Bride of Pendorric

Chapter VI

Roc left for his week-end trip.

Before he went he said to me, when we were in the bed room together:

“I don’t like this at all, Favel. We’ve got to get it sorted out. I wish you hadn’t gone snooping. It’s all at such an unfortunate time.”

He was almost his old self and I immediately swung round to meet him half-way. Eagerly I waited for what he would say next. ” There’s a simple explanation to all this,” he said. ” But I can’t tell you yet.

Will you wait a while and trust me? “

” But Roc …”

” All right,” he said. ” You can’t. But this isn’t going on. I’ll think about it while I’m away; but promise me this: You won’t think too badly of me, will you? I’m really not quite such a scoundrel as you believe I am.”

” Oh Roc,” I said, ” it’s all so unnecessary. There was no need to tell me lies. I just wish you hadn’t.”

” And you can’t trust someone who has once lied, can you?” He looked at me wistfully and I had the impression that he was trying to charm me as he had so many times before.

” Roc, tell me about it,” I pleaded. ” Tell me now. Then we can start being happy again.”

He hesitated.

“Not now, Favel.”

“But why not now?”

“It isn’t only my affair. I’ve got to discuss it with some one else.”

” Oh, I see.”

” But you don’t see. Listen, Favel. I love you. And you’ve got to love me too. You’ve got to trust me. Damn it, can’t you have a little faith in me?”

I couldn’t make myself say yes.

” All right.” He put his hands on my shoulders and gave me a swift kiss on the lips with nothing warm or passionate about it. ” See you on Monday or Tuesday.”

Then he was gone, leaving me as baffled and unhappy as before—or almost.

But the fact that he was away did give me an opportunity to think; and several little incidents from the past kept recurring to me. I had been in danger of losing my life on two occasions since coming to Pendorric; which was strange because it was within a very short time, and it was something which had never happened to me before in the whole of my life. I was thinking of that time when someone had removed the danger signal on the cliffs. But then it had been Roc who had saved me. At that time I had not known I was Lord Polhorgan’s granddaughter. But Roc had, and if I had died then. Roc would have inherited nothing.

A horrible thought came to me. Was it meant to shift suspicion? Was the idea that, when later I had a fatal accident, people would remember how Roc had saved me then?

No, that was a hideous thought. I was suggesting that Roc had deliberately locked me in the vault and planned to leave me there! It was as though my personality had split into two; there was part of me which was determined to defend Roc and prove him innocent, and another equally as determined to prove him guilty.

Who else could have locked the door of the vault? Who else could have come along and unlocked it and then pretended that it was jammed? Who else had a motive for wanting to be rid of me? On my death Roc would inherit my grandfather’s fortune and be free to marry whomsoever he wished. Who would that be? Althea Grey?

Then I thought of what Polly had said that morning in Bedivere House: when Barbarina was dead. Roc’s father had wanted to marry Louisa.

While I was brooding on these things there was a knock on the door and Morwenna came in. For a moment I felt envious of her radiant happiness.

” Oh hallo, Favel. I hoped I’d find you here.” She looked at me anxiously. ” Roc seems to have gone off in a bit of a huff. Why don’t you make it up?”

I was silent and she shrugged her shoulders. ” It’s unlike him,” she went on. ” Usually with him it’s a big flare-up and then everything’s as it was before. Yet this thing of yours seems to have been going on for days.”

“You mustn’t let it bother you,” I said.

“Oh, I don’t. It’ll work itself out, I expect. But an annoying thing has happened. I’ve had to leave my car at the garage and I was wondering if you were using the Morris this morning.”

” Please have it,” I said. ” I can go to Polhorgan—I’ve got to go some time, and I don’t need a car to go there.”

” Are you sure? I want to go into Plymouth. Dr. Clement says I’ve got to rest every day. He’s going to be a bit fussy about me, so I thought I’d do a bit of knitting. It’ll be something to do while I put my feet up. I want to get wools and patterns and there’s so little to choose from here.”

” Do take the Morris and don’t worry about me.”

She came over to me and, unexpectedly, kissed me. ” Things will soon be all right between you and Roc, I know,” she said. When she had gone I left at once for Polhorgan. There was no sense in sitting about and brooding; I went by way of the coast road and tried to stop thinking of Roc’s duplicity by planning the orphans’ home I might one day have at Polhorgan.

When I arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson came out to greet me, and I could tell by their portentous manner that they had been eagerly looking forward to telling me something.

I was taken to the sitting-room and given coffee, and then it came out.

” We wouldn’t mention this, madam, but for the fact that Mrs. Penhalligan has been having a word with Mrs. Dawson, and that has somewhat coloured our views in the matter. It is a delicate subject, madam, and Mrs. Dawson and I trust that you will understand that it is only in our endeavour to serve you . “

I was anxious to cut short the circumlocution so I said: ” Oh yes, of course, I understand, Dawson.”

” Then, madam, I will tell you. I did not care to mention this before because I feared it might reflect on … one whom it was not my place to mention. But since Mrs. Penhalligan has spoken to Mrs. Dawson”

” Please tell me all. about it, Dawson.”

” Well, madam. Dr. Clement was so certain, that his lordship died from natural causes and discouraged us from bringing forward what actually happened. There was no inquest, the cause of death being considered natural. But there is a way of hastening death, madam, and Mrs. Dawson and I have long been of the opinion that his lordship was hurried to the grave.”

” Yes, I know the bell and the box were on the floor, but he might very well have knocked them over when he was reaching for them.”

” So he might, madam; and who is to say he didn’t? One cannot make suppositions in a court of law. But Mrs. Dawson overheard a conversation between his lordship and the nurse on the morning of the night he died.”

“Oh! What conversation?”

” His lordship threatened to dismiss her if she continued to see Mr. er . ” Dawson coughed apologetically. ” Mr. Pendorric. ” I wanted to protest, but my throat seemed to have closed up and would not let my voice come through. I had had enough. I could not bear any more revelations.

” And it seems, madam, rather coincidental that not many hours later his lordship should be unable to reach his pills. Mrs. Dawson and I do not forget, madam, that a legacy was mentioned in that will for the nurse who was in his lordship’s employ at the time of his death… “

I was scarcely listening to them. I was thinking: How many lies has he told me? He did admit that he was almost engaged to Althea Grey. Then he had heard of my existence. He had married me as his father had married Barbarina. How much was he influenced by the past? It was as though we were actors in some obscure drama, playing the same parts which had been played before.

Barbarina had been married to bring money into Pendorric when her husband had been in love with Louisa Sellick. Had I been married for the same reason when my husband was in love with Althea Grey? Who was the vague shadow sensed by Jesse Pleydell. on that day when Barbarina fell to her death? Was it her husband, Petroc Pendorric? I’m becoming hysterical, I thought. I’m letting my imagination run away with me.

I should never have believed this of Roc before that scene in Bedivere House.

Now my thoughts would not be controlled. Had Althea Grey deliberately removed the pills, hoping to hasten his death? For he had to die, before I could inherit his money; and now . I had to die before it was theirs.

I wondered what gossip was going on all around me. Mrs. Penhalligan had talked to Mrs. Dawson. Did they all know, then, of the trouble between Roc and me? Did they know the reason?

