Chapters 19-21 | Rebecca | Bedtime Story

Relax and unwind as you continue listening to Chapters 19-21 of Rebecca, a 1938 Gothic novel written by English author Daphne du Maurier. Widely considered a classic, it is a psychological thriller about a young woman who becomes obsessed with her husband’s first wife.

Transcript

Chapter 19 It was Maxim.

I could not see him,

But I could hear his voice.

He was shouting for Frith as he ran.

I heard Frith answer from the hall and come out on the terrace.

There figures loomed out of the mist beneath us.

She's ashore,

All right,

" said Maxim.

I was watching her from the headland,

And I saw her come right into the bay and head for the reef.

They'll never shift her,

Not with these tides.

She must have mistaken the bay for Carroth Harbor.

It's like a wall out there,

In the bay.

Tell them in the house to stand by with food and drink,

In case these fellows want anything,

And ring through to the office to Mr.

Crawley and tell him what's happened.

I'm going back to the cove to see if I can do anything.

Give me some cigarettes,

Will you?

Mrs.

Danvers drew back from the window.

Her face was expressionless once more,

The cold white mask that I knew.

We had better go down,

She said.

Frith will be looking for me to make arrangements.

Mr.

DeWinter may bring the men back to the house,

As he said.

Be careful of your hands.

I'm going to shut the window.

I stepped back into the room,

Still dazed and stupid,

Not sure of myself or of her.

I watched her close the window and fasten the shutters and draw the curtains in their place.

It's a good thing there is no sea running,

She said.

There wouldn't have been much chance for them then.

But on a day like this,

There's no danger.

The owners will lose their ship,

Though,

If she's run on the reef,

As Mr.

DeWinter said.

She glanced around the room to make certain that nothing was disarranged or out of place.

She straightened the cover on the double bed.

Then she went to the door and held it open for me.

I will tell them in the kitchen to serve cold lunch in the dining room after all,

She said.

And then it won't matter what time you come for it.

Mr.

DeWinter may not want to rush back at one o'clock if he's busy down there in the cove.

I stared at her blankly and then passed out of the open door,

Stiff and wooden like a dummy.

When you see Mr.

DeWinter,

Madam,

Will you tell him it will be quite all right if he wants to bring the men back from the ship?

There will be a hot meal ready for them any time.

Yes,

I said.

Yes,

Mrs.

Danvers.

She turned her back on me and went along the corridor to the service staircase.

A weird gaunt figure in her black dress.

The skirt just sweeping the ground like the full wide skirts of 30 years ago.

Then she turned the corner of the corridor and disappeared.

I walked slowly along the passage to the door by the archway.

My mind still blunt and slow as though I had just woken from a long sleep.

I pushed through the door and went down the stairs with no set purpose before me.

Frith was crossing the hall towards the dining room.

When he saw me,

He stopped and waited until I came down into the hall.

Mr.

DeWinter was in a few moments ago,

Madam,

He said.

He took some cigarettes and then went back again to the beach.

It appears there is a ship gone ashore.

Yes,

I said.

Did you hear the rockets,

Madam?

Yes,

I heard the rockets,

I said.

I was in the pantry with Robert and we both thought at first that one of the gardeners had let off a firework left over from last night,

Said Frith.

And I said to Robert,

What do they want to do that for in this weather?

Why don't they keep them for the kitties on Saturday night?

And then the next one came and then the third.

That's not fireworks,

Says Robert.

That's a ship in distress.

I believe you're right,

I had said.

And I went out to the hall and there was Mr.

DeWinter calling me from the terrace.

Yes,

I said.

Well,

It's hardly to be wondered at in this fog,

Madam.

That's what I said to Robert just now.

It's difficult to find your way on the road,

Let alone on the water.

Yes,

I said.

If you want to catch Mr.

DeWinter,

He went straight across the lawn only two minutes ago.

Thank you,

Frith,

I said.

I went out on the terrace.

I could see the trees taking shape beyond the lawns.

The fog was lifting.

It was rising in little clouds to the sky above.

It whirled above my head and wreaths of smoke.

I looked up at the windows above my head.

They were tightly closed and the shutters were fastened.

They looked as though they would never open,

Never be thrown wide.

It was by the large window in the center that I had stood five minutes before.

How high it seemed above my head,

How lofty and remote.

The stones were hard and solid under my feet.

I looked down at my feet and then up again to the shuttered window.

And as I did so,

I became aware suddenly that my head was swimming and I felt hot.

A little trickle of perspiration ran down the back of my neck.

Black dots jumped about in the air in front of me.

I went into the hall again and sat down on a chair.

My hands were quite wet.

I sat very still,

Holding my knees.

Frith,

I called.

Frith,

Are you in the dining room?

Yes,

Madam.

He came out at once and crossed the hall towards me.

Don't think me very odd,

Frith,

But I rather think I'd like a small glass of brandy.

Certainly,

Madam.

I went on holding my knees and sitting very still.

He came back with a liqueur glass on a silver salver.

Do you feel a trifle unwell,

Madam?

Said Frith.

Would you like me to call Clarice?

No,

I'll be all right,

Frith,

I said.

I felt a bit hot,

That's all.

It's a very warm morning,

Madam.

Very warm indeed.

Oppressive,

One might almost say.

Yes,

Frith.

Very oppressive.

I drank the brandy and put the glass back on the silver salver.

Perhaps the sound of those rockets alarmed you,

Said Frith.

They went off so very sudden.

Yes,

They did,

I said.

And what with the hot morning and standing about all last night?

You are not perhaps feeling quite like yourself,

Madam,

Said Frith.

No,

Perhaps not,

I said.

Will you lie down for half an hour?

It's quite cool in the library.

No,

No,

I think I'll go out in a moment or two.

Don't bother,

Frith.

No,

Very good,

Madam.

He went away and left me alone in the hall.

It was quiet sitting there,

Quiet and cool.

All trace of the party had been cleared away.

It might never have happened.

The hall was as it had always been,

Grey and silent and austere,

With the portraits and the weapons on the wall.

I could scarcely believe that last night I had stood there in my blue dress at the bottom of the stairs,

Shaking hands with five hundred people.

I could not believe that there had been music stands in the minstrel's gallery and a band playing there,

A man with a fiddle,

A man with a drum.

I got up and went out onto the terrace again.

The fog was rising,

Lifting to the tops of the trees.

I could see the woods at the end of the lawns.

Above my head,

A pale sun tried to penetrate the heavy sky.

It was hotter than ever,

Oppressive,

As Frith had said.

A bee hummed by me in search of scent,

Bumbling,

Noisy,

And then creeping inside a flower was suddenly silent.

On the grass banks above the lawns,

The gardener started his mowing machine.

A startled linnet fled from the whirring blades towards the rose garden.

The gardener bent to the handles of the machine and walked slowly along the bank,

Scattering the short-tipped grass and the pinpoint daisy heads.

The smell of the sweet,

Warm grass came towards me on the air,

And the sun shone down upon me full and strong from out of the white mist.

I whistled for Jasper,

But he did not come.

Perhaps he had followed Maxim when he went down to the beach.

I glanced at my watch.

It was half past twelve,

Nearly twenty to one.

This time yesterday,

Maxim and I were standing with Frank in the little garden in front of his house,

Waiting for his housekeeper to serve lunch.

Twenty-four hours ago,

They were teasing me,

Baiting me about my dress.

You'll both get the surprise of your lives,

I had said.

I felt sick with shame at the memory of my words.

And then I realized,

For the first time,

That Maxim had not gone away,

As I had feared.

The voice I had heard on the terrace was calm and practical.

The voice I knew.

Not the voice of last night,

When I stood at the head of the stairs.

Maxim had not gone away.

He was down there in the cove somewhere.

He was himself,

Normal and sane.

He had just been for a walk,

As Frank had said.

He had been on the headland.

He had seen the ship closing in towards the shore.

All my fears were without foundation.

Maxim was safe.

Maxim was alright.

I had just experienced something that was degrading and horrible and mad.

Something that I did not fully understand,

Even now.

That I had no wish to remember.

That I wanted to bury,

Forever,

More deep in the shadows of my mind,

With old forgotten terrors of childhood.

But even this did not matter,

As long as Maxim was alright.

Then I,

Too,

Went down the steep,

Twisting path,

Through the dark woods,

To the beach below.

The fog had almost gone,

And when I came to the cove,

I could see the ship at once,

Lying about two miles offshore,

With her bows pointed towards the cliffs.

I went along the breakwater and stood at the end of it,

Leaning against a rounded wall.

There was a crowd of people on the cliffs already,

Who must have walked along the coastguard path from Kareth.

The cliff and the headland were part of Manderley,

But the public had always used the right-of-way along the cliffs.

Some of them were scrambling down the cliff face to get a closer view of the stranded ship.

She lay at an awkward angle,

Her stern tilted,

And there were a number of rowing boats already pulling round her.

The lifeboat was standing off.

I saw someone stand up in her and shout through a megaphone.

I could not hear what he was saying.

It was still misty out in the bay,

And I could not see the horizon.

Another motorboat chugged into the light with some men aboard.

The motorboat was dark grey.

I could see someone in uniform.

That would be the harbormaster from Kareth and the Lloyds agent with him.

Another motorboat followed,

A party of holidaymakers from Kareth aboard.

They circled round and round the stranded steamer,

Chatting excitedly.

I could hear their voices echoing across the still water.

I left the breakwater and the cove and climbed up the path over the cliffs towards the rest of the people.

I did not see Maxim anywhere.

Frank was there,

Talking to one of the coastguards.

I hung back when I saw him,

Momentarily embarrassed.

Barely an hour ago I had been crying to him,

Down the telephone.

I was not sure what I ought to do.

He saw me at once and waved his hand.

I went over to him and the coastguard.

The coastguard knew me.

Come to see the fun,

Mrs.

De Winter?

He said,

Smiling.

I'm afraid it will be a hard job.

The tugs may shift her,

But I doubt it.

She's hard and fast where she is on that ledge.

What will they do?

I said.

They'll send a diver down directly to see if she's broken her back.

He replied.

There's a fellow there in the red stocking cap.

Like to see,

Through these glasses?

I took his glasses and looked at the ship.

I could see a group of men staring over her stern.

One of them was pointing at something.

The man in the lifeboat was still shouting,

Through the megaphone.

The harbormaster from Kerith had joined the group of men in the stern of the stranded ship.

The diver in his stocking cap was sitting in the grey motorboat belonging to the harbormaster.

The pleasure boat was still circling around the ship.

A woman was standing up,

Taking a snapshot.

A group of gulls had settled on the water and were crying foolishly,

Hoping for scraps.

I gave the glasses back to the coastguard.

Nothing seems to be happening,

I said.

They'll send him down directly,

Said the coastguard.

They'll argue a bit first,

Like all foreigners.

Here come the tugs.

They'll never do it,

Said Frank.

Look at that angle she's lying at.

It's much shallower there than I thought.

That reef runs out quite a way,

Said the coastguard.

You don't notice it in the ordinary way,

Going over that piece of water in a small boat.

But a ship with her depth would touch all right.

I was down in the first cove,

By the valley,

When they fired the rockets,

Said Frank.

I could scarcely see three yards in front of me where I was,

And then the things went off out of the blue.

I thought how alike people were in a moment of common interest.

Frank was Frith all over again,

Giving his version of the story as though it mattered,

As though he cared.

I knew that he had gone down to the beach to look for Maxim.

I knew that he had been frightened,

As I had been.

And now,

All this was forgotten and put aside.

Our conversation down the telephone.

Our mutual anxiety.

His insistence that he must see me.

All because a ship had gone ashore in the fog.

A small boy came running up to us.

Will the sailors be drowned?

He asked.

Not them.

They're all right,

Sonny,

Said the Coast Guard.

The sea's as flat as the back of my hand.

No one's going to be hurt this time.

If it happened last night,

We should never have heard them,

Said Frank.

We must have let off more than 50 rockets at our show,

Beside all the smaller things.

We'd have heard it all right,

Said the Coast Guard.

We'd have seen the flash and known the direction.

There's the diver,

Mrs.

De Winter.

See him putting on his helmet?

I want to see the diver,

Said the small boy.

There he is,

Said Frank,

Bending and pointing.

That chap there,

Putting on the helmet.

They're going to lower him into the water.

Won't he be drowned?

Said the child.

Divers don't drown,

Said the Coast Guard.

They have air pumped into them all the time.

Watch him disappear.

There he goes.

