Reading Help The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie. Ch.I-VI
`
` At this juncture, Mrs. Inglethorp called to Cynthia from the `
` hall, and the girl ran out. `
` `
` "Just carry up my despatch-case, will you, dear? I'm going to `
` bed." `
` `
` The door into the hall was a wide one. I had risen when Cynthia `
` did, John was close by me. There were therefore three witnesses `
` who could swear that Mrs. Inglethorp was carrying her coffee, as `
` yet untasted, in her hand. `
` `
` My evening was utterly and entirely spoilt by the presence of Dr. `
` Bauerstein. It seemed to me the man would never go. He rose at `
` last, however, and I breathed a sigh of relief. `
` `
` "I'll walk down to the village with you," said Mr. Inglethorp. `
` "I must see our agent over those estate accounts." He turned to `
` John. "No one need sit up. I will take the latch-key." `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER III. `
` `
` THE NIGHT OF THE TRAGEDY `
` `
` `
` To make this part of my story clear, I append the following plan `
` of the first floor of Styles. The servants' rooms are reached `
` through the door B. They have no communication with the right `
` wing, where the Inglethorps' rooms were situated. `
` `
` It seemed to be the middle of the night when I was awakened by `
` Lawrence Cavendish. He had a candle in his hand, and the `
` agitation of his face told me at once that something was `
` seriously wrong. `
` `
` "What's the matter?" I asked, sitting up in bed, and trying to `
` collect my scattered thoughts. `
` `
` "We are afraid my mother is very ill. She seems to be having `
` some kind of fit. Unfortunately she has locked herself in." `
` `
` "I'll come at once." `
` `
` I sprang out of bed; and, pulling on a dressing-gown, followed `
` Lawrence along the passage and the gallery to the right wing of `
` the house. `
` `
` John Cavendish joined us, and one or two of the servants were `
` standing round in a state of awe-stricken excitement. Lawrence `
` turned to his brother. `
` `
` "What do you think we had better do?" `
` `
` Never, I thought, had his indecision of character been more `
` apparent. `
` `
` John rattled the handle of Mrs. Inglethorp's door violently, but `
` with no effect. It was obviously locked or bolted on the inside. `
` The whole household was aroused by now. The most alarming sounds `
` were audible from the interior of the room. Clearly something `
` must be done. `
` `
` "Try going through Mr. Inglethorp's room, sir," cried Dorcas. `
` "Oh, the poor mistress!" `
` `
` Suddenly I realized that Alfred Inglethorp was not with us--that `
` he alone had given no sign of his presence. John opened the door `
` of his room. It was pitch dark, but Lawrence was following with `
` the candle, and by its feeble light we saw that the bed had not `
` been slept in, and that there was no sign of the room having been `
` occupied. `
` `
` We went straight to the connecting door. That, too, was locked `
` or bolted on the inside. What was to be done? `
` `
` "Oh, dear, sir," cried Dorcas, wringing her hands, "what ever `
` shall we do?" `
` `
` "We must try and break the door in, I suppose. It'll be a tough `
` job, though. Here, let one of the maids go down and wake Baily `
` and tell him to go for Dr. Wilkins at once. Now then, we'll have `
` a try at the door. Half a moment, though, isn't there a door `
` into Miss Cynthia's rooms?" `
` `
` "Yes, sir, but that's always bolted. It's never been undone." `
` `
` "Well, we might just see." `
` `
` He ran rapidly down the corridor to Cynthia's room. Mary `
` Cavendish was there, shaking the girl--who must have been an `
` unusually sound sleeper--and trying to wake her. `
` `
` In a moment or two he was back. `
` `
` "No good. That's bolted too. We must break in the door. I `
` think this one is a shade less solid than the one in the `
` passage." `
` `
` We strained and heaved together. The framework of the door was `
` solid, and for a long time it resisted our efforts, but at last `
` we felt it give beneath our weight, and finally, with a `
` resounding crash, it was burst open. `
` `
` We stumbled in together, Lawrence still holding his candle. Mrs. `
` Inglethorp was lying on the bed, her whole form agitated by `
` violent convulsions, in one of which she must have overturned the `
` table beside her. As we entered, however, her limbs relaxed, and `
