The Miller's Dance by Winston Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

pace.'
    ‘I believe this to be an unhealthy climate,' said Mr Pope. 'Much of the putrid fever that is about derives or is spread from the malignancy of the mineral effluvia. When I settled here I certainly had not taken these facts into account.'
    'You are not at present suffering from a putrid fever. You have over-taxed your strength. You must rest more, that is all. Living a quiet and ordered life will help you a great deal.'
    Pope said irritably: 'In what way do you suppose I do not lead an ordered and quiet life? As you must know, I am retired here. I manage my property, look to the education of my daughters, accompany Mrs Pope on social visits. Since ‘I broke my collar-bone two years ago I no longer ride to hounds. I retire to bed sober. I seldom over-eat. I become angry only at the most flagrant disobedience. My life is most placid and well regulated.'
    'Quite so, quite so.' Dwight's eyes flickered towards Mrs Pope and away again. It was not his business to speculate on what the relationship was between them and whether Mr Pope felt himself under an obligation to accommodate his pretty young wife in other ways besides accompanying her, on social visits to their neighbours. 'Well, Mr Pope, I believe your heart to be over-tired, to have been under some strain, and for that the best medicine - better than any I can prescribe - is light exercise with ample rest.'
    Presently he was walking down the stairs with Mrs Pope floating beside him.
    'I'm sorry,' he said, 'if my diagnosis has somewhat upset your husband. I thought not to say more, but came to the conclusion that if I left him unsatisfied he would disregard my advice.'
    'Totally,' said Mrs Pope with a slight smile. 'He can be a very stubborn man—and a difficult patient. But are you sure it is his heart?'
    'One can seldom be sure of anything, Mrs Pope. Medicine is mostly guesswork, which becomes more accurate with practice. I would have thought ...'
    ‘ Yes?'
    'I would have thought the symptoms were completely typical of an anginal condition. But they could also be caused by stone in the gall-bladder; or even by a form of dyspepsia in which the food comes back into the gullet instead of being properly ingested. We can only wait and see.'
    D wight was shown out, as he had been shown in, by Katie Carter. Katie did not exactly tower over Dwight, but seemed to as she handed him his cloak because tall, big women always appear bigger than they really are. Dwight of course knew almost everyone in the district and they knew him. He had first treated Katie for a summer cholera when she was nine and had seen her a couple of times medically since. Katie smiled at him broadly now and dropped his hat, then almost dislodged her cap as she stooped to pick it up. Strange, Dwight thought, that she should be so clumsy where her brother was so deft.
    Strange too that Mr Pope should insist that his indoor staff should be entirely of women. He was like a thin little sultan ruling over a harem. But at the moment, Dwight was sure, the sultan was sick.
     
    III
     
    Dwight had not yet left the grounds when he saw ahead of him a blond-haired man walking up the hill at the far side of the valley in company with a thin gangling youth whose manner of walking on tiptoe was easily identifiable. The first was Stephen Carrington, the second Music Thomas, the oddest or the three odd bachelor brothers who lived next to Jud and Prudie Paynter in Grambler. Music worked part time, or as much time as he was allowed to, as a stable-b oy at Place House. He was good with horses and was paid three shillings a week for his trouble; for the rest he got a midday meal there and that was enough. Stephen had a spade over his shoulder.
    As Dwight came up they both stopped and turned.
    'Good day to you, Stephen, good day, Music. Are you both going my way?'
    'Marning, sur,' said Music. It was actually evening.
    'Dr Enys,' said Stephen. 'Good day to you indeed. You bound for Grambler village?'
    'Near enough.'
    'I'm