The surface of the water was disturbed a minute,

And then was clear again.

He's gone,

Said the small boy.

Where's Maxim?

I said.

He's taken one of the crew into Kareth,

Said Frank.

The fellow lost his head and jumped for it apparently when the ship struck.

We found him clinging onto one of the rocks here under the cliff.

He was soaked to the skin,

Of course,

And shaking like a jelly.

Couldn't speak a word of English,

Of course.

Maxim went down to him and found him bleeding like a pig from a scratch on the rocks.

He spoke to him in German.

Then he hailed one of the motorboats from Kareth that was hanging around like a hungry shark,

And he's gone off with him to get him bandaged by a doctor.

If he's lucky,

He'll just catch old Phillips sitting down to lunch.

When did he go?

He went just before you turned up,

Said Frank.

About five minutes ago.

I wonder you didn't see the boat.

He was sitting in the stern with this German fellow.

He must have gone while I was climbing up the cliff.

Maxim is splendid at anything like this,

Said Frank.

He always gives a hand if he can.

You'll find he will invite the whole crew back to Manderley and feed them and give them beds into the bargain.

That's right,

Said the Coast Guard.

He'd give the coat off his back for any of his people.

I know that.

I wish there was more like him in the county.

Yes,

We could do with them,

Said Frank.

We went on staring at the ship.

The tugs were standing off still,

But the lifeboat had turned and gone back towards Kareth.

It's not their turn today,

Said the Coast Guard.

No,

Said Frank,

And I don't think it's a job for the tugs either.

It's the shipbreaker who's going to make money this time.

The gulls wailed overhead,

Mewing like hungry cats.

Some of them settled on the ledges of the cliffs,

While others,

Bolder,

Rode the surface of the water beside the ship.

The Coast Guard took off his cap and mopped his forehead.

Seems kind of airless,

Doesn't it?

He said.

Yes.

The pleasure boat with the camera people went chugging off towards Kareth.

They've got fed up,

Said the Coast Guard.

I don't blame them,

Said Frank.

I don't suppose anything will happen for hours.

The diver will have to make his report before they try to shift her.

That's right,

Said the Coast Guard.

I don't think there's much sense in hanging about here,

Said Frank.

We can't do anything.

I want my lunch.

I did not say anything.

He hesitated.

I felt his eyes upon me.

What are you going to do?

He said.

I think I shall stay here a bit,

I said.

I can have lunch anytime.

It's cold.

It doesn't matter.

I want to see what the diver's going to do.

Somehow I could not face Frank just at the moment.

I wanted to be alone or with someone I did not know,

Like the Coast Guard.

You won't see anything,

Said Frank.

There won't be anything to see.

Why not come back and have some lunch with me?

No,

I said.

No,

Really.

Oh,

Well,

Said Frank.

You know where to find me if you do want me.

I shall be at the office all the afternoon.

All right,

I said.

He nodded to the Coast Guard and went off down the cliff towards the cove.

I wondered if I had offended him.

I could not help it.

All these things would be settled someday,

One day.

So much seemed to have happened since I spoke to him on the telephone,

And I did not want to think about anything anymore.

I just wanted to sit there on the cliff and stare at the ship.

He's a good sort,

Mr.

Crawley,

Said the Coast Guard.

Yes.

He'd give his right hand for Mr.

DeWinter,

Too,

He said.

Yes,

I think he would.

The small boy was still hopping around on the grass in front of us.

When's the diver coming up again?

He said.

Not yet,

Sonny,

Said the Coast Guard.

A woman in a pink-striped frock and a hairnet came across the grass towards us.

Charlie,

Charlie,

Where are you?

She called.

Here's your mother,

Coming to give you what for,

Said the Coast Guard.

I've seen the diver,

Mum,

Shouted the boy.

The woman nodded to us and smiled.

She did not know me.

She was a holidaymaker from Carroth.

The excitement all seems to be over,

Doesn't it?

She said.

They are saying down on the cliff there,

The ship will be there for days.

They're waiting for the diver's report,

Said the Coast Guard.

I don't know how they get them to go down under the water like that,

Said the woman.

They had to pay them well.

They do that,

Said the Coast Guard.

I want to be a diver,

Mum,

Said the small boy.

You must ask your daddy,

Dear,

Said the woman,

Laughing at us.

It's a lovely spot up here,

Isn't it?

She said to me.

We brought a picnic lunch,

Never thinking it would turn foggy and we'd have a wreck into the bargain.

We were just thinking of going back to Carroth when the rockets went off under our noses,

It seemed.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Why,

Whatever's that?

I said to my husband.

That's a distress signal,

He said.

Let's stop and see the fun.

There's no dragging him away.

He's as bad as my little boy.

I don't see anything in it myself.

No,

There's not much to see now,

Said the Coast Guard.

Those are nice looking woods over there.

I suppose they're private,

Said the woman.

The Coast Guard coughed awkwardly and glanced at me.

I began eating a piece of grass and looked away.

Yes,

That's all private in there,

He said.

My husband says all these big estates will be chopped up in time and bungalows built,

Said the woman.

I wouldn't mind a nice little bungalow up here facing the sea.

I don't know that I'd care for this part of the world in the winter,

Though.

No,

It's very quiet here winter times,

Said the Coast Guard.

I went on chewing my piece of grass.

The little boy kept running round in circles.

The Coast Guard looked at his watch.

Well,

I must be getting on,

He said.

Good afternoon.

He saluted me and turned back along the path towards Kerith.

Come on,

Charlie,

Come and find Daddy,

Said the woman.

She nodded to me in friendly fashion and sauntered off to the edge of the cliff,

The little boy running at her heels.

A thin man in khaki shorts and a striped blazer waved to her.

They sat down by a clump of gorse bushes and the woman began to undo paper packages.

I wished I could lose my identity and join them,

Eat hard-boiled eggs and potted meat sandwiches,

Laugh rather loudly,

Enter their conversation,

And then wander back with them during the afternoon to Kerith and paddle on the beach,

Run races across the stretch of sand,

And so to their lodgings and have shrimps for tea,

Instead of which I must go back alone through the woods to Manderley and wait for Maxim.

And I did not know what we should say to one another,

How he would look at me,

What would be his voice.

I went on sitting there on the cliff.

I was not hungry.

I did not think about lunch.

More people came and wandered over the cliffs to look at the ship.

It made an excitement for the afternoon.

There was nobody I knew.

They were all holidaymakers from Kerith.

The sea was glassy calm.

The gulls no longer wheeled overhead.

They had settled on the water a little distance from the ship.

More pleasure boats appeared during the afternoon.

It must be a field day for Kerith boatmen.

The diver came up and then went down again.

One of the tugs steamed away while the other still stood by.

The harbormaster went back in his grey motorboat,

Taking some men with him,

And the diver who had come to the surface for the second time.

The crew of the ship lent against the side,

Throwing scraps to the gulls,

While visitors and pleasure boats rode slowly round the ship.

Nothing happened at all.

It was dead low water now,

And the ship was heeled at an angle,

The propeller showing clean.

Little ridges of white cloud formed in the western sky,

And the sun became pallid.

It was still very hot.

The woman in the pink striped frock with the little boy got up and wandered off along the path towards Kerith,

The man in the shorts following with the picnic basket.

I glanced at my watch.

It was after three o'clock.

I got up and went down the hill to the cove.

It was quiet and deserted as always.

The shingle was dark and grey.

The water in the little harbour was glassy like a mirror.

My feet made a queer crunching noise as I crossed the shingle.

The ridges of white cloud now covered all the sky above my head,

And the sun was hidden.

When I came to the further side of the cove,

I saw Ben crouching by a little pool,

Between two rocks,

Scraping wrinkles into his hand.

My shadow fell upon the water as I passed,

And he looked up and saw me.

Good day,

He said,

His mouth opening in a grin.

Good afternoon,

I said.

He scrambled to his feet and opened a dirty handkerchief he had filled with wrinkles.

You eat wrinkles,

He said.

I did not want to hurt his feelings.

Thank you,

I said.

He emptied about a dozen wrinkles into my hand,

And I put them in the two pockets of my skirt.

I'm all right with bread and butter,

He said.

You must boil them first.

Yes,

All right,

I said.

He stood there grinning at me.

Seen the steamer?

He said.

Yes,

She's gone ashore,

Hasn't she?

Eh?

He said.

She's gone aground,

I repeated.

I expect she's got a hole in her bottom.

His face went blank and foolish.

Aye,

He said.

She's down there all right.

She'll not come back again.

Perhaps the tugs will get her off when the tide makes,

I said.

He did not answer.

He was staring out towards the stranded ship.

I could see her broadside on from here,

The red underwater section showing against the black of the top sides,

And the single funnel linging rakishly towards the cliffs beyond.

The crews were still leaning over her side,

Feeding the gulls and staring into the water.

The rowing boats were pulling back to Kerith.

She's a Dutchman,

Ain't she?

Said Ben.

I don't know,

I said,

German or Dutch.

She'll break up there,

Where she's to,

He said.

I'm afraid so.

He grinned again and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

She'll break up bit by bit,

He said.

She'll not sink like a stone,

Like the little one.

He chuckled to himself,

Picking his nose.

I did not say anything.

The fishes have eaten her up by now,

Haven't they?

He said.

Who?

He jerked his thumb towards the sea.

Her,

He said,

The other one.

Fishes don't eat steamers,

Ben,

I said.

Eh?

He said.

He stared at me,

Foolish and blank once more.

I must go home now,

I said.

Good afternoon.

I left him and walked towards the path through the woods.

I did not look at the cottage.

I was aware of it on my right hand,

Gray and quiet.

I went straight to the path and up through the trees.

I paused to rest halfway and looking through the trees,

I could still see the stranded ship leaning towards the shore.

The pleasure boats had all gone.

Even the crew had disappeared below.

The ridges of cloud covered the whole sky.

A little wind sprang from nowhere and blew into my face.

A leaf fell onto my hand from the tree above.

I shivered for no reason.

Then the wind went again.

It was hot and sultry as before.

The ship looked desolate there upon her side,

With no one on her decks,

And her thin black funnel pointing to the shore.

The sea was so calm that when it broke upon the shingle in the cove,

It was like a whisper,

Hushed and still.

I turned once more to the steep path through the woods,

My legs reluctant,

My head heavy,

A strange sense of foreboding in my heart.

The house looked very peaceful as I came upon it from the woods and crossed the lawns.

It seemed sheltered and protected,

More beautiful than I had ever seen it.

Standing there,

Looking down upon it from the banks,

I realized,

Perhaps for the first time,

With a funny feeling of bewilderment and pride,

That it was my home.

I belonged there,

And Manderley belonged to me.

The trees in the grass and the flower tubs on the terrace were reflected in the mullioned windows.

A thin column of smoke rose in the air from one of the chimneys.

The new-cut grass on the lawn smelled sweet as hay.

A blackbird was singing on the chestnut tree.

A yellow butterfly winged his foolish way before me to the terrace.

I went into the hall and through to the dining room.

My place was still laid,

But Maxim's had been cleared away.

The cold meat and salad awaited me on the sideboard.

I hesitated and then rang the dining room bell.

Robert came in from behind the screen.

"'Has Mr.

De Winter been in?

' I said.

"'Yes,

Madam,

' said Robert.

"'He came in just after two,

And had a quick lunch,

And then went out again.

"'He asked for you,

And Frith said he thought you must have gone down to see the ship.

"'Did he say when he would be back again?

' I asked.

"'No,

Madam.

' "'Perhaps he went to the beach another way,

' I said.

"'I may have missed him.

' "'Yes,

Madam,

' said Robert.

I looked at the cold meat and the salad.

I felt empty,

But not hungry.

I did not want cold meat now.

"'Will you be taking lunch?

' said Robert.

"'No,

You might bring me some tea,

Robert,

In the library,

' I said.

"'Nothing like cakes or scones,

Just tea and bread and butter.

' "'Yes,

Madam.

' I went and sat on the window seat in the library.

It seemed funny without Jasper.

He must have gone with Maxim.

The old dog lay asleep in her basket.

I picked up the times and turned the pages without reading it.

It was queer this feeling of marking time,

Like sitting in a waiting room at a dentist.

I knew I should never settle to my knitting or to a book.

I was waiting for something to happen,

Something unforeseen.

The horror of my morning and the stranded ship and not having any lunch had all combined to give birth to a latent sense of excitement at the back of my mind that I did not understand.

It was as though I had entered into a new phase of my life and nothing would be quite the same again.

