The House Of The Bears Read Online Free Page B

riderless horses, turning and stamping, lit by that lurid light – a scene that might have come from the Middle Ages, for the red glow shone on the clothes of the riders as if on metal. Markham was having trouble with a big black horse. The youngster, Gerry, was sitting erect and still, looking towards the gates. They were open, lit by flares like those on the walls of the house. A single horseman sat his horse in the gateway.
    The courtyard was momentarily silent. Then suddenly there came a long-drawn-out sound – the baying of a hound some distance off. Coming out of the surrounding darkness into that scene of infernal wildness, it made Palfrey jump. A woman sitting on a grey horse exclaimed: ‘They’ve found something!’
    Palfrey looked at her. It was not Lady Markham but the other woman, who, he had been told, had gone early to bed the previous night – Morne’s other sister, Rachel. She made a splendid figure, vital and eager.
    Markham said: ‘All ready?’
    ‘All except me,’ murmured Palfrey.
    Markham glanced round at him, and for a moment his expression reminded Palfrey of their encounter at the foot of the minstrel staircase.
    ‘What are you doing here, Palfrey?’
    ‘Something disturbed me,’ said Palfrey, mildly. ‘I’m curious.’
    ‘Mind your own damned business!’ snapped Markham.
    He jerked the reins. His horse moved off, and the others followed, a glittering cavalcade of prancing horses and silent riders. There were six riders altogether; he guessed that three were grooms. Two horses, bridled and saddled, were left in the courtyard, but there was only one other man, the old servant who had helped with Loretta the previous night.
    The cavalcade passed through the gateway. They turned left, off the road. Only Palfrey and the old servant were left. As Palfrey lit a cigarette, he saw the flash of torch-light not far beyond the wall. It shone on a horse and rider. He felt suddenly angry and determined not to be put off so cavalierly, and hurried down the steps. Before the servant knew what he was about to do, he had climbed into the saddle with a quick, effortless movement and gathered up the reins.
    ‘You mustn’t ride out, sir!’
    ‘Why not?’ asked Palfrey.
    ‘The moor isn’t safe for those who don’t know it!’
    ‘Do you know it?’
    ‘Oh, yes, sir, but-’
    ‘Then come and look after me,’ said Palfrey. He gave a gentle pull at the reins, and his horse moved off.
    It was very dark.
    They were beyond the glow of the flares, although sometimes Palfrey could see them leaping and dancing in the distance, too far away now to show the outline of Morne House. They were like meteors in the darkness of the night. The wind was bitter, but he was warm from the ride, and his first doubts had gone; he was right to do this, and the old servant approved, or he would not have followed.
    Palfrey could see the pale blur of his face. ‘If I tell you what has happened, sir, you won’t let Sir Claude know, will you?’
    ‘No,’ Palfrey promised.
    Thank you, sir. Sir Rufus is out on the moors, afoot. He left at five o’clock,’ said the man. ‘He was followed, of course, but the fool lost him.’
    ‘Followed, of course,’ thought Palfrey. How far could he try this friendly fellow. Aloud, he asked: ‘Why was he followed, do you know?’
    ‘He is always followed,’ said the guide.
    ‘Does he often go out?’
    ‘More often than he should,’ said the guide. ‘The moor is in his blood, sir; he can’t help himself; it calls him and he goes out. Once he was lost all night. And the moor is dangerous in March, more dangerous than any other time of the year.’
    ‘I see,’ said Palfrey.
    They rode on in silence for some minutes, and then the man said: ‘I am greatly worried about the master.’
    ‘Surely he knows the moor well?’
    ‘I wasn’t thinking of that, sir. Last night-.’ The man paused, but his deep, clear voice seemed to echo about them. ‘Last night he tried to kill himself,