` she fell back upon the pillows. `
` `
` John strode across the room, and lit the gas. Turning to Annie, `
` one of the housemaids, he sent her downstairs to the dining-room `
` for brandy. Then he went across to his mother whilst I unbolted `
` the door that gave on the corridor. `
` `
` I turned to Lawrence, to suggest that I had better leave them now `
` that there was no further need of my services, but the words were `
` frozen on my lips. Never have I seen such a ghastly look on any `
` man's face. He was white as chalk, the candle he held in his `
` shaking hand was sputtering onto the carpet, and his eyes, `
` petrified with terror, or some such kindred emotion, stared `
` fixedly over my head at a point on the further wall. It was as `
` though he had seen something that turned him to stone. I `
` instinctively followed the direction of his eyes, but I could see `
` nothing unusual. The still feebly flickering ashes in the grate, `
` and the row of prim ornaments on the mantelpiece, were surely `
` harmless enough. `
` `
` The violence of Mrs. Inglethorp's attack seemed to be passing. `
` She was able to speak in short gasps. `
` `
` "Better now--very sudden--stupid of me--to lock myself in." `
` `
` A shadow fell on the bed and, looking up, I saw Mary Cavendish `
` standing near the door with her arm around Cynthia. She seemed `
` to be supporting the girl, who looked utterly dazed and unlike `
` herself. Her face was heavily flushed, and she yawned `
` repeatedly. `
` `
` "Poor Cynthia is quite frightened," said Mrs. Cavendish in a low `
` clear voice. She herself, I noticed, was dressed in her white `
` land smock. Then it must be later than I thought. I saw that a `
` faint streak of daylight was showing through the curtains of the `
` windows, and that the clock on the mantelpiece pointed to close `
` upon five o'clock. `
` `
` A strangled cry from the bed startled me. A fresh access of pain `
` seized the unfortunate old lady. The convulsions were of a `
` violence terrible to behold. Everything was confusion. We `
` thronged round her, powerless to help or alleviate. A final `
` convulsion lifted her from the bed, until she appeared to rest `
` upon her head and her heels, with her body arched in an `
` extraordinary manner. In vain Mary and John tried to administer `
` more brandy. The moments flew. Again the body arched itself in `
` that peculiar fashion. `
` `
` At that moment, Dr. Bauerstein pushed his way authoritatively `
` into the room. For one instant he stopped dead, staring at the `
` figure on the bed, and, at the same instant, Mrs. Inglethorp `
` cried out in a strangled voice, her eyes fixed on the doctor: `
` `
` "Alfred--Alfred----" Then she fell back motionless on the `
` pillows. `
` `
` With a stride, the doctor reached the bed, and seizing her arms `
` worked them energetically, applying what I knew to be artificial `
` respiration. He issued a few short sharp orders to the servants. `
` An imperious wave of his hand drove us all to the door. We `
` watched him, fascinated, though I think we all knew in our hearts `
` that it was too late, and that nothing could be done now. I `
` could see by the expression on his face that he himself had `
` little hope. `
` `
` Finally he abandoned his task, shaking his head gravely. At that `
` moment, we heard footsteps outside, and Dr. Wilkins, Mrs. `
` Inglethorp's own doctor, a portly, fussy little man, came `
` bustling in. `
` `
` In a few words Dr. Bauerstein explained how he had happened to be `
` passing the lodge gates as the car came out, and had run up to `
` the house as fast as he could, whilst the car went on to fetch `
` Dr. Wilkins. With a faint gesture of the hand, he indicated the `
` figure on the bed. `
` `
` "Ve--ry sad. Ve--ry sad," murmured Dr. Wilkins. "Poor dear `
` lady. Always did far too much--far too much--against my advice. `
` I warned her. Her heart was far from strong. 'Take it easy,' I `
` said to her, 'Take--it--easy'. But no--her zeal for good works `
` was too great. Nature rebelled. Na--ture--re--belled." `
` `
` Dr. Bauerstein, I noticed, was watching the local doctor `
` narrowly. He still kept his eyes fixed on him as he spoke. `
` `
` "The convulsions were of a peculiar violence, Dr. Wilkins. I am `
` sorry you were not here in time to witness them. They were `
` quite--tetanic in character." `
` `
` "Ah!" said Dr. Wilkins wisely. `
` `