The girl who had dressed for the fancy dress ball the night before had been left behind.

It had all happened a very long time ago.

This self who sat on the window seat was new,

Was different.

Robert brought in my tea and I ate my bread and butter hungrily.

He had brought scones as well and some sandwiches and an angel cake.

He must have thought it derogatory to bring bread and butter alone,

Nor was it manderly routine.

I was glad of the scones and the angel cake.

I remembered I had only had cold tea at half past eleven and no breakfast.

Just after I had drunk my third cup,

Robert came in again.

''Mr.

De Winter is not back yet,

Is he,

Madam?

'' he said.

''No,

'' I said.

''Why,

Does someone want him?

'' ''Yes,

Madam,

'' said Robert.

''It's Captain Searle,

The harbourmaster of Carroth,

On the telephone.

He wants to know if he can come up and see Mr.

De Winter personally.

'' ''I don't know what to say,

'' I said.

''He may not be back for ages.

'' ''No,

Madam.

'' ''You'd better tell him to ring again at five o'clock,

'' I said.

Robert went out of the room and came back again in a few minutes.

''Captain Searle would like to see you if it would be convenient,

Madam,

'' said Robert.

''He says the matter is rather urgent.

'' He tried to get Mr.

Crawley,

But there was no reply.

''Yes,

Of course I must see him if it's urgent,

'' I said.

''Tell him to come along at once if he likes.

Has he got a car?

'' ''Yes,

I believe so,

Madam.

'' Robert went out of the room.

I wondered what I should say to Captain Searle.

His business must be something to do with a stranded ship.

I could not understand what concern it was of Maxim's.

It would have been different if the ship had gone ashore in the cove.

That was Manderley property.

They might have to ask Maxim's permission to blast away rocks or whatever it was that was done to move a ship.

But the open bay and the ledge of the rock under the water did not belong to Maxim.

Captain Searle would waste his time talking to me about it all.

He must have gotten to his car right away after talking to Robert because in less than a quarter of an hour he was shown into the room.

He was still in his uniform as I had seen him through the glasses in the early afternoon.

I got up from the window seat and shook hands with him.

''I'm sorry my husband isn't back yet,

Captain Searle,

'' I said.

''He must have gone down to the cliffs again,

And he went into Carith before that.

I haven't seen him all day.

'' ''Yes,

I heard he'd been to Carith,

But I missed him there,

'' said the captain.

''He must have walked back across the cliffs when I was in my boat,

And I can't get hold of Mr.

Crawley either.

'' ''I'm afraid the ship has disorganized everybody,

'' I said.

''I was out on the cliffs and went without my lunch,

And I know Mr.

Crawley was there earlier on.

What will happen to her?

Will Tugs get her off,

Do you think?

'' Captain Searle made a great circle with his hands.

''There's a hole that deep in her bottom,

'' he said.

''She'll not see Hamburg again,

Never mind the ship.

Her owner and Lloyd's agent will settle that between them.

No,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

It's not the ship that's brought me here.

Indirectly,

Of course,

She's the cause of my coming.

The fact is,

I've got some news for Mr.

DeWinter,

And I hardly know how to break it to him.

'' He looked at me very straight with his bright blue eyes.

''What sort of news,

Captain?

'' He brought a large white handkerchief out of his pocket and blew his nose.

''Well,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

It's not very pleasant for me to tell you either.

The last thing I want to do is to cause distress or pain to you and your husband.

We're all very fond of Mr.

DeWinter and Kareth,

You know,

And the family has always done a lot of good.

It's hard on him and hard on you that we can't just let the past lie quiet,

But I don't see how we can under the circumstances.

'' He paused and put his handkerchief back in his pocket.

He lowered his voice,

Although we were alone in the room.

''We sent the diver down to inspect the ship's bottom,

'' he said,

''and while he was down there,

He made a discovery.

It appears he found the hole in the ship's bottom and was working round to the other side to see what further damage there was when he came across the hole of a little sailing boat lying on her side.

Quite intact and not broken up at all.

He's a local man,

Of course,

And he recognized the boat at once.

It was the little boat belonging to the late Mrs.

DeWinter.

'' My first feeling was one of thankfulness that Maxim was not there to hear.

This fresh blow coming swiftly upon my masquerade of the night before was ironic and rather horrible.

''I'm so sorry,

'' I said slowly.

''It's not the sort of thing one expected would happen.

Is it necessary to tell Mr.

DeWinter?

Couldn't the boat be left there as it is?

It's not doing any harm,

Is it?

'' ''It would be left,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

In the ordinary way.

I'm the last man in the world to want to disturb it,

And I'd give anything,

As I said before,

To spare Mr.

DeWinter's feelings.

But that wasn't all,

Mrs.

DeWinter.

My man poked around the little boat,

And he made another,

More important discovery.

The cabin door was tightly closed.

It was not stove-in,

And the port lights were closed too.

He broke one of the ports with a stone from the seabed and looked into the cabin.

It was full of water.

The sea must have come through some hole in the bottom.

There seemed no damage elsewhere.

And then he got the fright of his life,

Mrs.

DeWinter.

'' Captain Searle paused.

He looked over his shoulder as though one of the servants might hear him.

''There was a body in there,

Lying on the cabin floor.

'' He said quietly.

''It was dissolved,

Of course.

There was no flesh on it,

But it was a body all right.

He saw the head and the limbs.

He came up to the surface then and reported it direct to me.

And now you understand,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

Why I've got to see your husband.

'' I stared at him,

Bewildered at first,

Then shocked,

Then rather sick.

''She was supposed to be sailing alone,

'' I whispered.

''There must have been someone with her then,

All the time,

And no one ever knew?

'' ''It looks like it,

'' said the captain.

''Who could it have been?

'' I said.

Surely relatives would know if anyone had been missing.

There was so much about it at the time.

It was all in the papers.

''Why should one of them be in the cabin,

And Mrs.

DeWinter herself be picked up many miles away,

Months afterwards?

'' Captain Searle shook his head.

''I can't tell any more than you,

'' he said.

''All we know is that the body is there,

And it has got to be reported.

There'll be publicity,

I'm afraid,

Mrs.

DeWinter.

I don't know how we're going to avoid it.

It's very hard on you and Mr.

DeWinter.

Here you are,

Settled down quietly,

Wanting to be happy,

And then this has to happen.

'' I knew now the reason for my sense of foreboding.

It was not the stranded ship that was sinister,

Nor the crying gulls,

Nor the thin black funnel pointing to the shore.

It was the stillness of the black water,

And the unknown things that lay beneath.

It was the diver going down into those cool,

Quiet depths,

And stumbling upon Rebecca's boat and Rebecca's dead companion.

He had touched the boat,

Had looked into the cabin,

And all the while I sat on the cliffs and had not known.

''If only we did not have to tell him,

'' I said.

''If only we could keep the whole thing from him.

'' ''You know I would,

If it were possible,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

'' said the captain.

''But my personal feelings have to go in a matter like this.

I've got to do my duty.

I've got to report that body.

'' He broke off short as the door opened and Maxim came into the room.

''Hello,

'' he said.

''What's happening?

I didn't know you were here,

Captain Searle.

Is anything the matter?

'' I could not stand it any longer.

I went out of the room like the coward I was and shut the door behind me.

I had not even glanced at Maxim's face.

I had the vague impression that he looked tired,

Untidy,

Hatless.

I went and stood in the hall by the front door.

Jasper was drinking noisily from his bowl.

He wagged his tail when he saw me and went on drinking.

Then he loped towards me and stood up,

Pawing at my dress.

I kissed the top of his head and went and sat on the terrace.

The moment of crisis had come and I must face it.

My old fears,

My diffidence,

My shyness,

My hopeless sense of inferiority must be conquered now and thrust aside.

If I fail now,

I should fail forever.

There would never be another chance.

I prayed for courage in a blind,

Despairing way and dug my nails into my hands.

I sat there for five minutes,

Staring at the green lawns and the flower tubs on the terrace.

I heard the sound of a car starting up in the drive.

It must be Captain Searle.

He had broken his news to Maxim and had gone.

I got up from the terrace and went slowly through the hall to the library.

I kept turning over in my pockets the winkles that Ben had given me.

I clutched them tight in my hands.

Maxim was standing by the window.

His back was turned to me.

I waited by the door.

Still he did not turn round.

I took my hands out of my pockets and went and stood beside him.

I reached out for his hand and laid it against my cheek.

He did not say anything.

He went on standing there.

I'm so sorry,

I whispered.

So terribly,

Terribly sorry.

He did not answer.

His hand was icy cold.

I kissed the back of it and then the fingers one by one.

I don't want you to bear this alone,

I said.

I want to share it with you.

I've grown up,

Maxim,

In twenty-four hours.

I'll never be a child again.

He put his arm round me and pulled me to him very close.

My reserve was broken and my shyness too.

I stood there with my face against his shoulder.

You've forgiven me,

Haven't you?

I said.

He spoke to me at last.

Forgiven you,

He said.

What have I got to forgive you for?

Last night,

I said.

You thought I did it on purpose.

Ah,

That,

He said.

I'd forgotten.

I was angry with you,

Wasn't I?

Yes,

I said.

He did not say any more.

He went on holding me close to his shoulder.

Maxim,

I said.

Can't we start all over again?

Can't we begin from today and face things together?

I don't want you to love me.

I won't ask impossible things.

I'll be your friend and your companion,

A sort of boy.

I don't ever want more than that.

He took my face between his hands and looked at me.

For the first time,

I saw how thin his face was.

How lined and drawn.

And there were great shadows beneath his eyes.

How much do you love me?

He said.

I could not answer.

I could only stare back at him.

At his dark,

Tortured eyes.

And his pale,

Drawn face.

It's too late,

My darling,

Too late,

He said.

We've lost our little chance of happiness.

No,

Maxim,

No,

I said.

Yes,

He said.

It's all over now.

The thing has happened.

What thing?

The thing I've always foreseen.

The thing I've dreamt about,

Day after day,

Night after night.

We're not meant for happiness,

You and I.

He sat down on the window seat and I knelt in front of him,

My hands on his shoulders.

What are you trying to tell me?

I said.

He put his hands over mine and looked into my face.

Rebecca has won,

He said.

I stared at him,

My heart beating strangely.

My hands suddenly cold beneath his hands.

Her shadow between us all the time,

He said.

Her damned shadow,

Keeping us from one another.

How could I hold you like this,

My darling?

My little love,

With a fear always in my heart that this would happen.

I remembered her eyes as she looked at me before she died.

I remembered that slow,

Treacherous smile.

She knew this would happen even then.

She knew she would win in the end.

Maxim,

I whispered.

What are you saying?

What are you trying to tell me?

Her boat,

He said.

They found it.

The diver found it this afternoon.

Yes,

I said.

I know.

Captain Searle came to tell me.

You are thinking about the body,

Aren't you?

The body the diver found in the cabin.

Yes,

He said.

It means she was not alone,

I said.

It means there was somebody sailing with Rebecca at the time.

And you have to find out who it is.

That's it,

Isn't it,

Maxim?

No,

He said.

No,

You don't understand.

I want to share this with you,

Darling,

I said.

I want to help you.

There was no one with Rebecca.

She was alone,

He said.

I knelt there,

Watching his face,

Watching his eyes.

It's Rebecca's body lying there on the cabin floor,

He said.

No,

I said.

No.

The woman buried in the crypt is not Rebecca,

He said.

It's the body of some unknown woman,

Unclaimed,

Belonging nowhere.

There never was an accident.

Rebecca was not drowned at all.

I killed her.

I shot Rebecca in the cottage in the cove.

I carried her body to the cabin and took the boat out that night and sunk it there,

Where they found it today.

It's Rebecca who's lying dead there on the cabin floor.

Will you look into my eyes and tell me that you love me now?

Chapter 20 It was very quiet in the library.

The only sound was that of Jasper licking his foot.

He must have cut a thorn in his pads,

For he kept biting and sucking at the skin.

Then I heard the watch on Maxim's wrist ticking close to my ear.

The little normal sounds of every day.

And for no reason,

The stupid proverb of my school days ran through my mind.

Time and tide wait for no man.

The words repeated themselves over and over again.

Time and tide wait for no man.

These were the only sounds then,

The ticking of Maxim's watch and Jasper licking his foot on the floor beside me.

When people suffer a great shock like death or the loss of a limb,

I believe they don't feel it just at first.

If your hand is taken from you,

You don't know for a few minutes that your hand is gone.

