'Mr Manack found Mummy long before the miner did. He found her when he first went to look for her. He found her because Peter was standing over the shaft, whining.'
'Good God!' I said. Then — "
'Yes. He threw the dog down the shaft. There had to be a reason for Mummy going along that track. Peter was the only reason he could think of.'
'How horrible!' I murmured.
'Yes,' she said. 'He was a lovely dog. He used to bring me baby rabbits — he'd bring them back in his mouth alive and quite unhurt. But it saved your mother. And after that — " She hesitated and then added quickly, 'After that the bars were put in the attic window. You see, she couldn't remember where she'd been or what she'd been doing whilst she was out there on the cliffs. She was very ill for a long time.'
I was staring out across the cliffs. But I didn't see the sea. I didn't see anything — only that bare little room with the bars across the window and the hatch cut in the door. I was cold, despite the warmth of the sun. And when I did notice the sea, shimmering like gold, it seemed a mockery in this wretched place. 'But was she really mad?' I asked. I couldn't believe it.
'I'm afraid so,' she replied sadly. 'Loneliness does queer things to people. I know what loneliness is. Loneliness unbalanced her. She had fits of rages when she broke things. Sometimes she didn't remember what she'd done for perhaps a day or even more.' She suddenly put her hand on my arm. 'I'm sorry to have told you all this. I didn't want to. That's why I tried to avoid you, but I couldn't. You see, she told me so much about you. And I was very fond of her when I was little. Please — just remember that. She was a good, kind person. But things went wrong with her life and — well, it was too much for her.'
We sat quite silent then. I tried to think of something to say, but I couldn't. The whole story was so fantastic — so horrible. I wanted to be by myself. I wanted to think it all out. 'The milk will spoil out there in the sun,' I muttered, getting to my feet.
'Yes,' she said. 'The milk will spoil.'
I left her then and went slowly down across the rustling heather. I stopped by the basket and looked back. Kitty's figure was outlined against the blue of the sky as she climbed towards Cripples' Ease. I was sorry I had let her go then. I would like to have gone on talking to her about other things. I needed someone to talk to. The sound of voices made me turn. The girl in the red shirt and white shorts was coming back along the cliff top. She was holding her boy friend's hand and the sound of her laughter came to me on the light breeze. I went into the hoist shed and so back to the hideout. The light thrown by the inch-long jet of my lamp was very dim after the sunlight. But the gloomy rock walls and the dim light were better suited to my thoughts than the brilliant glare of a beautiful September day. I sat down on the bare springs of one of the beds and cursed Cripples' Ease as I had heard my father curse the place so many years ago.