Sands of Time. Barbara Erskine

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СКАЧАТЬ from the glass chimney. Oh please, let it not be running out of oil. Normally she would have turned it off long since. There was a faint murmur of sound from the window and she tensed. Could it be the slither of a snake? Something seemed to be scraping at the glass near her. Then she heard her name being whispered so quietly it could just have been the sibilance of the wind in the creepers.

      Suddenly unable to stand the terror anymore she turned and flung back the curtains. The balcony was completely empty as the moonlight flooded past her into the room.

      Mr Dunglass was waiting for them once more as they rode into the castle courtyard. He stabled their horses, showed them into the museum and, having confirmed that his master was most certainly still in America, left them with only the minimal of courtesies.

      Sarah looked after him as he strode back across the cobbles.

      ‘He’s not feeling very sociable this morning, it seems.’

      ‘No.’ Louisa clutched her bag of drawing materials tightly to her chest as she looked round. ‘Just as well. I don’t feel very sociable either.’ She swept off her tall hat with its veil and dropped it with her whip onto the chair by the door.

      ‘So, what are we going to do?’ Sarah whispered. Neither woman had moved more than a few steps into the room.

      ‘I don’t know.’ Louisa was staring at the huge headdress. ‘I will have to sketch it. Mr Dunglass will expect to see something, but before I do –’ She was staring towards the back of the room – towards the Egyptian part of the collection.

      The eyes of the mummy stared, huge and blank, in a silence broken only by the sound of the skirt of her riding habit dragging on the stone floor, the tap of her high heels. She stopped by the case containing the snake and looked down at it for several seconds before rapping loudly on the glass. It didn’t move.

      ‘You didn’t think it was real –’ Sarah’s whisper at her side made her jump.

      ‘No. I didn’t think it was real.’

      ‘But you’re afraid of it.’

      ‘He used a snake for his magic, Sarah. In Egypt. It obeyed him. It killed for him.’

      Sarah stared at her, horrified. ‘And there was a snake in your dream?’

      ‘No.’ Louisa felt her face grow hot. ‘But last night, on the terrace, I thought I heard something –’ She paused. ‘I will not be afraid, Sarah. I will not let him bully me. There must be a way of containing him.’

      Sarah shuddered. ‘I don’t like it here. Not now. I’d never have thought of this stuff as evil, not really, not before. But now …’ She was looking over Louisa’s shoulder towards the snake.

      ‘Well, it is evil. Surely you’ve heard his reputation?’

      Sarah looked abashed. ‘I’m afraid I thought it rather daring knowing him. I never believed it all to be true. He has always been so utterly charming I thought that the talk of his interest in the occult must be exaggerated.’

      Louisa pursed her lips. ‘Charm is something that exudes from every pore of the man. But if you look closer, right into his eyes, then –’ She broke off suddenly, staring round.

      Sarah stepped back. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

      ‘He’s here. I can feel him watching us.’ Louisa caught the other woman’s arm.

      ‘Don’t be silly,’ Sarah whispered back. ‘He can’t be.’ She too was staring round the room.

      ‘He is. I can smell the pomade he uses; and that strange smoky scent I smelled in my dream.’ She gave a shuddering sigh suddenly. ‘Can you hear drums?’

      ‘No.’ Sarah shook her head adamantly. ‘No, I can’t. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’ She tried to pull Louisa away but Louisa tore her arm free and put her hands to her head. ‘Drums! I can hear drums!’

      ‘No, you can’t. You’re imagining it.’

      Louisa was shaking her head, her eyes closed. ‘He’s trying to get into my head. I can see him. He’s coming closer.’

      Sarah was near panic. She pulled at Louisa’s arm again, then she turned and ran towards the door. ‘Mr Dunglass, come quickly!’ She pulled at the door handle, but it wouldn’t open. She pulled harder, rattling it desperately but again it wouldn’t turn. ‘Oh, my God!’ She ran to the window but the windows were high up and barred on the outside. Spinning round she ran back to Louisa. ‘Lou, are you all right? Lou, listen to me! It’s all in your head. He’s not here. He’s not. He can’t reach you. He’s in America. It’s your imagination. It has to be! Fight it, Lou!’

      Louisa could see him clearly now. He was sitting in a circle of Indian braves. In the centre of the circle a fire burned, lighting the darkness of the prairie night. The men were passing a pipe one to the other, each taking a long slow draw of the aromatic smoke before passing it on to his neighbour. Like them, Roger Carstairs wore buckskin trousers and a loose shirt stitched with beads; his hair was long, swept back from his forehead and held in place by an embroidered band, hung with feathers and beads. His eyes were closed.

      Louisa stepped closer to him, feeling the warm prairie soil under her bare feet, smelling the fragrant smoke, the sharp wind across the grass cold on her naked skin. Slowly he opened his eyes and he was looking straight at her.

      ‘So, I have brought you to me, Mrs Shelley. How convenient.’ He stood up slowly stepping away from the circle into the warm scented darkness beyond the reach of the firelight.

      He held out his hand towards her. She stepped back quickly, aware suddenly that she was after all still wearing her green riding habit, the train now securely looped to her waist, out of the way, and her feet, a moment before bare, were encased in her high-heeled riding boots. ‘Don’t you touch me!’ It was only in his dream that she was naked.

      He smiled. ‘I won’t touch you. Not here, Mrs Shelley. Not in front of my brothers and – who is that with you?’ He peered past her. ‘Ah, Lady Douglas. My trusty and oh so incurious neighbour. So, you have drawn her into my web with you. No matter.’ He reached towards Louisa and ran his finger lightly down the buttons of her habit. ‘We will meet later, my dear, when we are both alone. You have to admit you will look forward to that as much as I shall. Our love-making was spectacular, was it not?’

      ‘Louisa! Wake up!’ She realised suddenly that Sarah was shaking her arm. ‘Lou! Can you hear me?’

      Louisa blinked. He had gone. There was no sign of him or the Indian braves or the camp fire. She was once again in the high-roofed room in the outbuilding at Carstairs Castle with Sarah.

      ‘Louisa?’ Sarah seemed near to tears. ‘Please, listen to me!’

      ‘I’m listening.’ Louisa’s mouth was dry, her head spinning.

      ‘Oh, thank God! I thought you had gone mad. What happened? You were in some sort of a trance.’

      ‘I was in America.’ Louisa put her hands to her face. She took a deep shaky breath. ‘I was there, where Carstairs is. Near his camp fire with lots of Indian warriors. He was dressed like them –’ She СКАЧАТЬ