You go on feeling the fingers.

You stretch and beat them on the air,

One by one,

And all the time there is nothing there.

No hand,

No fingers.

I knelt there by Maxim's side,

My body against his body,

My hands upon his shoulders,

And I was aware of no feeling at all.

No pain and no fear.

There was no horror in my heart.

I thought how I must take the thorn out of Jasper's foot,

And I wondered if Robert would come in and clear the tea things.

It seemed strange to me that I should think of these things,

Jasper's foot,

Maxim's watch,

Robert and the tea things.

I was shocked at my lack of emotion and this queer cold absence of distress.

Little by little,

The feeling will come back to me.

I said to myself,

Little by little I shall understand.

What he has told me and all that has happened will tumble into place,

Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

They will fit themselves into a pattern.

At the moment I am nothing.

I have no heart and no mind and no senses.

I am just a wooden thing in Max's arms.

Then he began to kiss me.

He had not kissed me like this before.

I put my hands behind his head and shut my eyes.

I love you so much,

He whispered,

So much.

This is what I have wanted him to say every day and every night,

I thought.

And now he is saying it at last.

This is what I imagined in Monte Carlo,

In Italy,

Here in Manderley.

He is saying it now.

I opened my eyes and looked at a little patch of curtain above his head.

He went on kissing me,

Hungry,

Desperate,

Murmuring my name.

I kept on looking at the patch of curtain and saw where the sun had faded it,

Making it lighter than the piece above.

How calm I am,

I thought.

How cool.

Here I am looking at the piece of curtain and Maxim is kissing me.

For the first time he is telling me he loves me.

Then he stopped suddenly.

He pushed me away from him and got up from the window seat.

You see I was right,

He said.

It's too late.

You don't love me now.

Why should you?

He went and stood over by the mantelpiece.

We'll forget that,

He said.

It won't happen again.

Realization flooded me at once and my heart jumped in quick and sudden panic.

It's not too late,

I said swiftly,

Getting up from the floor and going to him,

Putting my arms about him.

You're not to say that.

You don't understand.

I love you more than anything in the world.

But when you kissed me just now I felt stunned and shaken.

I could not feel anything.

I could not grasp anything.

It was just as though I had no more feeling left in me at all.

You don't love me,

He said.

That's why you did not feel anything.

I know,

I understand.

It's come too late for you,

Hasn't it?

No,

I said.

This ought to have happened four months ago,

He said.

I should have known.

Women are not like men.

I want you to kiss me again,

I said.

Please,

Maxim.

No,

He said.

It's no use now.

We can't lose each other now,

I said.

We've got to be together always,

With no secrets,

No shadows.

Please,

Darling,

Please.

There's no time,

He said.

We may only have a few hours,

A few days.

How can we be together now that this has happened?

I've told you.

They've found the boat.

They've found Rebecca.

I stared at him stupidly,

Not understanding.

What will they do?

I said.

They'll identify her body,

He said.

There's everything to tell them,

There in the cabin.

The clothes she had,

The shoes,

The rings on her fingers.

They'll identify her body.

And then they will remember the other one,

The woman buried up there in the crypt.

What are you going to do?

I whispered.

I don't know,

He said.

I don't know.

The feeling was coming back to me,

Little by little,

As I knew it would.

My hands were cold no longer.

They were clammy,

Warm.

I felt a wave of color come into my face,

My throat.

My cheeks were burning hot.

I thought of Captain Cyril,

The diver,

The Lloyds agent,

All those men on the stranded ship,

Leaning against the side,

Staring down into the water.

I thought of the shopkeepers in Carroth,

Errand boys whistling in the street,

Of the vicar walking out of the church,

Of Lady Crowan cutting roses in her garden,

Of the woman in the pink dress and her little boy on the cliffs.

Soon they would know,

In a few hours,

By breakfast time tomorrow.

They found Mrs.

De Winter's boat,

And they say there is a body in the cabin.

A body in the cabin.

Rebecca was lying there on the cabin floor.

She was not in the crypt at all.

Some other woman was lying in the crypt.

Maxim had killed Rebecca.

Rebecca had not been drowned at all.

Maxim had killed her.

He had shot her in the cottage in the woods.

He had carried her body to the boat and sunk the boat there in the bay.

That gray,

Silent cottage,

With the rain pattering on the roof.

The jigsaw pieces came tumbling,

Thick and fast,

Upon me.

Disjointed pictures flashed,

One by one,

Through my bewildered mind.

Maxim sitting in the car beside me in the south of France,

Saying,

Something happened nearly a year ago that altered my whole life.

I had to begin living all over again.

Maxim's silence.

Maxim's moods.

The way he never talked about Rebecca.

The way he never mentioned her name.

Maxim's dislike of the cove,

The stone cottage.

If you had my memories,

You would never go there either.

The way he climbed the path through the woods,

Not looking behind him.

Maxim pacing up and down the library after Rebecca died.

Up and down,

Up and down.

I came away in rather a hurry,

He said to Mrs.

Van Hopper.

A line,

Thin as gossamer between his brows.

They say he can't get over his wife's death.

The fancy dress dance last night,

And I coming down to the head of the stairs in Rebecca's dress.

I killed Rebecca,

Maxim had said.

I shot Rebecca in the cottage in the woods.

And the diver had found her lying there on the cabin floor.

What are we going to do?

I said.

What are we going to say?

Maxim did not answer.

He stood there by the mantelpiece,

His eyes wide and staring.

Looking in front of him,

Not seeing anything.

Does anyone know?

I said.

Anyone at all?

He shook his head.

No,

He said.

No one but you and me?

I asked.

No one but you and me,

He said.

Frank,

I said suddenly.

Are you sure Frank does not know?

How could he?

Said Maxim.

There was nobody there but myself.

It was dark.

He stopped.

He sat down on a chair.

He put his hand up to his forehead.

I went and knelt beside him.

He sat very still a moment.

I took his hands away from his face and looked into his eyes.

I love you,

I whispered.

I love you.

Will you believe me now?

He kissed my face and my hands.

He held my hands very tightly like a child who would gain confidence.

I thought I should go mad,

He said.

Sitting here,

Day after day,

Waiting for something to happen.

Sitting down at the desk there,

Answering those terrible letters of sympathy.

The notices in the paper.

The interviews.

All the little aftermath of death.

Eating and drinking.

Trying to be normal.

Trying to be sane.

Frith,

The servants.

Mrs.

Danvers.

Mrs.

Danvers,

Who had not the courage to turn away.

Because with her knowledge of Rebecca,

She might have suspected.

She might have guessed.

Frank,

Always by my side.

Discreet.

Sympathetic.

Why don't you get away,

He used to say.

I can manage here.

You ought to get away.

And Giles and Bea.

Poor,

Dear,

Tactless Bea.

You're looking frightfully ill.

Can't you go and see a doctor?

I had to face them all.

These people.

Knowing every word I uttered was a lie.

I went on holding his hands very tight.

I leant close to him.

Quite close.

I nearly told you once,

He said.

That day Jasper ran to the cove,

And you went to the cottage for some straying.

We were sitting here,

Like this.

And then Frith and Robert came in with the tea.

Yes,

I said.

I remember.

Why didn't you tell me?

The time we've wasted when we might have been together.

All these weeks and days.

You were so aloof,

He said.

Always wandering into the garden with Jasper.

Going off on your own.

You never came to me like this.

Why didn't you tell me?

I thought you were unhappy.

Bored,

He said.

I'm so much older than you.

You seem to have more to say to Frank than you ever had to me.

You were funny with me.

Awkward.

Shy.

How could I come to you when I knew you were thinking about Rebecca,

I said.

How could I ask you to love me when I knew you loved Rebecca still?

He pulled me close to him and searched my eyes.

What are you talking about?

What do you mean?

He said.

I knelt up straight beside him.

Whenever you touched me,

I thought you were comparing me to Rebecca,

I said.

Whenever you spoke to me or looked at me,

Walked with me in the garden,

Sat down to dinner,

I felt you were saying to yourself,

This I did with Rebecca and this and this.

He stared at me,

Bewildered,

As though he did not understand.

It was true,

Wasn't it?

I asked.

Oh my God,

He said.

He pushed me away.

He got up and began walking up and down the room,

Clasping his hands.

What is it?

What's the matter?

I said.

He whipped around and looked at me as I sat there huddled on the floor.

You thought I loved Rebecca?

He said.

You thought I killed her,

Loving her?

I hated her,

I tell you.

Our marriage was a farce from the very first.

She was vicious,

Damnable,

Rotten through and through.

We never loved each other,

Never had one moment of happiness together.

Rebecca was incapable of love,

Of tenderness,

Of decency.

She was not even normal.

I sat on the floor,

Clasping my knees,

Staring at him.

She was clever,

Of course,

He said,

Damnably clever.

No one would guess meeting her that she was not the kindest,

Most generous,

Most gifted person in the world.

She knew exactly what to say to different people,

How to match her mood to theirs.

Had she met you,

She would have walked off into the garden with you,

Arm in arm,

Calling to Jasper,

Chatting about flowers,

Music,

Painting,

Whatever she knew to be your particular hobby,

And you would have been taken in like the rest.

You would have sat at her feet and worshipped her.

Up and down he walked,

Up and down across the library floor.

When I married her,

I was told I was the luckiest man in the world,

He said.

She was so lovely,

So accomplished,

So amusing.

Even Gran,

The most difficult person to please in those days,

Adored her from the first.

She's got the three things that matter in a wife,

She told me,

Breeding,

Brains,

And beauty.

And I believed her,

Or forced myself to believe her,

But all the time I had a seed of doubt at the back of my mind.

There was something about her eyes.

The jigsaw pieces came together piece by piece.

The real Rebecca took shape and form before me,

Stepping from her shadow world like a living figure from a picture frame.

Rebecca slashing at her horse.

Rebecca seizing life with her two hands.

Rebecca triumphant,

Leaning down from the menstrual's gallery with a smile on her lips.

Once more,

I saw myself standing on the beach beside poor,

Startled Ben,

Telling me I was kind and not like the other one,

Asking me not to put him in the asylum.

There was someone who walked through the woods,

By night,

Someone tall and slim.

She gave you the feeling of a snake.

Maxim was talking,

Though.

Maxim was walking up and down the library floor.

I found her out at once,

He was saying,

Five days after we were married.

You remember the time I drove you in the car to the hills above Monte Carlo?

I wanted to stand there again,

To remember.

She sat there,

Laughing,

Her black hair blowing in the wind.

She told me about herself,

Told me things I shall never repeat to a living soul.

I knew then what I had done,

What I had married.

Beauty,

Brains,

And breeding.

Oh,

My God.

He broke off abruptly.

He went and stood by the window,

Looking out upon the lawns.

He began to laugh.

He stood there laughing.

I could not bear it.

It made me frightened,

Ill.

I could not stand it.

Maxim,

I cried,

Maxim.

He lit a cigarette and stood there smoking,

Not saying anything.

Then he turned away again and paced up and down the room once more.

I nearly killed her then,

He said.

It would have been so easy.

One false step,

One slip.

You remember the precipice.

I frightened you,

Didn't I?

You thought I was mad.

Perhaps I was.

Perhaps I am.

It doesn't make for sanity,

Does it,

Living with the devil?

I sat there watching him,

Up and down,

Up and down.

She made a bargain with me up there,

On the side of the precipice,

He said.

I'll run your house for you,

She told me.

I'll look after your precious mandolin for you,

Make it the most famous show place in all the country if you like,

And people will visit us and envy us and talk about us.

They'll say we are the luckiest,

Happiest,

Handsomest couple in all of England.

What a leg pull,

Max,

She had said.

What a triumph.

She sat there on the hillside,

Laughing,

Tearing a flower to bits in her hands.

Maxim threw a cigarette away,

A quarter smoked into the empty grate.

I did not kill her,

He said.

I watched her.

I said nothing.

I let her laugh.

We got into the car together and drove away,

And she knew I would do as she suggested.

Come here to Manderley,

Throw the place open,

Entertain,

Have our marriage spoken of as the success of the century.

She knew I would sacrifice pride,

Honor,

Personal feelings,

Every damned quality on earth,

Rather than stand before our little world after a week of marriage and have them know the things about her that she had told me then.

She knew I would never stand in a divorce court and give her away,

Have fingers pointing at us,

Mud flung at us in the newspapers,

All the people who belong down here whispering when my name was mentioned,

All the trippers from Carroth trooping to the lodge gates,

Peering into the grounds and saying,

That's where he lives in there,

That's Manderley,

That's the place that belonged to the chap who had that divorce case we read about.

