or so. Shocking waste of time, but she’s by way of being an invalid, so I suppose it’s a good thing for her to have something like that.”
    Miss Silver wrote in the exercise-book. When she had finished she looked up and said,
    “Pray go on.”
    “Well, there’s my cousin, Jerome Pilgrim. He got pretty badly smashed up at Dunkirk. He has to have a nurse. We’re lucky to have been able to keep her. She’s very good with him, and she keeps an eye on Aunt Netta too.”
    “Her name?”
    “Oh, Day-Miss Lona Day.”
    Miss Silver wrote down, “Jerome Pilgrim-Lona Day,” and enquired,
    “What age is your cousin?”
    “Jerome? Oh, about thirty-eight-thirty-nine. He’s Captain Pilgrim, if you want to put that down. He was a barrister before the war-rather mildly, if you know what I mean. And he wrote thrillers-not at all bad. But he hasn’t done anything since Dunkirk -too smashed up, poor chap.”
    “Is he confined to his bed?”
    He stared.
    “Jerome? Oh, no. He gets about-except when he has a bad turn. It’s his head