Five Little Pigs

So it may be that in Amyas Crale there ran a strain of morbid self-accusation, and that the more he blustered out his egoism and his right to do as he pleased, the more strongly that secret conscience of his worked. It is improbable, on the face of it, but I now believe that it must have been so. And I repeat again, Caroline herself held steadfastly to that view. That, I repeat, is significant!

And now to examinefacts, or rather my memory of facts, in the light of that new belief.

I think that I might with relevance include here a conversation I held with Caroline some weeks before the actual tragedy. It was during Elsa Greer’s first visit to Alderbury.

Caroline, as I have told you, was aware of my deep affection and friendship for her. I was, therefore, the person in whom she could most easily confide. She had not been looking very happy. Nevertheless I was surprised when she suddenly asked me one day whether I thought Amyas really cared very much for this girl he had brought down.

I said: ‘He’s interested in painting her. You know what Amyas is.’

She shook her head and said:

‘No, he’s in love with her.’

‘Well-perhaps a little.’

‘A great deal, I think.’

I said: ‘She is unusually attractive, I admit. And we both know that Amyas is susceptible. But you must know by now, my dear, that Amyas really only cares for one person-and that is you. He has these infatuations-but they don’t last. You are the one person to him, and though he behaves badly, it does not really affect his feeling for you.’

Caroline said: ‘That is what I always used to think.’

‘Believe me, Caro,’ I said. ‘It is so.’

She said: ‘But this time, Merry, I’m afraid. That girl is so-so terribly sincere. She’s so young-and so intense. I’ve a feeling that this time-it’s serious.’

I said: ‘But the very fact that she is so young and, as you say, so sincere, will protect her. On the whole, women are fair game to Amyas, but in the case of a girl like this it will be different.’

She said: ‘Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of-it will be different.’

And she went on. ‘I’m thirty-four, you know, Merry. And we’ve been married ten years. In looks I can’t hold a candle to this Elsa child, and I know it.’

I said: ‘But you know, Caroline, youknow -that Amyas is really devoted to you?’

She said to that: ‘Does one ever know with men?’ And then she laughed a little ruefully and said: ‘I’m a very primitive woman, Merry. I’d like to take a hatchet to that girl.’

I told her that the child probably didn’t understand in the least what she was doing. She had a great admiration and hero-worship for Amyas, and she probably didn’t realize at all that Amyas was falling in love with her.

Caroline just said to me:

‘Dear Merry!’ and began to talk about the garden. I hoped that she was not going to worry any more about the matter.

Shortly afterwards, Elsa went back to London. Amyas was away too for several weeks. I had really forgotten all about the business. And then I heard that Elsa was back again at Alderbury in order that Amyas might finish the picture.

I was a little disturbed by the news. But Caroline, when I saw her, was not in a communicative mood. She seemed quite her usual self-not worried or upset in any way. I imagined that everything was all right.

That’s why it was such a shock to me to learn how far the thing had gone.

I have told you of my conversations with Crale and with Elsa. I had no opportunity of talking to Caroline. We were only able to exchange those few words about which I have already told you.

I can see her face now, the wide dark eyes and the restrained emotion. I can still hear her voice as she said:

‘Everything’s finished…’

I can’t describe to you the infinite desolation she conveyed in those words. They were a literal statement of truth. With Amyas’s defection, everything was finished for her. That, I am convinced, was why she took the conune. It was a way out. A way suggested to her by my stupid dissertation on the drug. And the passage I read from the Ph?do gives a gracious picture of death.

Here is my present belief. She took the coniine, resolved to end her own life when Amyas left her. He may have seen her take it-or he may have discovered that she had it later.

That discovery acted upon him with terrific force. He was horrified at what his actions had led her to contemplate. But notwithstanding his horror and remorse, he still felt himself incapable of giving up Elsa. I can understand that. Any one who had fallen in love with her would find it almost impossible to tear himself away.

Hecould not envisage life without Elsa. He realized that Caroline could not live withouthim. He decided there was only one way out-to use the coniine himself.