Do you remember what the judge said about his wife?

He came and stood before me.

He held out his hands.

You despise me,

Don't you?

He said.

You can't understand my shame and loathing and disgust.

I did not say anything.

I held his hands against my heart.

I did not care about his shame.

None of the things that he had told me mattered to me at all.

I clung to one thing only and repeated it to myself over and over again.

Maxim did not love Rebecca.

He had never loved her.

Never.

They had never known one moment's happiness together.

Maxim was talking and I listened to him,

But his words meant nothing to me.

I did not really care.

I thought about Manderley too much,

He said.

I put Manderley first before anything else.

And it does not prosper,

That sort of love.

They don't preach about it in the churches.

Christ said nothing about stones and bricks and walls.

The love that a man can bear for his plot of earth,

His soil,

His little kingdom,

It does not come into the Christian creed.

My darling,

I said.

My Maxim,

My love.

I laid his hands against my face.

I put my lips against them.

Do you understand?

He said.

Do you?

Do you?

Yes,

I said.

My sweet,

My love.

But I looked away from him so he should not see my face.

What did it matter whether I understood him or not?

My heart was like a feather floating in the air.

He had never loved Rebecca.

I don't want to look back on those years,

He said slowly.

I don't want even to tell you about them,

The shame and the degradation,

The lie we lived,

She and I,

The shabby,

Sordid farce we played together before friends,

Before relations,

Even before the servants,

Before faithful,

Trusting creatures like old Frith.

They all believed in her down here.

They all admired her.

They never knew how she laughed at them behind their backs,

Jeered at them,

Mimicked them.

I can remember days when the place was full for some show or other,

A garden party,

A pageant,

And she walked about with a smile like an angel on her face,

Her arm through mine,

Giving prizes afterwards to a little troop of children.

And then the day afterwards,

She would be up at dawn driving to London,

Streaking to that flat of hers by the river like an animal to its hole in the ditch,

Coming back here at the end of the week after five unspeakable days.

Oh,

I kept to my side of the bargain all right.

I never gave her away.

Her blasted taste made Manderley the thing it is today.

The gardens,

The shrubs,

Even the azaleas in the Happy Valley.

Do you think they existed when my father was alive?

God,

The place was a wilderness.

Lovely,

Yes,

Wild and lonely with a beauty of its own.

Yes,

But crying out for skill and care and the money that he would never give to it,

That I would not have thought of giving to it,

But for Rebecca.

Half the stuff you see here in the rooms were never here originally.

The drawing room as it is today,

The morning room,

That's all Rebecca.

Those chairs that Frith points out so proudly to the visitors on the public day,

And that panel of tapestry,

Rebecca again.

Oh,

Some of the things were here,

Admittedly,

Stored away in back rooms.

My father knew nothing about furniture or pictures,

But the majority was bought by Rebecca.

The beauty of Manderley that you see today,

The Manderley that people talk about and photograph and paint,

It's all due to her,

To Rebecca.

I did not say anything.

I held him close.

I wanted him to go on talking like this,

That his bitterness might loosen and come away,

Carrying with it all the pent-up hatred and disgust and muck of the lost years.

And so we lived,

He said,

Month after month,

Year after year.

I accepted everything because of Manderley.

What she did in London did not touch me because it did not hurt Manderley.

And she was careful those first years.

There was never a murmur about her,

Never a whisper.

Then little by little,

She began to grow careless.

You know how a man starts drinking.

He goes easy at first,

Just a little at a time,

A bad bout,

Perhaps,

Every five months or so.

And then the period between grows less and less.

Soon it's every month,

Every fortnight,

Every few days.

There's no margin of safety left and all his secret cunning goes.

It was like that with Rebecca.

She began to ask her friends down here.

She would have one or two of them and mix them up at a weekend party so that at first I was not quite sure,

Not quite certain.

She would have picnics down at her cottage in the cove.

I came back once,

Having been away shooting in Scotland,

And found her there with half a dozen of them,

People I had never seen before.

I warned her and she shrugged her shoulders.

What the hell's it got to do with you?

She had said.

I told her she could see her friends in London,

But Manderley was mine.

She must stick to that part of the bargain.

She smiled.

She did not say anything.

Then she started on Frank,

Poor,

Shy,

Faithful Frank.

He came to me one day and said he wanted to leave Manderley and take another job.

We argued for two hours here in the library,

And then I understood.

He broke down and told me.

She never left him alone,

He said.

She was always going down to his house,

Trying to get him to the cottage.

Dear,

Wretched Frank,

Who had not understood,

Who had always thought we were the normal,

Happy,

Married couple we pretended to be.

I accused Rebecca of this,

And she flared up at once,

Cursing me,

Using every filthy word in her particular vocabulary.

We had a sickening,

Loathsome scene.

She went up to London after that and stayed there for a month.

When she came back again,

She was quiet at first.

I thought she had learnt her lesson.

Bea and Giles came for a weekend,

And I realized then,

What I had sometimes suspected before,

That Bea did not like Rebecca.

I believe,

In her funny,

Abrupt,

Downright way,

She saw through her,

Guessed something was wrong.

It was a tricky,

Nervy sort of weekend.

Giles went out sailing with Rebecca.

Bea and I lazed on the lawn,

And when they came back,

I could tell by Giles's rather hearty,

Jovial manner,

And by a look in Rebecca's eye,

That she had started on him,

As she had done on Frank.

I saw Bea watching Giles at dinner,

Who laughed louder than usual,

Talked a little too much,

And all the while Rebecca,

Sitting there at the head of the table,

Looking like an angel.

They were all fitting into place,

The jigsaw pieces,

The odd strange shapes that I had tried to piece together with my fumbling fingers,

And they had never fitted.

Frank's odd manner when I spoke about Rebecca,

Patrice,

And her rather diffident,

Negative attitude.

The silence,

That I had always taken for sympathy and regret,

Was a silence born of shame and embarrassment.

It seemed incredible to me now,

That I had never understood.

I wondered how many people there were in the world,

Who suffered,

And continue to suffer,

Because they cannot break out from their own web of shyness and reserve,

And in their blindness and folly,

Built up a great distorted wall in front of them,

That hid the truth.

This was what I had done.

I had built up false pictures in my mind,

And sat before them.

I had never had the courage to demand the truth.

Had I made one step forward,

Out of my own shyness,

Maxim would have told me these things,

Four months,

Five months ago.

That was the last weekend Bea and Giles ever spent at Manderley,

Said Maxim.

I never asked them alone again.

They came officially to garden parties and dances.

Bea never said a word to me,

Or I to her,

But I think she guessed my life.

I think she knew,

Even as Frank did.

Rebecca grew cunning again.

Her behavior was faultless,

But if I happened to be away when she was here at Manderley,

I could never be certain what might happen.

There had been Frank and Giles.

She might get hold of one of the workmen on the estate,

Someone from Kareth,

Anyone,

And then the bomb would have to fall.

The gossip,

The publicity,

I dreaded.

It seemed to me I stood again by the cottage in the woods,

And I heard the drip-drip of the rain upon the roof.

I saw the dust on the model ships,

The rat holes on the divan.

I saw Ben,

With his poor,

Staring idiot's eyes,

Asking me not to put him in the asylum,

And I thought of the dark,

Steep path through the woods,

And how,

If a woman stood there behind the trees,

Her evening dress would rustle in the thin night breeze.

She had a cousin,

Said Maxim slowly,

A fellow who'd been abroad and was living in England again.

He took to coming here,

If ever I was away.

Frank used to see him,

A fellow called Jack Favell.

I know him,

I said.

He came here the day you went to London.

You saw him too?

Said Maxim.

Why didn't you tell me?

I heard it from Frank,

Who saw his car turn in at the lodge gates.

I did not like to,

I said.

I thought it would remind you of Rebecca.

Remind me,

Whispered Maxim.

Oh God,

As if I needed reminding.

He stared in front of him,

Breaking off from his story,

And I wondered if he was thinking,

As I was,

Of that flooded cabin beneath the waters in the bay.

She used to have this fellow,

Favell,

Down to the cottage,

Said Maxim.

She would tell the servants she was going to sail.

It would not be back before the morning.

Then she would spend the night down there with him.

Once again,

I warned her.

I said,

If I found him here,

Anywhere in the estate,

I'd shoot him.

He had a black,

Filthy record.

The very thought of him walking about the woods in Manderley,

And places like the Happy Valley,

Made me mad.

I told her I would not stand for it.

She shrugged her shoulders.

She forgot to blaspheme me,

And I noticed she was looking paler than usual,

Nervy,

Rather haggard.

I wondered then what the hell would happen to her when she began to look old,

Feel old.

Things drifted on.

Nothing very much happened.

Then one day she went up to London and came back again the same day,

Which she did not do as a rule.

I did not expect her.

I dined that night with Frank at his house.

We had a lot of work on at the time.

He was speaking now in short,

Jerky sentences.

I had his hands very tightly between my two hands.

I came back after dinner,

About half past ten,

And I saw her scarf and gloves lying on a chair in the hall.

I wondered what the devil she had come back for.

I went into the morning room,

But she was not there.

I guess she had gone off there then,

Down to the cove.

And I knew then that I could not stand this life of lies and filth and deceit any longer.

The thing had got to be settled,

One way or another.

I thought I'd take a gun and frighten the fellow,

Frighten them both.

I went down right away to the cottage.

The servants never knew I had come back to the house at all.

I slipped out into the garden and through the woods.

I saw the light in the cottage window,

And I went straight in.

To my surprise,

Rebecca was alone.

She was lying on the divan with an ashtray full of cigarette stubs beside her.

She looked ill,

Queer.

I began at once about Favell,

And she listened to me without a word.

We've lived this life of degradation long enough,

You and I,

I said.

This is the end,

Do you understand?

What you do in London does not concern me.

You can live with Favell there,

Or with anyone you like,

But not here,

Not at Manderley.

She said nothing for a moment.

She stared at me,

And then she smiled.

Suppose it suits me better to live here,

What then?

She said.

You know the conditions,

I had said.

I've kept my part of her dirty,

Damnable bargain,

Haven't I?

But you've cheated.

You think you can treat my house and my home like your own sink in London.

I've stood enough,

But my God,

Rebecca,

This is your last chance.

I remember she squashed out her cigarette in the tub by the divan,

And then she stood up and stretched herself,

Her arms above her head.

You're right,

Max,

She had said.

It's time I turned over a new leaf.

She looked very pale,

Very thin.

She began walking up and down the room,

Her hands in the pockets of her trousers.

She looked like a boy in her sailing kit,

A boy with a face like a Botticelli angel.

Have you ever thought,

She said,

How damned hard it would be for you to make a case against me,

In a court of law,

I mean,

If you wanted to divorce me.

Do you realize that you've never had one shred of proof against me from the very first?

All your friends,

Even the servants,

Believe our marriage to be a success.

What about Frank?

What about Beatrice?

She threw back her head and laughed.

What sort of story could Frank tell against mine?

She had said.

Don't you know me well enough for that?

As for Patrice,

Wouldn't it be the easiest thing in the world for her to stand in a witness box as the ordinary jealous woman whose husband once lost his head and made a fool of himself?

Oh no,

Max,

You'd have a hell of a time trying to prove anything against me.

She stood watching me,

Rocking on her heels,

Her hands in her pockets and a smile on her face.

Do you realize that I could get Danny,

As my personal maid,

To swear anything I asked her to swear in a court of law?

And that the rest of the servants,

In blind ignorance,

Would follow her example and swear too?

They think we live together at Manderley as husband and wife,

Don't they?

And so does everyone your friends,

All our little world.

Well,

How are you going to prove that we don't?

She sat down on the edge of the table,

Swinging her legs,

Watching me.

Haven't we acted the parts of a loving husband and wife rather too well?

I remember watching that foot of hers in its striped sandal,

Swinging backwards and forwards,

And my eyes and my brain began to burn in a strange,

Quick way.

We could make you look very foolish,

Danny and I.

We could make you look so foolish that no one would believe you,

Max.

Nobody at all.

Still that foot of hers,

Swinging to and fro,

That damned foot in its blue and white striped sandal.

Suddenly she slipped off the table and stood in front of me,

Smiling still,

Her hands in her pockets.

If I had a child,

Max,

Neither you nor anyone in the world would ever prove that it was not yours.

It would grow up here in Manderley,

Bearing your name.

There would be nothing you could do.

And when you died,

Manderley would be his.

You could not prevent it.

The properties entailed.

You would like an heir,

Wouldn't you?

For your beloved Manderley.

You would enjoy it,

Wouldn't you?

Seeing my son lying in his pram under the chestnut tree,

Playing leapfrog on the lawn,

Catching butterflies in the Happy Valley.

It would give you the biggest thrill of your life,

Wouldn't it,

Max?

To watch my son grow bigger day by day and to know that when you died,

All this would be his.

She waited a minute,

Rocking on her heels,

And then she lit a cigarette and went and stood by the window.

She began to laugh.

She went on laughing.

I thought she would never stop.

God,

How funny.

How supremely,

Wonderfully funny.

Well,

You heard me say I was going to turn over a new leaf,

Didn't you?

Now you know the reason.

They'll be happy,

Won't they?

All these smug locals,

All your blasted tenants.

It's what we've always hoped for,

Mrs.

DeWinter,

They will say.

I'll be the perfect mother,

Max,

Like I've been the perfect wife.

And none of them will ever guess.

None of them will ever know.

She turned round and faced me,

Smiling,

One hand in her pocket,

The other holding her cigarette.

When I killed her,

She was smiling still.

I fired at her heart.

The bullet passed right through.

She did not fall at once.

She stood there,

Looking at me,

That slow smile on her face,

Her eyes wide open.

Maxim's voice had sunk low,

So low that it was like a whisper.

The hand that I held between my own was cold.

I did not look at him.

I watched Jasper's sleeping body on the carpet beside me,

The little thump of his tail now and then upon the floor.

I'd forgotten,

Said Maxim,

And his voice was slow now,

Tired,

Without expression,

That when you shot a person,

There was so much blood.

There was a hole there on the carpet beneath Jasper's tail,

The burnt hole from a cigarette.

I wondered how long it had been there.

Some people said ash was good for the carpets.

I had to get water from the cove,

Said Maxim.

I had to keep going backwards and forwards to the cove for water.

Even by the fireplace,

Where she had not been,

There was a stain.

It was all round where she lay on the floor.

It began to blow,

Too.

There was no catch on the window.

The wind kept banging backwards and forwards while I knelt there on the floor with that dishcloth and the bucket beside me.

And the rain on the roof,

I thought.

He does not remember the rain on the roof.

It pattered thin and light and very fast.

I carried her out to the boat,

He said.

It must have been half-past eleven by then,

Nearly twelve.

It was quite dark.

There was no moon.

The wind was squally from the west.

I carried her down to the cabin and left her there.

Then I had to get underway with a dinghy astern and beat out of the little harbor against the tide.

The wind was with me,

But it came in puffs,

And I was in the lee there under cover of the headland.

I remember I got the mainsail jammed halfway up the mast.

I had not done it,

You see,

For a long time.

I never went out with Rebecca.

And I thought of the tide,

How swift it ran and strong into the little cove.

The wind blew down from the headland like a funnel.

I got the boat out into the bay.

I got her out there,

Beyond the beacon,

And I tried to go about to clear the ridge of rocks.

The little jib fluttered.

I could not sheet it in.

A puff of wind came and the sheet tore out of my hands,

Went twisting round the mast.

The sail thundered and shook.

It cracked like a whip above my head.

I could not remember what one had to do.

I could not remember.

I tried to reach that sheet and it blew above me in the air.

Another blast of wind came straight ahead.

We began to drift sideways,

Closer to the ridge.

It was dark,

So damn dark I couldn't see anything on the black,

Slippery deck.

Somehow I blundered down into the cabin.

I had a spike with me.

If I didn't do it now,

It would be too late.

We were getting so near to the ridge,

And in six or seven minutes,

Drifting like this,

We should be out of deep water.

I opened the seacocks.

The water began to come in.

I drove the spike into the bottom boards.

One of the planks split right across.

I took the spike out and began to drive in another plank.

The water came up over my feet.

I left Rebecca lying on the floor.

I fastened both the scuttles.

I bolted the door.

When I came up on deck,

I saw we were within twenty yards of the ridge.

I threw some of the loose stuff on the deck into the water.

There was a life buoy,

A pair of sweeps,

A coil of rope.

I climbed into the dinghy.

I pulled away and lay back on the paddles and watched.

The boat was drifting still.

She was sinking too,

Sinking by the head.

The jib was still shaking and cracking like a whip.

I thought someone must hear it.

Someone walking the cliffs late at night.

Some fisherman from Kareth,

Away beyond me in the bay,

Whose boat I could not see.

The boat was smaller,

Like a black shadow on the water.

The mast began to shiver,

Begin to crack.

Suddenly she heeled right over,

As she went the mast broken too,

Split right down the center.

The life buoy and the sweeps floated away from me on the water.

The boat was not there anymore.

I remember staring at the place where she had been.

Then I pulled back to the cove.

It started raining.

Maxim waited.

He stared in front of him still.

Then he looked at me,

Sitting beside him on the floor.

That's all,

He said.

There's no more to tell.

I left the dinghy on the buoy,

As she would have done.

I went back and looked at the cottage.

The floor was wet with the salt water.

She might have done it herself.

I walked up the path through the woods.

I went into the house.

Up the stairs to the dressing room.

I remember undressing.

It began to blow and rain very hard.

I was sitting there on the bed when Mrs.

Danvers knocked on the door.

I went and opened it in my dressing gown and spoke to her.

She was worried about Rebecca.

I told her to go back to bed.

I shut the door again.

I went back and sat by the window in my dressing gown,

Watching the rain,

Listening to the sea as it broke there in the cove.

We sat together without saying anything.

I went on holding his cold hands.

I wondered why Robert did not come to clear the tea.

She sank too close in,

Said Maxim.

I meant to take her right out in the bay.

They would never have found her there.

She was too close in.

It was a ship,

I said.

It would not have happened but for the ship.

No one would have known.

She was too close in,

Said Maxim.

We were silent again.

I began to feel very tired.

I knew it would happen one day,

Said Maxim.

Even when I went up to Edgecombe and identified that body as hers,

I knew it meant nothing,

Nothing at all.

It was only a question of waiting,

Of marking time.

Rebecca would win in the end.

Finding you has not made any difference,

Has it?

Loving you does not alter things at all.

Rebecca knew she would win in the end.

I saw her smile when she died.

Rebecca is dead,

I said.

That's what we've got to remember.

Rebecca is dead.

She can't speak.

She can't bear witness.

She can't harm you anymore.

There's her body,

He said.

The diver has seen it.

It's lying there on the cabin floor.

We've got to explain it,

I said.

We've got to think out a way to explain it.

It's got to be the body of someone you don't know,

Someone you've never seen before.

Her things will be there still,

He said,

The rings on her fingers.

Even if her clothes have rotted in the water,

There will be something there to tell them.

It's not like a body lost at sea,

Battered against rocks.

The cabin is untouched.

She must be lying there on the floor as I left her.

The boat has been there all these months.

No one has moved anything.

There is the boat lying on the seabed where she sank.

A body rots in water,

Doesn't it?

I whispered.

Even if it's lying there undisturbed,

The water rots it,

Doesn't it?

I don't know,

He said.

I don't know.

How will you find out?

How will you know?

The diver is going down again at 5.

30 tomorrow morning,

Said Maxim.

Captain Searle has made all the arrangements.

They are going to try to raise the boat.

No one will be about.

I'm going with them.

He's sending his boat to pick me up in the cove,

5.

30 tomorrow morning.

And then,

I said,

If they get it up,

What then?

Searle's going to have his big lighter anchored there,

Just out in the deep water.

If the boat's wood has not rotted,

If it still holds together,

His crane will be able to lift it.

On to the lighter.

They'll go back to Kerith,

Then.

Searle says he will moor the lighter at the head of that disused creek halfway up Kerith Harbor.

It drives out very easily.

It's mud there at low water,

And the trippers can't row up there.

We shall have the place to ourselves.

He says we'll have to let the water drain out of the boat,

Leaving the cabin bare.

He's going to get hold of a doctor.

What will he do?

I said.

What will the doctor do?

I don't know.

If they find out it's Rebecca,

You must say the other body was a mistake,

I said.

A ghastly mistake.

You must say that when you went to Edgecombe,

You were ill.

You did not know what you were doing.

You were not sure even then.

You could not tell.

It was a mistake.

Just a mistake.

You will say that,

Won't you?

Yes,

He said.

Yes.

They can't prove anything against you,

I said.

Nobody saw you that night.

You had gone to bed.

They can't prove anything.

No one knows but you and I.

No one at all.

Not even Frank.

We are the only two people in the world to know,

Maxim,

You and I.

Yes,

He said.

Yes.

They will think the boat capsized and sank when she was in the cabin,

I said.

They will think she went below for a rope,

For something,

And while she was there,

The wind came from the headland and the boat heeled over and Rebecca was trapped.

They'll think that,

Won't they?

I don't know,

He said.

I don't know.

Suddenly,

The telephone began ringing in the little room behind the library.

Chapter 21 Maxim went into the little room and shut the door.

Robert came in a few minutes afterwards to clear away the tea.

I stood up.

My back turned to him so that he would not see my face.

I wondered when they would begin to know,

On the estate,

In the servants' hall,

And Kareth itself.

I wondered how long it took for news to trickle through.

I could hear the murmur of Maxim's voice in the little room beyond.

I had a sick,

Expectant feeling at the pit of my stomach.

The sound of the telephone ringing seemed to have woken every nerve in my body.

I had sat there on the floor beside Maxim in a sort of dream,

His hand in mine,

My face against his shoulder.

I listened to his story,

And part of me went with him like a shadow in his tracks.

I,

Too,

Had killed Rebecca.

I,

Too,

Had sunk the boat there in the bay.

I had listened beside him to the wind and water.

I had waited for Mrs.

Danvers knocking on the door.

All this I had suffered with him,

All this and more beside.

But the rest of me sat there on the carpet,

Unmoved and detached,

Thinking and caring for one thing only,

Repeating a phrase over and over again.

He did not love Rebecca.

He did not love Rebecca.

Now,

At the ringing of the telephone,

These two selves merged and became one again.

I was the self that I had always been.

I was not changed.

But something new had come upon me that had not before.

My heart,

For all its anxiety and doubt,

Was light and free.

I knew then that I was no longer afraid of Rebecca.

I did not hate her anymore.

Now that I knew her to have been evil and vicious and rotten,

I did not hate her anymore.

She could not hurt me.

I could go to the morning room and sit down at her desk and touch her pin and look at her writing on the pigeonholes,

And I should not mind.

I could go to her room in the West Wing,

Stand by the window even,

As I had done this morning,

And I should not be afraid.

Rebecca's power had dissolved into the air,

Like the mist had done.

She would never haunt me again.

She would never stand behind me on the stairs,

Sit beside me in the dining room,

Lean down from the gallery and watch me standing in the hall.

Maxim had never loved her.

I did not hate her anymore.

Her body had come back.

Her boat had been found,

With its queer,

Prophetic name.

Je reviens.

I am coming back.

But I was free of her forever.

I was free now to be with Maxim,

To touch him and hold him and love him.

I would never be a child again.

It would not be I any longer.

It would be we.

It would be us.

We would be together.

We would face this trouble together,

He and I.

Captain Searle and the diver and Frank and Mrs.

Danvers and Patrice and the men and women of Careth reading their newspapers could not break us now.

Our happiness had not come too late.

I was not young anymore.

I was not shy.

I was not afraid.

I would fight for Maxim.

I would lie and perjure and swear.

I would blasphemy and pray.

Rebecca had not won.

Rebecca had lost.

Robert had taken away the tea and Maxim came back into the room.

It was Colonel Julian,

He said.

He's just been talking to Searle.

He's coming out with us to the boat tomorrow,

Searle has told him.

Why Colonel Julian?

Why?

I said.

He's the magistrate for Careth.

He has to be present.

What did he say?

He asked me if I had any idea whose body it could be.

What did you say?

I said I did not know.

I said we believed Rebecca to be alone.

I said I did not know of any friend.

Did he say anything after that?

Yes.

What did he say?

He asked me if I thought it possible that I made a mistake when I went up to Edgecombe.

He said that?

He said that already?

Yes.

And you?

I said it might be possible.

I did not know.

He'll be with you then tomorrow when you look at the boat.

He and Captain Searle and a doctor.

Inspector Welch too.

Inspector Welch?

