in the big room.
"I can't do it, my boots creak," said Digby suddenly.
"I can't find the cover," said Michael.
"Another minute, villain," said Isobel. "Hurry up."
And then I was conscious that someone was breathing very near me. I felt a faint touch on my elbow. A hand came down lightly against my wrist--and I grabbed.
My left hand was round a coat-sleeve, beneath which was the stiff cuff of a dress shirt, and my right grasped a wrist. I was very glad that it was a man's arm. Had it been a girl's I should have let go. Ghastly Gustus, of course. . . . It was just the silly sort of thing he would do, and it was just like him to take advantage of the darkness, when he found the joke had fallen remarkably flat. I did not envy him the look that would appear on Aunt Patricia's face when the light went up and he was discovered in my grip.
I would have let him go, I think, had he not endeavoured to put the blame on me, and insisted on my nearness to the table when the light failed.
I was a little surprised that he did not struggle, and I was prepared for a sudden violent twist and a swift evasion in the dark.
He kept perfectly still.
"I am going to count ten, and then up goes the light. Are you ready, villain?" came the voice of Isobel from the door.
"Yes, I've put it back," said Digby.
"So have I," said Michael, close to me.
"And I," echoed Claudia.
Then Isobel switched on the light, and I found that my hands were clenched on the right arm of--my brother Michael!
I was more surprised than I can say.
It was only a small matter, of course; a pointless practical joke and a pointless lie, but it was so utterly unlike Michael. It was unlike him to do it, and more unlike him flatly to deny having done it. And my surprise increased when Michael, looking at me queerly, actually remarked:
"So it was me, John, was it? Oh, Feeble Geste!"
I felt absurdly hurt, and turning to Augustus said, "I apologise, Gussie. I admit I thought it was you."
"Oh, don't add insult to injury," he replied. "Put the beastly thing back, and stop being a funny ass. Enough of you is too much."
Put the beastly thing back! I turned and looked at the cushion. It was empty still. I looked at Michael and Michael looked at me.
"Oh, shove it back, Beau," I said. "It's all been most extraordinarily clever and amusing, I'm sure. But I'm inclined to agree with Gussie."
Michael gave me one of his long, thoughtful, penetrating looks. "H'm," said he.
Isobel came over from the door.
"I do think you might have played up, sillies," said she. "Put it back, Beau, and let's have a dance. May we, Aunt?"
"Certainly," said Aunt Patricia, "as soon as ever the great humorist in our midst has received our felicitations," and I really pitied the said humorist, when he should make his avowal, annoyed with him as I felt.
The Chaplain looked from face to face of the six of us and said nothing. Aunt Patricia did the same.
We all stood silent.
"Now stop this fooling," said she. "Unless the 'Blue Water' is produced at once, I shall be very seriously annoyed."
"Come on, somebody," said Digby.
Another minute's silence.
It began to grow unbearable.
"I am waiting," said Lady Brandon at last, and her foot began to tap.
From that moment the matter became anything but a joke, swiftly growing unpleasant and increasingly so.
§3.
I shall not forget the succeeding hours in a hurry, and their horrible atmosphere of suspicion--seven people suspecting one of the other seven, and the eighth person pretending to do so.
My capable and incisive aunt quickly brought things to a clear issue, upon getting no reply to her "I am waiting," and her deliberate look from face to face of the angry and uncomfortable group around her.
"Maurice," said she to the Chaplain, laying her hand upon his sleeve, her face softening and sweetening incredibly, "come and sit by me until I have asked each of these young people a question. Then I want you to go to bed, for it's getting late," and she led him to a big and deep chesterfield that stood on a low dais in a big window recess.
Seating herself with the air and presence of a queen on a throne, she said, quietly and very coldly:
"This is getting serious, and unless it ends at once, the consequences will be serious too. For the last time I ask the boy, or girl, who moved the 'Blue Water,' to give it to me and we will end the silly business now and here, and make no further reference to it. If not . . . Come, this is absurd and ridiculous. . . ."
"Oh, come off it, John," said Augustus, "for God's sake."
Nobody else spoke.
"Very well," said my aunt, "since the fool won't leave his folly. . . . Come here, Claudia. . . . Have you touched the 'Blue Water' since the Chaplain restored it to its place?" She laid her hand on Claudia's arm, drew her close, and looked into her eyes.
"No, Aunt. . . ."
"No, Aunt," said Claudia again.
"Of course not," said Aunt Patricia. "Go to bed, dear. Good night."
And Claudia departed, not without an indignant glance at me.
"Come here, Isobel," continued my aunt. "Have you touched the 'Blue Water' since the Chaplain put it back in its place?"
"No, Aunt, I have not," replied Isobel.
"I am sure you have not. Go to bed. Good night," said Lady Brandon.
Isobel turned to go and then stopped.
"But I might have done, Aunt, if the idea had occurred to me," she said. "It is just a joke, of course."
"Bed," rejoined her aunt, and Isobel departed with a kind glance at me.
Aunt Patricia turned to Augustus.
"Come here," she said coldly, and with a hard stare into his somewhat shifty eyes. "Please answer absolutely truthfully--for your own sake. If you have got the 'Blue Water,' and give it to me now, I shall not say another word about the matter. Have you?"
"I swear to God, Aunt . . ." broke out Augustus.
"You need not swear to God, nor to me, Augustus," was the cold reply. "Yes or No. Have you got it?"
"No, Aunt! I take my solemn oath I . . ." the unhappy youth replied vehemently, when the cold voice interrupted:
