Dead Water by Ngaio Marsh

was accompanied by a really formidable roll of thunder. The sun was now overcast and the heavens were black.
    Wally looked up at the newcomer, gave one of his strange cries, pointed to her and laughed uproariously.
    ‘Thus,’ sang the choir, ‘the Magic Spell was wroughten
    Thus the little lad was healed – ’
    The Green Lady executed some weaving movements with her left hand. A sudden clap of thunder startled her. The string of beads fell on the ledge below. She looked helplessly after it and continued her pantomime. The choir sang on and began a concerted movement. They flanked the Spring and formed up in set groups, kneeling and pointing out the green girl to the audience. Miss Cost propelled Wally towards the ledge. It was the dénouement.
    The applause had scarcely died away when Miss Emily rose and approached the microphone.
    ‘Mr Mayor,’ she began, ‘ladies and gentlemen. I wish to protest –’
    Major Barrimore had risen to his feet with an oath. At the same moment there was a blinding flash of lightning, followed immediately by a stentorian thunder-clap, a deluge of rain, and a shout of uncontrollable laughter from Dr Maine.
II
    The stampede was immediate. Crowds poured out of the enclosure and down to the foreshore. The launch filled. There were clamorous shouts for dinghies. The younger element ran round the point of the bay, made for the hotel causeway and splashed precariously across it. The Boy-and-Lobster contingent took to the path that led directly to the hotel. It was a holocaust. Miss Cost, wildly at large among her drenched and disorganized troupe, was heard to scream: ‘It’s a judgment.’ Unmindful they swept past her. She was deserted. Her velvetbodice leaked green dye into her blouse. Green rivulets ran down her arms. Her hair was plastered like seaweed against her face. The text of the play fell from her hand, and lay, disregarded, in the mud.
    Mrs Barrimore held a brief exchange with Miss Emily who had opened her umbrella and from beneath it, steadily regarded Superintendent Coombe’s late companion. She waved her hostess aside. Mrs Barrimore took to her heels, followed by her husband and Dr Maine. She outdistanced them, fled the enclosure, ran like a gazelle along the path to The Boy-and-Lobster and disappeared.
    Major Barrimore and Dr Maine, who was still laughing, made after her. They were confronted at the gate by Miss Cost.
    It was an ugly and grotesque encounter. She pushed her wet face towards them and her jaw trembled as if she had a rigor. She looked from one to the other. ‘You,’ she stuttered. ‘You! Both of you. Animals. Now wait! Now, wait and see!’
    Major Barrimore said: ‘Look here, Elspeth,’ and Dr Maine said: ‘My dear Miss Cost!’
    She broke into uncertain laughter and mouthed at them.
    ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Barrimore said. She whispered something and he turned on his heel and left her. He was scarlet in the face.
    ‘Miss Cost,’ Maine said, ‘you’d better go home. You’re overwrought and I’m sorry if I –’
    ‘You will be sorry,’ she said. ‘All of you. Mark my words.’
    He hesitated for a moment. She made an uncouth and ridiculous gesture and he, too, left her.
    Miss Emily was motionless under her umbrella. Miss Cost made for her, stumbling on the muddy slope. ‘Wicked, wicked woman,’ she said. ‘You will be punished.’
    ‘My poor creature – ’ Miss Emily began but Miss Cost screamed at her, turned aside and floundered down the path. She passed through the gates into Wally’s Way and after a precipitant descent, was lost among those of her adherents who were clustered round the jetty.
    Jenny and Patrick had set off after the others but, on looking back, saw Miss Emily alone in the downpour. At Jenny’s suggestion they returned and she approached Miss Emily. ‘Miss Pride,’ she said. ‘Let’s go back. Come with us. You’ll be drenched.’
    ‘Thank you, dear child, I have my umbrella,’ said Miss Emily. She was still