Yes.

Why?

Why Inspector Welch?

It's the custom when a body has been found.

I did not say anything.

We stared at one another.

I felt the little pain come again at the pit of my stomach.

They may not be able to raise the boat,

I said.

No.

They couldn't do anything then about the body,

Could they?

I don't know.

He glanced out of the window.

The sky was white and overcast as it had been when I came away from the cliffs.

There was no wind though.

It was still and quiet.

I thought it might blow from the southwest about an hour ago,

But the wind has died away again,

He said.

Yes.

It will be a flat calm tomorrow for the diver,

He said.

The telephone began ringing again from the little room.

There was something sickening about the shrill urgent summons of the bell.

Maxim and I looked at one another.

Then he went into the room to answer it,

Shutting the door behind him as he had done before.

The queer nagging pain had not left me yet.

It returned again in greater force with the ringing of the bell.

The feel of it took me back across the years to my childhood.

This was the pain I had known when I was very small and the maroons had sounded in the streets of London and I had sat shivering,

Not understanding,

Under a little cupboard beneath the stairs.

It was the same feeling,

The same pain.

Maxim came back into the library.

It's begun,

He said slowly.

What do you mean?

What's happened?

I said.

Growing suddenly cold.

It was a reporter,

He said.

The fellow from the County Chronicle.

Was it true,

He said,

That the boat belonging to the late Mrs.

De Winter had been found?

What did you say?

I said yes,

A boat had been found,

But that was all we know.

It might not be her boat at all.

Was that all he said?

No.

He asked if I could confirm the rumor that a body had been found in the cabin.

No.

Yes,

Someone must have been talking.

Not Searle,

I know that.

The diver,

One of his friends.

You can't stop these people.

The whole story will be all over Carroth by breakfast time tomorrow.

What did you say about the body?

I said I did not know.

I had no statement to make.

And I should be obliged if he did not ring me up again.

You will irritate them.

You will have them against you.

I can't help that.

I don't make statements to newspapers.

I won't have those fellows ringing up and asking questions.

We might want them on our side,

I said.

If it comes to fighting,

I'll fight alone,

He said.

I don't want a newspaper behind me.

The reporter will ring up someone else,

I said.

He will get on to Colonel Julian or Captain Searle.

He won't get much change out of them,

Said Maxim.

If only we could do something,

I said.

All these hours ahead of us,

And we sit here,

Idle,

Waiting for tomorrow morning.

There's nothing we can do,

Said Maxim.

We went on sitting in the library.

Maxim picked up a book,

But I know he did not read.

Now and again,

I saw him lift his head and listen,

As though he heard the telephone again.

But it did not ring again.

No one disturbed us.

We dressed for dinner as usual.

It seemed incredible to me that this time last night,

I had been putting on my white dress,

Sitting before the mirror at my dressing table,

Arranging the curled wig.

It was like an old,

Forgotten nightmare.

Something remembered months afterwards with doubt and disbelief.

We had dinner.

Frith served us,

Returned from his afternoon.

His face was solemn,

Expressionless.

I wondered if he had been to Carith,

If he had heard anything.

After dinner,

We went back again to the library.

We did not talk much.

I sat on the floor at Maxim's feet,

My head against his knees.

He ran his fingers through my hair,

Different from his old,

Abstracted way.

It was not like stroking Jasper anymore.

I felt his fingertips on the scalp of my head.

Sometimes he kissed me.

Sometimes he said things to me.

There were no shadows between us anymore.

And when we were silent,

It was because a silence came to us of our own asking.

I wondered how it was I could be so happy,

When our little world about us was so black.

It was a strange sort of happiness,

Not what I had dreamt about or expected.

It was not the sort of happiness I had imagined in the lonely hours.

There was nothing feverish or urgent about this.

It was a quiet,

Still happiness.

The library windows were open wide,

And when we did not talk or touch one another,

We looked out at the dark,

Dull sky.

It must have rained in the night,

For when I woke the next morning,

Just after seven,

And got up and looked out of the window,

I saw the roses in the garden below were folded and drooping,

And the grass banks leading to the woods were wet and silver.

There was a little smell in the air of mist and damp,

The smell that comes with the first fall of the leaf.

I wondered if autumn would come upon us two months before her time.

Maxim had not woken me when he got up at five.

He must have crept from his bed and gone through the bathroom to his dressing room without a sound.

He would be down there now,

In the bay,

With Colonel Julian and Captain Searle and the men from the lighter.

The lighter would be there,

The crane and the chain,

And Rebecca's boat coming to the surface.

I thought about it calmly,

Coolly,

Without feeling.

I pictured them all down there in the bay,

And the little dark hull of the boat rising slowly to the surface,

Sodden,

Dripping,

The grass-green seaweed and shells clinging to her sides.

When they lifted her onto the lighter,

The water would stream from her sides back into the sea again.

The wood of the little boat would look soft and gray,

Pulpy in places.

She would smell of mud and rust,

And that dark weed that grows deep beneath the sea beside rocks that are never uncovered.

Perhaps the nameboard still hung upon her stern,

The lettering green and faded.

The nails rusted through,

And Rebecca herself was there,

Lying on the cabin floor.

I got up and had my bath and dressed,

And went down to breakfast at nine o'clock as usual.

There were a lot of letters on my plate,

Letters from people thanking us for the dance.

I skimmed through them.

I did not read them all.

Frith wanted to know whether to keep the breakfast hot for Maxim.

I told him I did not know when he would be back.

He had to go out very early,

I said.

Frith did not say anything.

He looked very solemn,

Very grave.

I wondered again if he knew.

After breakfast,

I took my letters along to the morning room.

The room smelt musty.

The windows had not been opened.

I flung them wide,

Letting in the cool,

Fresh air.

The flowers on the mantelpiece were drooping,

Many of them dead.

The petals lay on the floor.

I rang the bell and mawed.

The under-housemaid came into the room.

This room has not been touched this morning,

I said.

Even the windows were shut,

And the flowers are dead.

Will you please take them away?

She looked nervous and apologetic.

I'm very sorry,

Madam,

She said.

She went to the mantelpiece and took the vases.

Don't let it happen again,

I said.

No,

Madam,

She said.

She went out of the room,

Taking the flowers with her.

I had not thought it would be so easy to be severe.

I wondered why it had seemed hard for me before.

The menu for the day lay on the writing desk.

Cold salmon and mayonnaise.

Cutlets and aspic.

Galantine of chicken soufflé.

I recognized them all from the buffet supper of the night of the ball.

We were evidently still living on the remains.

This must be the cold lunch that was put out in the dining room yesterday,

And I had not eaten.

The staff were taking things easily,

It seemed.

I put a pencil through the list and rang for Robert.

Tell Mrs.

Danvers to order something hot,

I said.

If there's still a lot of cold stuff to finish,

We don't want it in the dining room.

Very good,

Madam,

He said.

I followed him out of the room and went to the little flower room for my scissors.

Then I went into the rose garden and cut some young buds.

The chill had worn away from the air.

It was going to be as hot and airless as yesterday had been.

I wondered if they were still down in the bay or whether they had gone back to the creek in Carroth Harbor.

Presently I should hear.

Presently Maxim would come back and tell me.

Whatever happened,

I must be calm and quiet.

Whatever happened,

I must not be afraid.

I cut my roses and took them back into the morning room.

The carpet had been dusted and the fallen petals removed.

I began to arrange the flowers in the vases that Robert had filled with water.

When I had nearly finished,

There was a knock on the door.

Come in,

I said.

It was Mrs.

Danvers.

She had the menu list in her hand.

She looked pale and tired.

There were great rings round her eyes.

Good morning,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I said.

I don't understand,

She began,

Why you sent the menu out and the message by Robert.

Why did you do it?

I looked across at her,

A rose in my hand.

Those cutlets and that salmon were sent in yesterday,

I said.

I saw them on the sideboard.

I should prefer something hot today.

If they won't eat the cold in the kitchen,

You had better throw the stuff away.

So much waste goes on in this house anyway that a little more won't make any difference.

She stared at me.

She did not say anything.

I put the rose in the vase with the others.

Don't tell me you can't think of anything to give us,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I said.

You must have menus for all occasions in your room.

I'm not used to having messages sent to me by Robert,

She said.

If Mrs.

DeWinter wanted anything changed,

She would ring me personally on the house telephone.

I'm afraid it does not concern me very much what Mrs.

DeWinter used to do,

I said.

I am Mrs.

DeWinter now,

You know,

And if I choose to send a message by Robert,

I shall do so.

Just then,

Robert came into the room.

The County Chronicle on the telephone,

Madam,

He said.

Tell the County Chronicle I'm not at home,

I said.

Yes,

Madam,

He said.

He went out of the room.

Well,

Mrs.

Danvers,

Is there anything else?

I said.

She went on staring at me.

Still,

She did not say anything.

If you have nothing else to say,

You had better go and tell the cook about the hot lunch,

I said.

I'm rather busy.

Why did the County Chronicle want to speak to you,

She said.

I haven't the slightest idea,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I said.

Is it true,

She said slowly,

The story Frith brought back with him from Carroth last night,

That Mrs.

DeWinter's boat has been found?

Is there such a story,

I said.

I'm afraid I don't know anything about it.

Captain Searle,

The Carroth harbormaster,

Called her yesterday,

Didn't he,

She said.

Robert told me.

Robert showed him in.

Frith says the story in Carroth is that the diver who went down about the ship,

There in the bay,

Found Mrs.

DeWinter's boat.

Perhaps so,

I said.

You had better wait until Mr.

DeWinter himself comes in and ask him about it.

Why was Mr.

DeWinter up so early,

She asked.

That was Mr.

DeWinter's business,

I said.

She went on staring at me.

Frith said the story goes that there was a body in the cabin of the little boat,

She said.

Why should there be a body there?

Mrs.

DeWinter always sailed alone.

It's no use asking me,

Mrs.

Danvers,

I said.

I don't know any more than you do.

Don't you,

She said slowly.

She kept on looking at me.

I turned away.

I put the vase back on the table by the window.

I will give the orders about the lunch,

She said.

She waited a moment.

I did not say anything.

Then she went out of the room.

She can't frighten me anymore,

I thought.

She has lost her power with Rebecca.

Whatever she said or did now,

It could not matter to me or hurt me.

I knew she was my enemy and I did not mind.

But if she should learn the truth about the body in the boat and become Maxim's enemy too,

What then?

I sat down in the chair.

I put the scissors on the table.

I did not feel like doing any more roses.

I kept wondering what Maxim was doing.

I wondered why the reporter from the County Chronicle had rung us up again.

The old sick feeling came back inside me.

I went and leant out of the window.

It was very hot.

There was thunder in the air.

The gardeners began to mow the grass again.

I could see one of the men with his machine walk backwards and forwards on the top of the bank.

I could not go on sitting in the morning room.

I left my scissors and my roses and went out onto the terrace.

I began to walk up and down.

Jasper padded after me,

Wondering why I did not take him for a walk.

I went on walking up and down the terrace.

About half past eleven,

Frith came out to me from the hall.

Mr.

De Winter on the telephone,

Madam,

He said.

I went through the library to the little room beyond.

My hands were shaking as I lifted the receiver.

Is that you?

He said.

It's Maxim.

I'm speaking from the office.

I'm with Frank.

Yes?

I said.

There was a pause.

I shall be bringing Frank and Colonel Julian back to lunch at one o'clock.

He said.

Yes.

I said.

I waited.

I waited for him to go on.

They were able to raise the boat,

He said.

I've just got back from the creek.

Searle was there and Colonel Julian and Frank and the others.

I wondered if Frank was standing beside him at the telephone and if that was the reason he was so cool,

So distant.

All right then,

He said.

Expect us about one o'clock.

I put back the receiver.

He had not told me anything.

I still did not know what had happened.

I went back again to the terrace,

Telling Frith,

First,

That we should be four to lunch instead of two.

An hour dragged past,

Slow,

Interminable.

I went upstairs and changed into a thinner frock.

I came down again.

I went and sat in the drawing room and waited.

At five minutes to one I heard the sound of a car in the drive.

And then voices in the hall.

I patted my hair in front of the looking glass.

My face was very white.

I pinched some color into my cheeks and stood up waiting for them to come into the room.

Maxim came in.

And Frank.

And Colonel Julian.

I remembered seeing Colonel Julian at the ball,

Dressed as Cromwell.

He looked shrunken now,

Different.

A smaller man altogether.

How do you do?

