The Song of the Siren

Belle was running about the hall, sniffing in corners. She found the place as exciting as Matt obviously did.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.

“It has a lived-in look,” said Matt.

“That’s because it is furnished. Carlotta wouldn’t have the furniture taken away.”

“Carlotta seems to be a very determined young lady.”

“Oh, she is.”

“I should like to meet her. I daresay I shall one day.”

“If you stay here long enough, yes. We visit them and they come here. I’m longing to see Clarissa.”

“I thought her name was Carlotta.”

“That’s my sister. Clarissa is her baby. The dearest little girl in the whole world.”

“All baby girls are that, Damaris.”

“I know, but this one really is,” I sighed. “Carlotta is so lucky.”

“To have this incomparable little girl, you mean?”

“Yes, that and to be Carlotta.”

“Is she so very fortunate?”

“Carlotta has everything that anyone could want. Beauty, a fortune, a husband who loves her ...”

“And ...”

I interrupted. “You were going to say, ‘And Clarissa.’ “

“No, I was going to say and a charming sister who admires her enormously.”

“Everyone admires her.”

We had come up to the minstrels’ gallery and Matt went inside.

“It is rather dark,” he called out. “It’s chilly too. It’s those curtains. They’re beautiful but a bit sombre.”

Belle followed him into the gallery ... and was sniffing round.

I said: “Come and see the rooms upstairs.”

He followed me. We went through the bedrooms and came to the one with the big four-poster bed hung with red velvet curtains. I immediately remembered that I had seen Carlotta there one day lying there talking to herself. I had never forgotten it.

“An interesting room,” said Matt.

“Yes, it’s the biggest of the bedrooms.”

At that moment we heard Belie barking furiously somewhere below.

We found her in the gallery. She was in a state of some excitement. She was staring at the floor and barking as she scratched at the floorboards as though she would tear them up. There was a gap between the boards at that point and she seemed as though she was trying to get at something down there.

Matt knelt and put his eye to the crack.

“It looks as though there is something bright down there. It must have caught her eye.”

He put his hand on Belle’s head and shook it gently. “Come on, you silly old girl.

It’s nothing down there.”

She responded to his caress but would not be put off. She was trying to lift the board with her paw.

Matt stood up.

“Well, it’s an interesting place,” he said. “I’ll agree it has something which Grasslands lacks. But I would say Grasslands is more cosy. Come on, Belle.”

We started down the stairs, Belle following us with some reluctance. We stood in the hall and paused for a while to look up at the roof and as we paused Belle was off.

“She’s gone back to the gallery,” said Matt. “She’s very singleminded, is Belle.

She was my father’s dog once. He used to say that when she gets a notion in her head she doesn’t let go lightly.”

Belle was barking so wildly that we could scarcely hear ourselves speak. We retraced our steps to the gallery.

She was still staring at the crack in the boards and doing her best to lift them.

Matt said: “In a moment she’ll rip that board up.”

He knelt down: “What’s the matter, old girl? What is it you want down there?”

Now she was barking with wild enthusiasm. She had captured his interest and she was not going to let it go until she had whatever it was she wanted down there.

Matt looked at me.

”I could lift up the board,” he said. “There shouldn’t really be this gap. It does need repairing.”

I said: “Lift it up. We can get one of the men to come and put it right. I don’t think the girls come to this gallery very much. They are all terrified of it.”

“Oh, it is the haunted room, isn’t it? Strange that Belle has selected it for her attention. They do say that dogs have an extra sense.”

“Matt,” I said, “do you think we are about to stumble on some great discovery?”

“No,” he said, “this is just Belle’s obsession. She can see something down there and she is not going to be satisfied until she gets it. And I’ll tell you something, Damaris, I’m getting rather curious myself.”

“So am I.”

“Well, shall I see what I can do with that floorboard?”

I nodded.

“Right. With your permission I will lift it up. It does need repairing in any case.”

Belle was growing wildly excited when Matt began to lift the board.

It creaked; there was a shower of wood dust at that part where it touched the wainscot.

“Oh, yes,” said Matt. “It needs replacing. Well, here goes.”

The board came up and we were looking down onto the dust of ages; and there, lying in it, was the object which had attracted Belle. It was a buckle which looked as though it might have come from a man’s shoe.

Belle was making strange sounds of excitement-half whimpering, half whining, punctuated with sharp barks.

“Nothing much to get so excited about, old girl,” said Matt.

“It could be silver,” I said. “Must have been lying here for years.”

“It could have slipped through the gap in the boards, I suppose. There’s room.”

“It must have done.”