The Dawsons were looking at me with concern and compassion. Were they warning me that Roc and Althea Grey were lovers? Were they suggesting that, since the nurse had had no compunction in hastening my grandfather to his death, she and her accomplice might have none in hastening me to mine?

I said: ” It was very unfortunate that my grandfather should have imagined these things. I think perhaps being such an invalid he was apt to worry over non-existent troubles. I have heard that it is a symptom of the illness he had.”

The Dawsons looked at me sorrowfully. Mrs. Dawson would have continued to speak, but Dawson was too much of a diplomatist to allow it. He lifted a hand and she was silent.

On his face was the expression of a man who can be satisfied that he has done his duty.

When I left Polhorgan I was afraid I should not be able to keep up my facade of serenity. I was too restless. There were so many things I wanted to find out and I had to go into action; one thing I could not endure was inactivity.

I wanted to talk to someone and I believed if Morwenna had not gone to Plymouth I should have sought her out and confided everything in her.

There was Deborah. I could talk to her.

I hurried back to the house and went to Deborah’s room. She was not in. Uncertainly I came down to the hall again, telling myself that it would be easier to think out of doors, when the hall telephone began to ring.

When I answered it there was a low chuckle at the other end of the line.

” Ah, I was hoping I’d catch you. This is Althea Grey.” I was startled because she was so much in my thoughts and I was growing more and more certain that she was playing a big part in the tangle.

” I was wondering if you’d come and see me before I go.”

” Before you go?”

” Yes, I’m leaving very soon. Tomorrow.”

“You mean leaving altogether?”

” Come along and I’ll tell you all about it. I’ve been wanting to have a talk with you for some time. When can you?”

” Why … now.”

” Suits me.” Again there was that low laugh and she rang off. I hurried out of the house, out along the coast road; and in due course came to Cormorant Cottage.

It was aptly named; even now the gulls were swooping and soaring about the little cove which lay below, and I saw some cormorants. The cottage itself was perched on a rock which jutted out over the sea; it was small and painted blue and white, and there was a steep path which led up to it. It was the ideal summer cottage.

” Hallo!” One of the windows was thrown up. ” I’ve been watching for you. Ill come down.”

I started up the path which was almost overgrown with St. John’s Wort, and by the time I reached the door Althea was standing there. ” I’m just packing.”

“You’re leaving?”

” M’m. Do come in and sit down.”

I stepped straight into a room with casement windows which looked on to the sea. It had clearly been furnished for renting with only the essentials, and everything in drab colours which wouldn’t show the dirt.

” Rather a change from Polhorgan,” she commented, and held out a cigarette case while she looked at me with what seemed like amusement.

” Nice of you to come and see me.”

” I might say it was nice of you to ask me.”

” I was lucky to catch you in.”

” I’d only just come in. Roc’s away for a few days.”

” Yes, I know.”

I raised my eyebrows, and again that flicker of amusement crossed her face. ” Grape-vine,” she said. ” You can scarcely move in this place without everyone knowing all about it. Did anyone see you come in here?”

” No. Why … I don’t think so.”

” Because if someone did there’d be speculation, you bet.”

” I had no idea you were leaving Cornwall so soon.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“The season’s over. It’s lonely. You walk for miles along the cliffs without meeting anyone.

You see, you didn’t meet anyone coming here from Pendorric. Not my cup of tea. By the way, would you like one? “

” No, thanks.”

“Coffee?”

” No, thank you. I can’t stay long.”

” A pity. We’ve never had a real cosy chat, have we? And it’s so peaceful here. I’ve often thought you were rather suspicious of me.

I’d like to put that right. “

” Suspicious? What do you mean?”

” Now you’re playing innocent.”

” I should like to know why you asked me here. I thought you had something to tell me.”

” I have. And this is the time to tell. You see, I’ve got another job and I like to tidy everything up before I go.” She stretched out her long slim legs and regarded them with satisfaction. ” Rich old gentleman going on a world tour needs a nurse in constant attendance.

Rich old gentlemen seem to be my speciality. “

“Don’t rich young ones ever come your way?”

“The trouble with the young is that they don’t need nurses.” She burst into laughter. ” Mrs. Pendorric, you are uneasy.”

” Uneasy?”

” Well, this is a lonely spot and I don’t believe you have a very high opinion of my character. You’re beginning to regret coming and are wondering how you can quietly slip away. Yet you came of your own free will, remember. In fact, you jumped at it when I asked you. It wasn’t really very wise, was it? You’re here and nobody knows you’ve come.

You’re rather rash, Mrs. Pendorric. You act on the spur of the moment.

Do come and look at my view. “

She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. She was strong and I remembered in that moment that Mabell Clement had said she only looked as though she were made of Dresden china.

She drew me to the window, holding my arm in a firm grip, while with her free hand she threw open the casement window. I looked down at the sheer drop to the sea. A long way below, the waves were breaking on the jagged rocks.

” Imagine,” she said, her voice close to my ear, ” someone falling from this window! Not a chance. It wouldn’t do to let this cottage to anyone with sleep-walking tendencies or to someone who was planning a little homicide.”

For a few seconds I really believed that she had lured me here to kill me. I thought: She has planned this . so that the way will be free to Roc and my grandfather’s fortune.

That she read my thoughts was obvious ; but what I saw in her face was amusement as she released my arm.

” I think,” she said slowly, ” that you would be more comfortable sitting down.”

” What was your object in asking me here?” I demanded. ” That’s what I’m going to tell you.” She almost pushed me on to the dingy settee and sat in the armchair opposite me. ” Mrs. Pendorric,” she said, ” you can stop being scared. I only intend to talk. You really shouldn’t worry about me, you know. In a few days I shall have gone right away from this place.”

” Are you sorry to be going?”

” It’s a mistake to be sorry. Once a thing’s over it’s done with. You were always a little jealous of me, weren’t you? There’s no need to be. After all, you married him, didn’t you? It’s true he did think of marrying me once.”

“What about you?”

” Certainly. It would have been a good marriage. I don’t know whether it would have suited me; though I like adventure. But it’s true I’m just past thirty now, so perhaps it is time I began to think about settling down.”

” You seem to find life … amusing.”

“Don’t you? You should. It’s the only way to live it. I’ve made a decision, Mrs. Pendorric; I’m going to tell you all you came to hear.”

She was laughing at me, and strangely enough I was ready to believe whatever she told me: for although she seemed tough and extremely worldly, experienced and capable of almost anything, she did seem truthful—largely because she would find it more amusing to tell the truth than lies.

” What were you doing before you came to Polhorgan?” I asked. ” Nursing, of course.”

“As Nurse Stoner Grey?”

She shook her head. ” In my last case I was Grey. Stoner Grey before that.”

” Why did you drop Stoner?”

” Unpleasant publicity. Not that I minded, but it might not have been easy to get the kind of job I wanted. People have long memories. So you knew about the Stoner Grey incident. Those Dawsons told you, I bet.”

” They were a bit vague about it. It was … someone else.” She nodded. ” If all had gone well I might never have had to take up nursing again. There was nothing wrong with it The old gentleman made a will in my favour; but they found he was non componentis , .. and his wife won the case.”

” I suppose you persuaded him to make that will.”

” Well, what do you think?” She leaned forward. ” You’re a nice woman, Mrs. Pendorric, and I’m … not so nice. You see I didn’t have your advantages. No nice millionaire for a grandfather. I wasn’t really the sort of girl to marry into Pendorric. I’m an adventuress because I like adventure. It adds a spice to life. I lived the early part of my life in a back street and I didn’t like that much. I was determined to break away…. I was like your grandfather in my way. I hadn’t got the business flair, though. I didn’t know how to set about earning millions. But it wasn’t long before I found out that I was beautiful, and that’s one of the best assets a girl can have. I took up nursing, and I intended to go into private nursing, which was a way of getting what I wanted. And I saw that I got the right jobs, too. That’s why I came to look after your grandfather.”

” You hoped that he would leave you his money?”

” One can always hope. Then there was Roc. Adventuresses always weigh up all the possibilities, you know.”

” Roc must have seemed the more hopeful of the two, surely … when you got to know my grandfather.”

She laughed again.

“He did. But then he’s too shrewd. He saw through me. He liked me, yes. And I liked him. I’d have liked him if he’d been one of the fishermen here. But he always held back; he seemed to be aware of something in me which … well, how shall we say? … wasn’t quite what a gentleman looks for in his wife—not Roc’s kind anyway. So we were good friends and then he went away and when he came back he’d married you. He’s got a kind heart. He wanted to be friends still, and didn’t want me to feel snubbed. That was why he was extra nice to me. But I saw you were getting a little jealous.” She laughed.

” All clear now?”

” Not quite,” I said. ” How did my grandfather die?”

She looked at me very intently and seemed more serious than she had during the whole of our interview.

” I have admitted to you that I look out for chances to improve my lot,” she said firmly, ” but I’m not a murderess. I’ve always believed that other people’s lives mean as much to them as mine does to me. If I can get the better of people … all well and good. But I do draw the line at murder.” Once again the smile was in her eyes. ” So that’s why you were so alarmed when you came in 1! Then I’m doubly glad you came. I want to clear up that little point before I go away. Your grandfather often mislaid his little box. He did so once when you were with him. Don’t you remember?”

I did remember. I had left Polhorgan early and found her with Roc on Pendorric beach.

” He dropped the pills; it agitated him that he could not find them when he needed them; and in that agitation he knocked over the bell.

That was how he died, Mrs. Pendorric. I’d be ready to swear it. He was, it’s true, in rather an agitated state. He was worried about you.

He knew that at one time your husband and I had been friendly and he spoke to me about it. It upset him, although I assured him that there was nothing beyond friendship in our relationship. But to worry over imaginary details is a feature of his complaint. But I do assure you that I did nothing intentionally to hasten his death. “

” I believe you,” I said, because I did.

” I’m glad. I shouldn’t have liked you to think me capable of that.

Most other things . yes. But not murder. ” She yawned and stretched her arms. ” Just think, in a month’s time I’ll be heading for the sun when the mists swirl round Pendorric and the southwest gales batter the walls of Polhorgan. I’ve got loads of packing to do. ” I rose. ” Then I’d better go. “

She came to the door of the cottage with me, and when I had walked down the path we said good-bye. She stood at me door watching me.

My encounter with Althea Grey had been rather bewildering, for she had been embarrassingly frank. I had believed her while I was sitting with her, but now I wondered whether she had been amusing herself with my gullibility.

Was she really going away? At least she was not with Roc, and there was some measure of comfort in that.

The day seemed to stretch out endlessly before me. I did not want to go back to Pendorric, but there seemed nothing else to do. I thought I would go now and find Deborah and tails; to her, not that I was really anxious to confide, even in her.

As I came towards the house Mrs. Penhalligan, who must have seen me approaching, came running out. She was very agitated and could scarcely speak coherently.

” Oh, Mrs. Pendorric, there’s been an accident….” My heart missed a beat and then began to gallop to make up for it. Roc! I thought. I ought to have been with him. ” It’s Miss Morwenna, ma’am. She’s had an accident in her car. It was the hospital that phoned.”

” Morwenna …” I breathed.

” Yes, it happened on Ganter Hill. They’ve taken her to Treganter Hospital.”

“She’s …?”

” They say it’s very serious. Mr. Chaston’s already gone.”

” I see.”

I felt bewildered. I could not think what I should do for the best.

“The twins …?” I began.

” Miss Bective is with them. She’s told them.” Deborah drove up at that moment. She got out of her car and called to us: ” Isn’t it warm this morning? Hallo … is anything wrong?” I said: “There’s been an accident It’s Morwenna. She was driving in to Plymouth.”

“Is it bad? Is she hurt?”

I nodded. ” Charles has gone to Treganter Hospital. It’s rather serious, I think.”

“Oh my God,” murmured Deborah.

“And Hyson … and Lowella?”

” They’re with Rachel. Shell look after them.” Deborah put her hands over her eyes. ” This is terrible.” There was a sob in her throat. ” At such a time. I wonder how badly hurt she is. It’ll be tragic if this has harmed the child.”

” Do you think we ought to go to the hospital?”

“Yes,” said Deborah.

“Let’s go at once. Poor Charles! Get in, Favel.

It isn’t very far. “

Mrs. Penhalligan stood watching us as we drove away. Deborah looked grim and I thought: She loves Morwenna like a mother; and indeed it was natural that she should, for she had brought up Roc and his sister after their mother had died.

“I expect she was thinking of the child,” murmured Deborah. ” We ought not to have let her drive. She’s been so absentminded lately.”

” I could have driven her into Plymouth,” I said.

” Or I. Why did she want to go, anyway?”

” For knitting-wool and patterns.”

” It’s so ironical. She’s longed for another child, and because of it”

I had suddenly remembered, and the memory struck me like a blow. ” Deborah,” I said slowly, ” Morwenna wasn’t driving her own car. She was using the little blue Morris which I usually drive!” Deborah nodded. ” But she’d driven it before. Besides, she has always been such a good driver.”

I was silent. The coincidence did not seem to impress Deborah as it did me. I was almost afraid to examine my thoughts.

I shook them off. I was becoming unnerved. At least first of all I must wait to hear what had caused the accident.

And if by any chance something in the car had gone wrong, should I be foolish to imagine that it was due to tampering, that someone, believing I should use the car, had done something which made an accident inevitable? I was not such an experienced driver as Morwenna.

What would have happened if I had been in that car this morning?

Deborah had laid a hand on mine.

” Favel, we mustn’t anticipate trouble, dear. Let us hope and pray that she’ll come through.”

That was a strange day of brooding horror. Morwenna’s life was in danger; I believed mine was too, for I was certain that what had happened to her that day had been part of a plan and no accident, and that someone not very far from me was angry because the wrong person had walked into the trap. There had been a witness of the accident. It had happened on Ganter Hill—not a very steep hill as Cornish hills go, but rather a long one which sloped gradually into Treganter. One of the local people had seen the car; there was no other involved. Suddenly it had begun to roll about the road, the steering clearly out of control; a glimpse had been caught of the frightened woman at the wheel as the car wobbled downhill and crashed into a tree.

In the late afternoon the hospital rang up, and as a result Charles took the twins to see Morwenna. Deborah and I went with them, at Charles’s request. Quite clearly he feared what he would find when we arrived there.

Deborah and I did not go in to See Morwenna, because she was very weak and only her immediate family were allowed to see her.

I shall never forget Hyson’s face as she came out. It was so pale, and seemed shrivelled so that she looked like an old woman. Lowella was crying; but Hyson shed no tears.

Charles told us that Morwenna’s condition was still very serious, that he was going to stay at the hospital and wanted us to take the twins home; so I drove, while Deborah sat at the back, a twin on either side of her, her arms about them holding the sobbing Lowella and the silent Hyson.

When we reached Pendorric, Rachel and Mrs. Penhalligan were waiting to hear the news.

We were all very silent and upset, and Mrs. Penhalligan said we should try to eat something. We went into the winter parlour, and when we were there Hyson suddenly cried out:

” Her head was all bandaged. She didn’t know me. Mummy didn’t know me!

She’s going to die . and death’s horrible! “

Deborah put her arms about the child. ” There, my darling, hush.

You’re frightening Lowella. “

Hyson broke free. Her eyes were wild and I could see that she was on the verge of hysteria. ” She should be frightened. We all should.

Because Mummy’s going to die and I . I hate it. “

” Mummy will get better,” Deborah comforted.

Hyson gazed straight before her for a few seconds and then suddenly her eyes were on me. She continued to stare at me, and Deborah, noticing this, took the child’s head and held it against her breast.

” I’m going to take Hyson up to my room,” she said.

“She’ll stay with me tonight. This has been terrible … terrible.” She went out of the room, her arms about Hyson; but Hyson had turned once more to stare at me.

” I hate it … I hate it …” she cried.

Deborah gently led her away.

Roc came home at once, his business uncompleted, and when I saw him I realised again the depth of his affection for his sister. He was stunned by what had happened, and seemed to have forgotten all about our strained relationship.

The next days were spent in going to the hospital, although only Charles and Roc were allowed to see Morwenna. Deborah was wonderful with the twins, and I felt that Hyson needed a good deal of care during those days. I had not guessed how deep was her feeling for her mother.

It was three days after the accident when we heard that Morwenna would probably recover; but she had lost her baby; and she had not yet been told this.

I remember driving Charles home from me hospital after he had been given that information; he was very upset and talked to me more intimately than he ever had before.

” You see, Favel,” he said, ” it meant so much to her. I wanted a son, naturally; but she seemed to have a sort of obsession about it. And now there won’t be any more children … ever. That much they can tell me.”

” As long as she recovers …” I whispered.

” Yes, as long as she recovers there mustn’t be any more regrets.”

When we knew that Morwenna was out of danger Roc went away again.

There was nothing he could do at home, he said; either he or Charles had to attend to business, and in Ifae circumstances it was for Charles to remain at Pendorric, close to Treganter. During the last days I had been so immersed in the tragedy of Morwenna’s accident that I had not thought very much about my own position, but as soon as Roc had.

gone my fears began to return, especially as it seemed firmly established that it was some unusual fault in the steering that had been responsible for the accident; and I knew very well that there had been nothing wrong with the car when I had used it the day before. I spent a sleepless night after Roc had gone, and the next morning Mabell Clement telephoned me and asked if I would come over and have morning coffee with her. She had sounded rather agitated, and when I arrived at Tremethick, Mabell took both my hands in a firm grip and said: ” Thank heaven you’ve come.”

” What’s wrong?” I wanted to know.

” I’ve scarcely slept all night thinking of you. Andrew’s very worried. We were talking about you nearly all last night. We don’t like it, Favel.”

“” I don’t understand. What don’t you like? “

” You know, or perhaps you don’t … but I assure you he is, I mean Andrew. He’s the most level-headed person I’ve ever known. And he’s not satisfied. He thinks this is too much of a coincidence to be ignored.”

” You mean …”

” Sit down. I’ve got the coffee made. Andrew will be in at any moment.

At least he’s going to try to be. But young Mrs. Pengally’s baby’s due, so it’s possible hell be detained. If he is, I’ve got to make you see. “

” I’ve never seen you so agitated, Mabell.”

” I don’t think I’ve ever felt so agitated. I’ve never before known anyone who’s in danger of being murdered.”

I stared at her in horror, because I knew what she meant; and the fact that the thought was in her mind as well as mine gave it substance.

“We’ve got to be logical, Favel. We’ve got to look this things right in the face. It’s no use saying This sort of thing couldn’t happen here … or to me.” That’s what everybody says. But we know such things do occur. And you happen to be very rich. People envy money more fhan anything. They’re ready to kill for it. “

” Yes, I think you’re right, Mabell.”

” Now listen, Favel. Someone locked you in that vault and intended to keep you there, where your cries wouldn’t be heard, and you would have died of fright or starvation or something. That was (he plan.”

I nodded.

“If Miss Hyson hadn’t happened to come that way and hear you call, you might still have been there … at least your body might … with that of the little girl.”

“I think you’re right.”

” Well, suppose there was an explanation of that. Suppose the door did jam as they said it did …”

She paused, and I thought: As Roc said it did. Oh Roc . not you.

That would be more than I could bear.

“… well, I suppose that’s possible,” she continued. ” But what is so strange is that, not so long after, the car which you were expected to be driving should be involved in this accident. When Andrew and I heard what had happened we were quite stunned. You see the same idea occurred to us both.”

I tried to speak steadily. ” You think that the … person who locked me in the vault, tampered with the car?”

” I think two accidents like that can’t be merely chance.”

” There was another.” I told her about the notice on the cliffs. ” Roc happened to remember, and came after me.”

I knew what was in her thoughts, because her mouth hardened and she said: “It wasn’t all that dangerous. It wasn’t like the vault … and the car.”

” Still, someone did move the board. It might have been someone who knew I was at Polhorgan. And then of course there’s this violin-playing and singing, and the story of the Brides.”

” As I said, we don’t like it. We’re very fond of you, Favel —myself and . Andrew. I think that someone is trying to harm you and it’s’someone at Pendorric.”

” It’s a ghastly thought, and now that Roc’s away …”

” Oh, so he’s away?”

” Yes, he went last week-end on business and he came back when he heard about the accident. He’s had to go back now.” Mabell stood up.

That hard expression was in her face again, and I knew whom she suspected.

“That nurse has left Cormorant Cottage,” she said. ” I knew she was going.”

“I wonder where she is now?”

We were silent for a few minutes, then Mabell burst out: ” I just don’t like the thought of your being at Pendorric.”

” But it’s my home.”

” I think you ought to get away for a bit… to sort things out. Why don’t you come and stay here for a night or two? We could talk, and you’d feel safe here.”

I looked round the room with the pictures (which Mabell had been unable to sell) on the walls and examples of her handiwork in evidence over the brick fireplace.

It certainly seemed like a haven. I should feel perfectly at peace here. I should have time to think about what had happened, to talk about it with Mabell and Andrew; but there was no real reason why I should stay with them.

” It would seem so odd,” I began.

” Suppose I was going to paint your portrait. Would that give us an excuse?”

” Hardly. People would say I could easily come over for sittings.”

” But we hate the thought of your being there. We’re afraid of what’s going to happen next.”

I thought of Roc, going away on business; this time he had not suggested that I should go with him. So why shouldn’t I stay with friends?

“Look,” said Mabell, “I’ll drive you back and you can pack a bag. Just your night things.”

She was so determined and I felt so uncertain that I allowed her to get out the car and drive me back to Pendorric.

When we reached the house I said: ” I’ll have to explain to Mrs. Penhalligan that I shan’t be home for a night or so. I’ll tell her about the picture . only I must say it seems rather strange in the midst of all this trouble. “

” Stranger things have been happening,” said Mabell firmly. I went up to my room and put a few things into a bag. The house seemed very quiet. I felt dazed, as I had since I had talked to Mabell. I was certain now that someone was determined to kill me; and that it could happen while I was in Pendorric. The playing of the violin, the singing—they had been, the warning signs; someone had tried to unnerve me, to make me believe this story of the woman who was trying to lure me into the tomb to take her place.

But ghosts did not have keys to vaults; they did not tamper with cars.

My bag was packed. I would go down to the kitchen and tell Mrs. Penhalligan. If Morwenna had been here I should have explained to her that I was staying with the dements for a while. I didn’t want to disturb Charles. Of course I could tell Deborah. I went along to her rooms. She was there reading when I entered, and as she looked at me the serenity faded from her face. She sprang to her feet. ” Favel, you’re upset.”

” Well everything’s been so upsetting.”

” My dear child.” She took my hand and led me to the window-seat. ” Sit down and tell me all about it.”

” I’ve just come to tell you that I’m spending a night or two with the Clements.”

She looked surprised.

“You mean the doctor and his sister?”

” Yes.

Mabell’s going to paint my portrait. ” Even as I said the words I thought how puerile they sounded. She would know that I was making an excuse to leave Pendorric. She had always been so kind to me and I was sure she would understand if I explained to her. It was insulting to her intelligence not to tell her the truth, I felt. So I blurted out:

” As a matter of fact, Deborah, I want to get away. If it’s only for a day or so I want to get away.”

She nodded. ” I understand. Things haven’t been going quite smoothly between you and Roc and you’re upset. And coming on top of all this .”

I was silent and relieved when she went on: ” It’s perfectly understandable. It’ll do you good, dear, to get away for a while. I feel the same myself. This anxiety about Morwenna has been … terrible. And now we know that she’ll be all right we realise how tensed-up we’ve been, and we begin to feel the effects of the shock.

So you’re going to the Clements. “

“Yes. Mabell suggested it. I’ve just packed a bag.” Deborah frowned.

” My dear, I suppose it’s wise.”

“Wise?”

” Well, it’s not as though Mabell’s there alone, is it? You see, this is a small place and mere’s a lot of gossip. Quite absurd, of course, but there it is … and I’ve noticed … and I expect other people have too … that the doctor is rather interested in you.” I felt myself flushing hotly. ” Dr. Clement!”

” He’s quite young and people are so ready to talk. You might say there’s always gossip about Pendorrics, and so there is. The men I mean. It’s different with the women.

Unfair of course, but that’s the way of the world. The women have to be beyond reproach. Because of the children, my dear. This is ridiculous. It’s really quite absurd, but so is the gossip and the scandal that goes on in this place. You must please yourself, Favel, but I don’t really think that . in the circumstances . it would be wise for you to go to Tremethick. “

I was amazed; then I remembered the eager friendship of the Clements.

Andrew Clement had always shown pleasure in my company; Mabell knew this. Was that why she had been so friendly with me?

” I’m sure Mabell Clement would understand if it were put to her,” said Deborah.

“Let’s go to her and bring her in and explain.” We did.

Mabell looked surprised when we asked her in, but Deborah put the case very tactfully and, although Mabell quite clearly didn’t agree, she made no attempt to persuade me.

” It’s this place,” said Deborah, waving a hand. ” All small places are the same, I suppose. So little happens that people look for drama.”

” I shouldn’t have said so little happens at Pendorric,” put in Mabell. “Favel was shut in the vault and Morwenna has a crash that is almost fatal.”

” Such happenings give people a taste for more drama,” said Deborah. ” No, I’m certain it would be wrong. You see, my dears, suppose Favel is going to have her portrait painted, why shouldn’t she come over every day?” She turned to me. ” Now if you do want to get away, dear, I’ll take you to Devon for a week-end. Why not? You’ve always wanted to see my house. We could leave tomorrow if you liked. How would that be?”

“I’d like that,” I said.

Mabell seemed satisfied although disappointed that I was not going back with her.

” What more natural than that we should get away for a night or two,” said Deborah smiling. ” Then you’ll be back by the time your husband returns.”

” It would be a … respite,” I said.

And Mabell agreed.

When Mabell had gone, Deborah told Charles what we planned. He thought it was an excellent idea. Rachel Bective was there to look after the twins; and he thought that by the time we returned we should know when Morwenna was leaving the hospital. ” My dear,” said Deborah, ” I don’t see why we shouldn’t leave today. Why wait till tomorrow? If you’re ready to go, I am.” I was very eager to get away from Pendorric because it was firmly in my mind that the menace which I felt close to me was somewhere in that house.

I collected together the things which I should need and Deborah went off to ask Carrie to do tile same for her. Then Deborah brought her car round to the west porch, and Carrie came down with the bags. As we drove round the side of the house the twins came out of the north door.

They ran up to the car.

“Hallo, Granny Deb,” said Lowella.

“Hallo, Bride. We’re going to see Mummy this afternoon. Daddy’s taking us to the hospital.”

“That’s wonderful, darling,” said Deborah, stopping to smile at them.

“Mummy will soon be home.”

” Where are you going?” demanded Lowella.

” I’m taking Favel to show her my house.”

Hyson had gripped the side of the car. ” Let me come with you.”

” Not this time, darling. You stay with Miss Bective. We’ll be back soon.”

” I want to come. I want to be there. I don’t want to stay here … alone,” said Hyson on a shrill note.

” Not this time, dear,” said Deborah. ” Take your hands away.” She touched them gently. Hyson dropped them and Deborah drove on. I turned and saw Rachel Bective come out of the house; then Hyson started to run after the car.

But Deborah had accelerated. We turned out of the drive.

We crossed the Tamar at Gunislake, and it seemed to me that as the distance between us and Pendorric grew greater, the higher Deborah’s spirits rose. There was no doubt that recent events had depressed her considerably.

She talked a great deal about Morwenna, and what a relief it was to know that she was going to get well.

” When she recovers,” she said, ” I shall bring her over to the moor.

I’m certain it would do her the world of good. “

I was beginning to see that she thought her moorland air the cure for all sickness, whether of the body or mind.

After passing through Tavistock we were soon on the moor. It reminded me very much of our own Cornish moors. but there was a subtle difference, Deborah told me; and you discovered it when you got to know them well. There was no moor like Dartmoor, she assured me, and insisted that Carrie corroborate this statement—which she readily did. Carrie was excited too, and I caught their excitement and felt more at ease than I had since my quarrel with Roc.

Laranton Manor House stood alone about a mile from the village of Laranton. It was an impressive building—Queen Anne in style—with massive iron gates at the entrance.

In the grounds was a cottage, and in this, Deborah told me, lived Mr. and Mrs. Hanson and their unmarried son, all of whom worked for her and kept the house in readiness for her return at any time. She took out a key and opened the front door of the house about which clematis climbed. It must have been a lovely sight in season.

“Ah, it’s good to be home,” she cried.

“Come along, my dear. Come in and see the old house which will always be home to me.”

I met Mrs. Hanson, who expressed no surprise to see her mistress home, and Deborah gave orders in her gentle but competent way.

” Mrs. Hanson, this is my nephew’s bride. She’s going to stay for a night or two. I want Carrie to get the blue room ready for her.”

“The blue room?” repeated Mrs. Hanson.

” Yes, please. I said the blue room. Carrie, put two hot-water bottles in the bed. You know how the first night in a strange bed always seems. And we should like something to eat, Mrs. Hanson. It’s a fair journey from Pendorric.”

She made me sit down, for I was tired, she was sure.

” I’m going to cos set you,” she told me. ” Oh, it is fun to have you here. I’ve always wanted to bring you.”

I sat down in a chair near the big window which gave me a view of a neat lawn and flower-beds.

“Hanson’s a good gardener, but it’s not so easy to grow things on the moor as it is at Pendorric. The ground here is stony and it can be very cold in winter. Snow’s a bit of a rarity at Pendorric; you should see it here in winter. There were times when Barbarina and I were kept in for a whole week—absolutely snowed up.”

I looked round the large room with its ingle-nook and pleasant furniture, and the large bowl of chrysanthemums on a gilt and marble console table.

” I’ve told Mrs. Hanson always to keep flowers in the house,” she told me, following my gaze. ” Barbarina used to look after the flowers, until she married. Then I took over. I didn’t arrange them as artistically as she did.” She lifted her shoulders and smiled. ” I’m longing to show you your room. They should have it ready very soon.

But first I’m hungry. Aren’t you? It’s our moorland air. Oh, it’s good to be home. “

” I wonder you spend so much time at Pendorric,” I said, ” when you so clearly prefer it here.”

” Oh, it’s because of the family … Morwenna, Roc, Hyson and Lowella! Pendorric’s their home and if I want to be with them I have to be at Pendorric. I’ve brought Hyson here quite a lot. Lowella prefers the sea, but Hyson certainly has a taste for the moor.”

” She was very eager to come with us this time.”

” I know, dear child. But I did feel you needed a thorough rest. And with her mother in the hospital she should be there. When I’m here I feel young again. There’s so much to remind me. I can almost imagine that Father is still alive and that at any moment Barbarina will come in through that door.”

“Did Barbarina come here often after her marriage?”

” Yes. She felt the same as I do about this place. After all it was home to her. She had spent the greater part of her life here. How I do harp on the past. It’s a failing of the aged. Do forgive me, Favel. I want you to be happy here.”

” You’re very kind.”

” My dear, I’m so fond of you.”

We were silent for a few moments and I thought that if I were with Deborah in some small country hotel I could have felt at ease. It was a pity that to escape from Pendorric I had to come to the house where Barbarina. had spent the greater part of her life.

Mrs. Hanson came in to tell us that the meal was ready. ” An omelette, madam,” she said. ” If I’d had more time …”

” It’ll be delicious, I’m sure,” smiled Deborah. ” Mrs. Hanson is one of the best cooks in Devon.”

The omelette was certainly delicious, and there was apple pie with clotted cream to follow.

“The real Devonshire cream,” Deborah told me gleefully. ” Now don’t you agree it’s better than the Cornish?”

I really couldn’t tell the difference, so I said it was very good indeed.

” They copied it from us,” said Deborah; ” but they say we copied it from them!”

We were both growing more lighthearted, and I was sure it was a good thing that Deborah had brought me here! I could see quite clearly now that it would have been most unwise for me to have gone to the Clements’.

When the meal was over we went back to the drawing-room for coffee, and when we had finished, Deborah took me up and showed me my room.

It was right at the top of the house, very large and an odd shape.

There were two windows, and the ceiling sloped slightly in a way which was charming and told me that we were immediately under the roof. The single bed at the opposite end of the room was partly in an alcove; and there was a desk, wardrobe, bedside table and dressing-table; on the bed was a blue coverlet, and the carpet was blue. ” This is delightful,” I said.

” And right at the top of the house. It’s so light and airy, isn’t it.

Come and look out. “

We went to one of the windows, and because there was a half-moon I could see the moor stretched out beyond the gardens. ” You should see it in daylight,” Deborah told me. ” Miles and miles of moor. The gorse can be a picture, and the heather too. You can pick out the little streams. They look like flashes of silver in the sunlight.”

” I shall enjoy a good walk tomorrow.”

She didn’t answer. She gazed, enraptured, at the moor. She turned to me. ” Shall I help you unpack?”

“There’s no need. I’ve brought very little.”

” There’s plenty of room for your things.” She opened the door of the wardrobe.

I took out my night things and the two dresses I had brought with me, and she hung them on hangers.

“I’ll show you the rest of the house,” she said.

I enjoyed my tour of the house. I saw the nursery where she told me she and Barbarina had played, the music room where Barbarina had learned the violin, the big drawing-room with its grand piano, and I had peered through the window at the walled garden outside. ” We used to grow lovely peaches on that wall. Our gardener saved all the best for Barbarina.”

“Weren’t you a little jealous of her?” I asked.

“Jealous of Barbarina—never! Why, she and I were … close, as only twins can be. I could never really be jealous.”

” I think Barbarina was lucky to have you for a sister.”

” Yes, she was the lucky one … until the end, of course.”

” What really happened?” I felt compelled to ask. ” It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

Her face crumpled suddenly and she turned away. ” It’s so long ago,” she said almost piteously.

“And you still feel …?”

She seemed to pull herself together. ” There was a suggestion that someone was with her in the gallery at the time.”

“Did you believe it?”

Yes. “

” Then who …?”

” It was never said, but lots of people had tike idea that it was”

” Her husband?”

” There was scandal about that woman. He was still seeing her. He never gave her up when he married Barbarina. He’d married Barbarina because of the money. He needed money. Houses like Pendorric are great monsters … they need continual feeding.”

” You think he killed her because he wanted to have Barbarina’s fortune and marry Louisa Seflick?”

” It entered the minds of some people.”

” Yet he didn’t marry her.”

“Perhaps he dared not.” She smiled at me bravely.

“I don’t think we ought to be talking like this. It isn’t fair to . Petroc. “

” I’m sorry. It’s being here in her old home that reminded me.”

” Let’s change the subject, shall we? Tell me what you would like to do while you’re here.”

” See as much of the country as possible. I intend to be up early tomorrow. After all, I shall be here such a short time. I want to make the most of it.”

” Then I hope you get a good night’s sleep. It’s not always easy in a.

new bed, is it? I’ll send Mrs. Hanson up with a nightcap. What do you like? Horlicks? Milo? Cocoa? Or just plain milk? ” I said I should prefer plain milk.

We sat talking a little while and then she said she would order the milk and take me up.

We mounted the lovely staircase right to the top of the house. ” One thing,” she told toe, ” you’ll be very quiet up here.”

” I’m sure I shall.”

” Barbarina always used to say that this was the room she liked best in the whole of the house. It was her room until she went to ” Barbarina’s room? ” I said.

” The most charming of the bedrooms. That’s why I gave it to you.”

” It was kind of you.”

” You … like it, don’t you? If you don’t I’ll give you another.”

“I like it….”

She laughed suddenly. ” It’s Pendorric she’s supposed to haunt. Not the old Manor.”

She drew the curtains across the windows and the room looked even more charming. Then she switched on the lamp which stood on the hexagonal bedside table.

“There! That should be comfortable. I hope you’ll be warm enough. They should have put two bottles in the bed.” She prodded it. ” Yes, they have.”

She stood smiling at me. ” Good night, dear. Sleep well.” Then she took my face in her hands and ksised it. ” The milk will be coming up. When would you like it—in five or ten minutes?”

“Five, please,” I said.

“All right. Good night, dear.”

She went out and left me. I undressed and, drawing back the curtains, stood for some seconds looking out over the moor. Peace, I thought.

Here I shall be able to think about all the strange things which have been happening to me. I shall be able to make up my mind what I have to do.

There was a knock on my door and I was surprised to see Deborah, who came in carrying a glass of milk on a small tray. She put this down on the hexagonal table.

” There you are, my dear. I thought I’d bring it myself.”

“Thank you.”

” You wont let it get cold, will you? Sleep well.” She kissed me and went out.

I sat on the edge of the bed and, picking up the glass, sipped the milk, which was very hot.

I got into bed, but I was not in the least sleepy. I wished that I had brought something to read, but I had left Pendorric in such a hurry that I had forgotten to do so.

I looked around the room to see if I could find a book; then I noticed the drawer of the hexagonal table. Absently I opened it, and lying inside was a book with a leather cover. I took it out and saw written in a round childish hand on the fly-leaf: ” The diary of Deborah and Barbarina Hyson. This must be the only diary that ever has been written by two people, but of course we are not really two people in the same way that other people are. That is because we are twins. Signed: Deborah Hyson. Barbarina Hyson.”

I looked at those two signatures; they might have been written by the same hand.

So Deborah and Barbarina had kept a diary between them. I was excited by my discovery; then I remembered that I was prying into something private. I shut the book firmly and drank some more milk. But I could not put the diary back into the drawer. Barbarina had written in it.

If I read what she had written I might learn something about her and she had roused my curiosity from the moment I had heard of her; now of course that curiosity was great because I had always felt that Barbarina was in some way connected with the things which were happening to me, and as I sat there in that strange bed it occurred to me that my position was not less dangerous because I had left Pendorric for a temporary respite. When I returned, more attempts might be made on my life.

I remembered that strange singing I had heard in the graveyard before I had been locked in the vault. If it was indeed true that someone was planning to murder me, then that someone was going to make it appear that my death was connected with the legend of Barbarina. And there was no doubting the fact that, if the superstitious people who lived round Pendorric were determined that the death of the Brides of Pendorric was due to some metaphysical law, they would be less likely to report any strange incident they might witness.

And as I held that book in my hand I became convinced that I should be foolish to put aside something which might help me in my need. There might be something in this book, some hint as to how Barbarina had met her death. Had she been in a position similar to mine before that fatal fall? Had she felt, as I was feeling now, that danger was creeping closer and closer, until it eventually caught up with her? If she had felt that, might she not have put it into her diary? But this was her childhood diary; the one she shared with Deborah. There would scarcely be anything in it about her life at Pendorric. But I was determined to see, and I opened the book.

It had probably not been intended for a diary in the first place, for there were no printed dates on the pages; but dates had been written in.

The first was September 6th. No year was given, and the entry read: ” Petroc came to-day. We think he is the best boy we have ever met. He boasts a bit, but then all boys do. We think he likes us because we are asked to his birthday party at Pendorric.”

The next entry was September 12th.

“Carrie is making our new dresses.

She didn’t know which of us was which. She is going to put name tabs on our clothes: Barbarina. Deborah. As if we cared. We always wear each other’s things, we told her. Barbarina’s are Deborah’s and Deborah’s Barbarina’s; but she said we should have our own. ” It seemed just a childish account of their lives here in this house on the moor, of the parties they went to. I had no idea who was writing because the first person singular was never used; it was all in the first person plural. I went on reading until I came to a blank page and thought for a moment that was the end; but a few pages on there was more writing, yet it was not the same. It had matured and I presumed that the diary had been forgotten for some time and taken up again. There was more than a change in the handwriting, for I read:

” August 13th. I was lost on the moor. It was wonderful.” I was excited because now I could say: That was actually written by Barbarina.

Barbarina seemed to have taken on the diary from that point.

” August 16th. Petroc has asked Father and of course Father is delighted. He pretended to be surprised. As if it isn’t what they’ve all wanted for so long! I’m so happy. I’m longing to be at Pendorric.

Then I shall escape from Deborah. Fancy wanting to escape from Deborah who up till now has always seemed a part of me. She is in a way a part of me. That was why she had to feel as I do about Petroc. There were always two of us to go places, to get our selves out of trouble—silly little troubles, of course, which you think are so important when you’re children. But that’s all changed now. I want to get away—away from Deborah. “-I cant stand toe way she looks at me when I’ve been with Petroc—as though she’s trying to read my mind and can’t, like she used to—as though she hates me. Am I beginning to hate her?

” September 1st. Yesterday Father, Deborah and I arrived at Pendorric for a visit. We’re going ahead fast with arrangements for the wedding and I’m so excited. I saw Louisa Sellick to-day while I was out riding with Petroc. I suppose she’s what people would call beautiful. She looks sad. That’s because she knows now she has lost Petroc for ever.

I asked Petroc about her. Perhaps I should have said nothing. But I was never one to stay calm. Deborah was the calm one. Petroc said it was all over. Is it? If it isnt I feel I could kill her. I won’t share Petroc. Sometimes I wish I’d fallen in love with some of the others.

George Fanshawe would have been a good husband and he was very much in love with me. So was Tom Kellerway. But it had to be Petroc. If Tom or George would fall in love with Deborah—Why is it they don’t? We look so much alike that people can’t tell us apart and yet they don’t fall in love with Deborah. It’s the same as it was when we were young. When we were at parties she’d keep in the background. I never did. She always said:

‘ People don’t want me. I get in on your ticket. ” And because she believed it and acted that way, it came to be true. Now Deborah doesn’t know I’m going on with our diary I can write exactly what I feel. It’s such a relief.

” September 3rd. Pendorric! What a wonderful old house. I love it. And Petroc! What is it about him th-‘t’s different from everyone else in the world! Some magic! He’s so gay, but sometimes I’m frightened. He doesn’t seem to be entirely with me.”

I had come to several blank pages in the book, but after that the writing went on.

” July 3rd. I found this old diary to-day. It’s ages since I wrote in it. The last time was just before I married. I see I’ve only put the months and days and left out the years. How like me! Still, it doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I want to write in it again. For comfort, I suppose. Since the twins were born I haven’t thought of it. It’s only now. I woke up last night and he wasn’t there. I thought ‘of that woman, Louisa Sellick. I hate her. There are rumours about her. I suppose he’s still seeing her—and others. Could anyone be all that attractive and not take advantage of it? If I’d wanted a faithful husband I ought not to have married such an attractive man as Petroc.

I notice things. I’ve seen people at parties talking. They brightly change the subject when I come up. I know they’re talking about Petroe and me—and some woman. Louisa Sellick probably. The servants look at me—pityingly. Mrs. Penhalligan for one—even old Jesse. What are they saying? Sometimes I feel I’ll go mad if I let things drift like this.

When I try to talk to Petroc he’ll never be serious. He says, Well, of course I love you. ” And I snap back: And how many others too?” ‘ Mine’s a loving nature. ” he answers. He can never be serious. Life’s so amusing to him. I want to shout at him that it’s not so amusing to me. When I think of the old days in Father’s house I remember how I used to love parties. Everyone made a fuss of me. And Deborah was there—she used to be as pleased as I was with my popularity. Once she said: ” I enjoy it just as though it were mine. ” And I answered ” It is yours. Deb.