He said.

He spoke quietly,

Gravely,

Like a doctor.

Ask Frith to bring the sherry,

Said Maxim.

I'm going to wash.

I'll have a wash too,

Said Frank.

Before I rang the bell,

Frith appeared with the sherry.

Colonel Julian did not have any.

I took some to give me something to hold.

Colonel Julian came and stood beside me by the window.

This is a most distressing thing,

Mrs.

De Winter,

He said gently.

I do feel for you and your husband most acutely.

Thank you,

I said.

I began to sip my sherry.

Then I put the glass back again on the table.

I was afraid he would notice that my hand was shaking.

What makes it so difficult was the fact of your husband identifying that first body over a year ago,

He said.

I don't quite understand,

I said.

You did not hear then what we found this morning,

He said.

I knew there was a body.

The diver found a body.

Yes,

He said.

And then,

Half glancing over his shoulder towards the hall.

I'm afraid it was her,

Without a doubt,

He said,

Lowering his voice.

I can't go into details with you,

But the evidence was sufficient for your husband and Dr.

Phillips to identify.

He stopped suddenly and moved away from me.

Maxim and Frank had come back into the room.

Lunch is ready,

Shall we go in?

Said Maxim.

I led the way into the hall,

My heart like a stone,

Heavy,

Numb.

Colonel Julian sat on my right,

Frank on my left.

I did not look at Maxim.

Frith and Robert began to hand out the first course.

We all talked about the weather.

I see in the Times they had it well over 80 in London yesterday,

Said Colonel Julian.

Really?

I said.

Yes,

Must be frightful for the poor devils who can't get away.

Yes,

Frightful,

I said.

Paris can be hotter than London,

Said Frank.

I remember staying a weekend in Paris in the middle of August,

And it was quite impossible to sleep.

There was not a breath of air in the whole city.

The temperature was over 90.

Of course the French always sleep with their windows shut,

Don't they?

Said Colonel Julian.

I don't know,

Said Frank.

I was staying in a hotel.

The people were mostly Americans.

You know France,

Of course,

Mrs.

De Winter,

Said Colonel Julian.

Not so very well,

I said.

Oh,

I had the idea you had lived many years out there.

No,

I said.

She was staying in Monte Carlo when I met her,

Said Maxim.

You don't call that France,

Do you?

No,

I suppose not,

Said Colonel Julian.

It must be very cosmopolitan.

The coast is pretty though,

Isn't it?

Very pretty,

I agreed.

Not so rugged as this,

Eh?

Still,

I know which I'd rather have.

Give me England every time,

When it comes to settling down.

You know where you are over here.

I dare say the French feel that about France,

Said Maxim.

Oh,

No doubt,

Said Colonel Julian.

We went on eating a while in silence.

Frith stood behind my chair.

We were all thinking of one thing,

But because of Frith,

We had to keep up our little performance.

I suppose Frith was thinking about it too,

And I thought how much easier it would be if we cast aside convention and let him join in with us,

If he had anything to say.

Robert came with the drinks.

Our plates were changed.

The second course was handed.

Mrs.

Danvers had not forgotten my wish for hot food.

I took something out of a casserole covered in mushroom sauce.

I think everyone enjoyed your wonderful party the other night,

Said Colonel Julian.

I'm so glad,

I said.

Does an immense amount of good locally,

That sort of thing,

He said.

Yes,

I suppose it does,

I said.

It's a universal instinct of the human species,

Isn't it,

Said Frank,

That desire to dress up in some sort of disguise?

I must be very inhuman then,

Said Maxim.

It's natural,

I suppose,

Said Colonel Julian,

For all of us to wish to look different.

We are all children in some ways.

I wondered how much pleasure it had given him to disguise himself as Cromwell.

I had not seen much of him at the ball.

He had spent most of the evening in the morning room,

Playing bridge.

You don't play golf,

Do you,

Mrs.

De Winter,

Asked Colonel Julian.

No,

I'm afraid I don't,

I said.

You ought to take it up,

He said.

My oldest girl is very keen,

And she can't find young people to play with her.

I gave her a small car for her birthday,

And she drives herself over to the north coast nearly every day.

It gives her something to do.

How nice,

I said.

She ought to have been a boy,

He said.

My lad is different altogether.

No earthly use at games.

Always writing poetry.

I suppose he'll grow out of it.

Oh,

Rather,

Said Frank.

I used to write poetry,

Myself,

When I was his age.

Awful nonsense,

Too.

I never write any now.

Good heavens,

I should hope not,

Said Maxim.

I don't know where my boy gets it from,

Said Colonel Julian.

Certainly not from his mother or from me.

There was another long silence.

Colonel Julian had a second dip into the casserole.

Mrs.

Lacey looked very well the other night,

He said.

Yes,

I said.

Her dress came adrift as usual,

Said Maxim.

Those eastern garments must be the devil to manage,

Said Colonel Julian.

And yet they say,

You know,

They are far more comfortable and far cooler than anything you ladies wear in England.

Really,

I said.

Yes,

So they say.

It seems all that loose drapery throws off the hot rays of the sun.

How curious,

Said Frank.

You'd think it would have just the opposite effect.

No,

Apparently not,

Said Colonel Julian.

Do you know the East,

Sir?

Said Frank.

I know the Far East,

Said Colonel Julian.

I was in China for five years,

Then Singapore.

Isn't that where they make the curry,

I said.

Yes,

They gave us very good curry in Singapore,

He said.

I'm fond of curry,

Said Frank.

It's not curry at all in England,

It's hash,

Said Colonel Julian.

The plates were cleared away.

A souffle was handed and a bowl of fruit salad.

I suppose you were coming to the end of your raspberries,

Said Colonel Julian.

It's been a wonderful summer for them,

Hasn't it?

We've put down pots and pots of jam.

I never think raspberry jam is a great success,

Said Frank.

There are always so many pips.

You must come and try some of ours,

Said Colonel Julian.

I don't think we have a great lot of pips.

We're going to have a mass of apples this year at Manderley,

Said Frank.

I was saying to Maxim a few days ago we ought to have a record season.

We shall be able to send a lot up to London.

Do you really find it pays,

Said Colonel Julian?

By the time you've paid your men for the extra labor and then the packing and carting,

Do you make any sort of profit worthwhile?

Oh,

Lord,

Yes,

Said Frank.

How interesting.

I must tell my wife,

Said Colonel Julian.

The souffle and the fruit salad did not take long to finish.

Robert appeared with cheese and biscuits,

And a few minutes later Frith came with the coffee and cigarettes.

Then they both went out of the room and shut the door.

We drank our coffee in silence.

I gazed steadily at my plate.

I was saying to your wife before luncheon de winter,

Began Colonel Julian,

Resuming his first,

Quiet,

Confidential tone,

That the awkward part of this whole distressing business is the fact that you identified that original body.

Yes,

Quite,

Said Maxim.

I think the mistake was very natural under the circumstances,

Said Frank quickly.

The authorities wrote to Maxim,

Asking him to go up to Edgecombe,

Presupposing before he arrived there that the body was hers,

And Maxim was not well at the time.

I wanted to go with him,

But he insisted on going alone.

He was not in a fit state to undertake anything of the sort.

That's nonsense,

Said Maxim.

I was perfectly well.

Well,

It's no use going into all that now,

Said Colonel Julian.

You made that first identification,

And now the only thing to do is to admit the error.

There seems to be no doubt about it this time.

No,

Said Maxim.

I wish you could bespare the formality and the publicity of an inquest,

Said Colonel Julian,

But I'm afraid that's quite impossible.

Naturally,

Said Maxim.

I don't think it need take very long,

Said Colonel Julian.

It's just a case of you reaffirming identification,

And then getting Tab,

Who you say converted the boat when your wife brought her from France,

Just to give his piece of evidence that the boat was seaworthy and in good order when he last had her in his yard.

It's just red tape,

You know,

But it has to be done.

What bothers me is the wretched publicity of the affair,

So sad and unpleasant for you and your wife.

That's quite all right,

Said Maxim.

We understand.

So unfortunate that wretched ship going ashore there,

Said Colonel Julian.

But for that,

The whole matter would have rested in peace.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

The only consolation is that now we know poor Mrs.

De Winter's death must have been swift and sudden,

Not the dreadful,

Slow-lingering affair we all believed it to be.

There can have been no question of trying to swim.

None,

Said Maxim.

She must have gone down for something,

And then the door jammed,

And a squall cut the boat without anyone at the helm,

Said Colonel Julian.

A dreadful thing.

Yes,

Said Maxim.

That seems to be the solution,

Don't you think,

Crawley?

Said Julian,

Turning to Frank.

Oh yes,

Undoubtedly,

Said Frank.

I glanced up,

And I saw Frank looking at Maxim.

He looked away again immediately,

But not before I had seen and understood the expression in his eyes.

Frank knew,

And Maxim did not know that he knew.

I went on,

Stirring my coffee.

My hand was hot,

Damp.

I suppose sooner or later we all make a mistake in judgment,

Said Colonel Julian,

And then we are for it.

Mrs.

De Winter must have known how the wind comes down like a funnel in that bay,

And that it was not safe to leave the helm of a small boat like that.

She must have sailed alone over that spot scores of times,

And then the moment came,

She took a chance,

And the chance killed her.

It's a lesson to all of us.

Accidents happen so easily,

Said Frank,

Even to the most experienced people.

Think of the number killed out hunting every season.

Oh,

I know,

But then it's a horse falling generally that lets you down.

If Mrs.

De Winter had not left the helm of her boat,

The accident would never have happened.

An extraordinary thing to do.

I must have watched her many times in the handicap race on Saturdays from Carroth,

And I never saw her make an elementary mistake.

It's the sort of thing a novice would do,

In that particular place too,

Just by the ridge.

It was very squally that night,

Said Frank.

Something may have happened to the gear.

Something may have jammed.

And then she slipped down for a knife.

Of course,

Of course.

Well,

We shall never know,

And I don't suppose we should be any the better for it if we did.

As I said before,

I wish I could stop this inquest,

But I can't.

I'm trying to arrange it for Tuesday morning,

And it will be as short as possible,

Just a formal matter.

But I'm afraid we shan't be able to keep the reporters out of it.

There was another silence.

I judged the time had come to push back my chair.

Shall we go into the garden?

I said.

We all stood up,

And then I led the way to the terrace.

Colonel Julian patted Jasper.

He's grown into a nice-looking dog,

He said.

Yes.

They make nice pets,

He said.

We stood about for a minute,

Then he glanced at his watch.

Thank you for your most excellent lunch,

He said.

I have rather a busy afternoon in front of me,

And I hope you will excuse me dashing away.

Of course.

I'm so very sorry this should have happened.

You have all my sympathy.

I consider it's almost harder for you than for your husband.

However,

Once the inquest is over,

You must both forget all about it.

Yes,

I said.

Yes,

We must try to.

My car is here in the drive.

I wonder whether Crawley would like a lift.

Crawley,

Can I drop you at your office if it's any use?

Thank you,

Sir,

Said Frank.

He came and took my hand.

I shall be seeing you again,

He said.

Yes.

I did not look at him.

I was afraid he would understand my eyes.

I did not want him to know that I knew.

Maxim walked with them to the car.

When they had gone he came back to me on the terrace.

He took my arm.

We stood looking down at the green lawns towards the sea and the beacon on the headland.

It's going to be all right,

He said.

I'm quite calm,

Quite confident.

You saw how Julian was at lunch and Frank.

There won't be any difficulty at the inquest.

It's going to be all right.

I did not say anything.

I held his arm tightly.

There was never any question of the body being someone unknown,

He said.

What we saw was enough for Dr.

Phillips even to make the identification alone without me.

It was straightforward,

Simple.

There was no trace of what I'd done.

The bullet had not touched the bone.

A butterfly sped past us on the terrace,

Silly and inconsequent.

You heard what they said,

He went on.

They think she was trapped there in the cabin.

The jury will believe that at the inquest too.

Phillips will tell them so.

He paused.

Still I did not speak.

I only mind for you,

He said.

I don't regret anything else.

If it had to come all over again,

I should not do anything different.

I'm glad I killed Rebecca.

I shall never have any remorse for that,

Never.

But you,

I can't forget what it has done to you.

I was looking at you,

Thinking of nothing else all through lunch.

It's gone forever,

That funny,

Young,

Lost look that I loved.

It won't come back again.

I killed that too,

When I told you about Rebecca.

It's gone in 24 hours.

You are so much older.