` "I should like to speak to you in private," said Dr. Bauerstein. `
`
` At this juncture, Mrs. Inglethorp called to Cynthia from the `
` hall, and the girl ran out. `
` `
` "Just carry up my despatch-case, will you, dear? I'm going to `
` bed." `
` `
` The door into the hall was a wide one. I had risen when Cynthia `
` did, John was close by me. There were therefore three witnesses `
` who could swear that Mrs. Inglethorp was carrying her coffee, as `
` yet untasted, in her hand. `
` `
` My evening was utterly and entirely spoilt by the presence of Dr. `
` Bauerstein. It seemed to me the man would never go. He rose at `
` last, however, and I breathed a sigh of relief. `
` `
` "I'll walk down to the village with you," said Mr. Inglethorp. `
` "I must see our agent over those estate accounts." He turned to `
` John. "No one need sit up. I will take the latch-key." `
` `
` `
` `
` CHAPTER III. `
` `
` THE NIGHT OF THE TRAGEDY `
` `
` `
` To make this part of my story clear, I append the following plan `
` of the first floor of Styles. The servants' rooms are reached `
` through the door B. They have no communication with the right `
` wing, where the Inglethorps' rooms were situated. `
` `
` It seemed to be the middle of the night when I was awakened by `
` Lawrence Cavendish. He had a candle in his hand, and the `
` agitation of his face told me at once that something was `
` seriously wrong. `
` `
` "What's the matter?" I asked, sitting up in bed, and trying to `
` collect my scattered thoughts. `
` `
` "We are afraid my mother is very ill. She seems to be having `
` some kind of fit. Unfortunately she has locked herself in." `
` `
` "I'll come at once." `
` `
` I sprang out of bed; and, pulling on a dressing-gown, followed `
` Lawrence along the passage and the gallery to the right wing of `
` the house. `
` `
` John Cavendish joined us, and one or two of the servants were `
` standing round in a state of awe-stricken excitement. Lawrence `
` turned to his brother. `
` `
` "What do you think we had better do?" `
` `
` Never, I thought, had his indecision of character been more `
` apparent. `
` `
` John rattled the handle of Mrs. Inglethorp's door violently, but `
` with no effect. It was obviously locked or bolted on the inside. `
` The whole household was aroused by now. The most alarming sounds `
` were audible from the interior of the room. Clearly something `
` must be done. `
` `
` "Try going through Mr. Inglethorp's room, sir," cried Dorcas. `
` "Oh, the poor mistress!" `
` `
` Suddenly I realized that Alfred Inglethorp was not with us--that `
` he alone had given no sign of his presence. John opened the door `
` of his room. It was pitch dark, but Lawrence was following with `
` the candle, and by its feeble light we saw that the bed had not `
` been slept in, and that there was no sign of the room having been `
` occupied. `
` `
` We went straight to the connecting door. That, too, was locked `
` or bolted on the inside. What was to be done? `
` `
` "Oh, dear, sir," cried Dorcas, wringing her hands, "what ever `
` shall we do?" `
` `
` "We must try and break the door in, I suppose. It'll be a tough `
` job, though. Here, let one of the maids go down and wake Baily `
` and tell him to go for Dr. Wilkins at once. Now then, we'll have `
` a try at the door. Half a moment, though, isn't there a door `
` into Miss Cynthia's rooms?" `
` `
` "Yes, sir, but that's always bolted. It's never been undone." `
` `
` "Well, we might just see." `
` `
` He ran rapidly down the corridor to Cynthia's room. Mary `
` Cavendish was there, shaking the girl--who must have been an `
` unusually sound sleeper--and trying to wake her. `
` `
` In a moment or two he was back. `
` `
` "No good. That's bolted too. We must break in the door. I `
` think this one is a shade less solid than the one in the `
` passage." `
` `
` We strained and heaved together. The framework of the door was `
` solid, and for a long time it resisted our efforts, but at last `
` we felt it give beneath our weight, and finally, with a `
` resounding crash, it was burst open. `
` `
` We stumbled in together, Lawrence still holding his candle. Mrs. `
` Inglethorp was lying on the bed, her whole form agitated by `
` violent convulsions, in one of which she must have overturned the `
` table beside her. As we entered, however, her limbs relaxed, and `
` she fell back upon the pillows. `
` `
` John strode across the room, and lit the gas. Turning to Annie, `
` one of the housemaids, he sent her downstairs to the dining-room `
` for brandy. Then he went across to his mother whilst I unbolted `
` the door that gave on the corridor. `
` `
` I turned to Lawrence, to suggest that I had better leave them now `
` that there was no further need of my services, but the words were `
` frozen on my lips. Never have I seen such a ghastly look on any `
` man's face. He was white as chalk, the candle he held in his `
` shaking hand was sputtering onto the carpet, and his eyes, `
` petrified with terror, or some such kindred emotion, stared `
` fixedly over my head at a point on the further wall. It was as `
` though he had seen something that turned him to stone. I `
` instinctively followed the direction of his eyes, but I could see `
` nothing unusual. The still feebly flickering ashes in the grate, `
` and the row of prim ornaments on the mantelpiece, were surely `
` harmless enough. `
` `
` The violence of Mrs. Inglethorp's attack seemed to be passing. `
` She was able to speak in short gasps. `
` `
` "Better now--very sudden--stupid of me--to lock myself in." `
` `
` A shadow fell on the bed and, looking up, I saw Mary Cavendish `
` standing near the door with her arm around Cynthia. She seemed `
` to be supporting the girl, who looked utterly dazed and unlike `
` herself. Her face was heavily flushed, and she yawned `
` repeatedly. `
` `
` "Poor Cynthia is quite frightened," said Mrs. Cavendish in a low `
` clear voice. She herself, I noticed, was dressed in her white `
` land smock. Then it must be later than I thought. I saw that a `
` faint streak of daylight was showing through the curtains of the `
` windows, and that the clock on the mantelpiece pointed to close `
` upon five o'clock. `
` `
` A strangled cry from the bed startled me. A fresh access of pain `
` seized the unfortunate old lady. The convulsions were of a `
` violence terrible to behold. Everything was confusion. We `
` thronged round her, powerless to help or alleviate. A final `
` convulsion lifted her from the bed, until she appeared to rest `
` upon her head and her heels, with her body arched in an `
` extraordinary manner. In vain Mary and John tried to administer `
` more brandy. The moments flew. Again the body arched itself in `
` that peculiar fashion. `
` `
` At that moment, Dr. Bauerstein pushed his way authoritatively `
` into the room. For one instant he stopped dead, staring at the `
` figure on the bed, and, at the same instant, Mrs. Inglethorp `
` cried out in a strangled voice, her eyes fixed on the doctor: `
` `
` "Alfred--Alfred----" Then she fell back motionless on the `
` pillows. `
` `
` With a stride, the doctor reached the bed, and seizing her arms `
` worked them energetically, applying what I knew to be artificial `
` respiration. He issued a few short sharp orders to the servants. `
` An imperious wave of his hand drove us all to the door. We `
` watched him, fascinated, though I think we all knew in our hearts `
` that it was too late, and that nothing could be done now. I `
` could see by the expression on his face that he himself had `
` little hope. `
` `
` Finally he abandoned his task, shaking his head gravely. At that `
` moment, we heard footsteps outside, and Dr. Wilkins, Mrs. `
` Inglethorp's own doctor, a portly, fussy little man, came `
` bustling in. `
` `
` In a few words Dr. Bauerstein explained how he had happened to be `
` passing the lodge gates as the car came out, and had run up to `
` the house as fast as he could, whilst the car went on to fetch `
` Dr. Wilkins. With a faint gesture of the hand, he indicated the `
` figure on the bed. `
` `
` "Ve--ry sad. Ve--ry sad," murmured Dr. Wilkins. "Poor dear `
` lady. Always did far too much--far too much--against my advice. `
` I warned her. Her heart was far from strong. 'Take it easy,' I `
` said to her, 'Take--it--easy'. But no--her zeal for good works `
` was too great. Nature rebelled. Na--ture--re--belled." `
` `
` Dr. Bauerstein, I noticed, was watching the local doctor `
` narrowly. He still kept his eyes fixed on him as he spoke. `
` `
` "The convulsions were of a peculiar violence, Dr. Wilkins. I am `
` sorry you were not here in time to witness them. They were `
` quite--tetanic in character." `
` `
` "Ah!" said Dr. Wilkins wisely. `
` `
` "I should like to speak to you in private," said Dr. Bauerstein. `
`