Don’t you remember we always used to say that we weren’t two people-but one. ” In those days that satisfied her.”

I had been so excited by what I read that I hadn’t noticed what was happening to myself. I had actually yawned several times during the reading, and my lids now seemed so heavy that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

If I had been less enthralled I should not have been surprised, but the contents of this diary should surely have kept me wide awake. I was determined to go on reading.

” August 8th. Deborah has been here for the last fortnight. She seems to come more often now. There is a change in Deb. She’s become more alive. She laughs more easily. Something has changed her. Other people may not notice—but then they don’t know her like I do. She borrowed my riding hat the other day—the black one with the band of blue round it. She stood before the looking-glass and said: I don’t believe anyone would know I wasn’t you—not anyone.” And actually she has grown more like me since she became more lively. I know on several occasions the servants called her by my name. It amused her very much. I had an idea that she longed to be in my place. If only she knew. But that’s some thing I wouldn’t tell even her. It’s too humiliating. No, I couldn’t even tell Deborah about all the times when I wake up and find Petroc not with me, how I get up and walk about the room imagining what he’s doing. If she knew what I had to suffer she wouldn’t want to be in my place. She sees Petroc as so many others see him—just about the most fascinating man anyone could meet anywhere. It’s different being his wife. Sometimes I hate him.

” August 20th. There was another scene yesterday. Petroc says I’ve got to be calm. He says he doesn’t know what’U happen if I don’t control myself more. Control myself! When he treats me like this! He says I’m too possessive. He says, Don’t pry into my life and I won’t pry into yours.” What sort of a marriage is this?

” August 27th. He has not been near me for more than a week. Sometimes I think everything is over between us. He can’t stand scenes, he says.

Of course he can’t, because he’s in the wrong. He just wants to go on living his own way-which is more or less the same as before he was married; but everything must seem all right on the surface. There mustn’t be scandal. Petroc hates scandal. The fact is he’s lazy. That’s why he married me. Pendorric needed money. I had it. It was simple. Marry money and there’s no need to worry. Why does he have to be so amusing, so charming on the surface—so feckless and cruel underneath? If only I could be as lighthearted as he is! If only I could say Oh-that’s just Petroc. I must take him as I find him. ” But I can’t. I love him too much. I don’t want to share him.

Sometimes I think I’ll go mad. Petroc thinks so too. That’s why he stays away. He hates it when I lose control. Father used to hate it too. But Father was kind and gentle with me. He used to say, Barbarina my dear, you must be quiet. Look at Deborah. How calm she is. Be more like your sister, Bar barina. ” And that used to help. I’d remember that Deborah and I were like one. She had all the calmness in our nature. I was the volatile one. Father might deplore my wildness; but it was what made me attractive and Deborah a little dull. Deborah ought to comfort me now but even she has changed.

” August 29th. From my window I saw Deborah come back from a ride to-day. She was wearing a hat with a blue band. Not mine this time.

She’s got one exactly like it. As she came round from the stables the children were just going out with their nurse. They called to her. ‘ Hallo, Mummy,” they said. Deborah stooped and kissed first Morwenna, then Roc. The nurse said: Morwenna’s knee is healing up nicely, Mrs. Pendorric. ” Mrs. Pendorric! So the nurse and the children had mistaken her for me. I felt angry. I hated Deborah in that moment and it was like hating myself. I did hate myself. It was some minutes later when I said to myself, But why didn’t Deborah explain?” But she didn’t.

She just let them think that she was the children’s mother—the mistress of the house.

” September 2nd. If this goes on I think I shall kill myself. I’ve been thinking about it more and more. A quiet sleep for ever and ever.

No more Petroc. No more jealousy. Some times I long for that. I often remember the Bride story. Some of the servants are sure Lowella Pendorric haunts the place. They won’t go in the gallery where she hangs, after dark. This Lowella died after a year of marriage, having ;a son ; she was cursed by her husband’s mistress. The Pendorric men haven’t changed much. When I think of my life at Pendorric, I’m ready to believe there might be a curse on the women of the house.

” September 3rd. Petroc says I’m getting more and more hysterical. How can I help that? All I ask is that he should be with me more, should love me as I love him. Surely that’s not asking too much. All he cares about is that he should miss none of his pleasures, which means women—women all the time. Though I believe he’s kept on with this Louisa Sellick. So he’s faithful to her—after his fashion. There’s one other thing that he cares about: Pendorrie. What a fuss the other day When they discovered woodworm in the gallery. The wood’s particularly bad in the balustrade—near Lowella Pendorric’s picture—the one who was supposed to have died because of the curse, and haunt the place. That’s what’s made me think of her so much. ” September 12th. Deborah is still with us. She doesn’t seem to want to go back to the moor. She certainly has changed. Sometimes I think she’s growing more like I used to be, and I’m becoming more like she was. She’s inclined to use my things as though they were hers. We did this in the old days but it was different then. She comes into my bedroom and talks. It’s odd but I fancy she’s trying to get me to talk about Petroc, and when I do she seems to shy away. The other day when we were talking she picked up a jacket of mine—a casual sort of thing in mustard colour. ” You hardly wear it,” she said. ” I always liked it.” She slipped it on and as I looked at her I had a strange feeling that I am Deborah and that she’s so longing to be in my place that she is Barbarina. I felt it was myself I was looking at. Is Petroc right? Is all that I’m suffering driving me crazy? Deborah took off the jacket but when she went out she slung it over her arm and I haven’t seen it since.

” September 14th. I cry a lot. I’m so wretched. No wonder Petroc hardly ever comes near me. For some weeks he’s been sleeping in the dressing-room. I try to tell myself it’s better that way. Then I don’t know whether he’s there or not, so I don’t have to wonder whom he’s with. But of course I do.

” September 20th. I can’t believe it. I must write it down. I think I’ll go mad if I don’t. I could bear the others; but not this. I know about Louisa Sellick and I can understand it-arid up to a point forgive it. After all he wanted to marry her. It was because of Pendorric that he married me. But this. It’s all so unnatural. I hate Deborah now. There isn’t room for the two of us in this world. Perhaps there never was. We should have been one person. No wonder she’s going about deceiving people—not correcting them when they call her Mrs. Pendorric. Petroc and Deborah!

It’s incredible. But of course it’s not. It’s inevitable in a way.

After all, so much of me is Deborah and so much of her me. We are one—so why shouldn’t we share Petroc as we have shared so many other things? Gradually she’s been taking what’s mine—not only my husband but my personality. The way she laughs now—the way she sings. That’s not Deborah; it’s Barbarina. I go about the house outwardly calm letting the servants think that I don’t care. I stand there smiling when they talk to me and pretend to be interested as I did to-day when old Jesse talked about bringing something into the hall—some plant or other. It’s getting too cold out of doors or something and he doesn’t think the hothouse is quite right for it. Yes, yes, yes, I said, not listening. Poor old Jesse! He’s almost blind now. I told him not to worry; we’d see he was all right. And Petroc will, of course. That’s one thing about him—he’s good to the servants. I’m writing trivialities to prevent myself thinking. Deborah and Petroc —I’ve seen them together. I know. It’s her room he goes to. It leads from the gallery not far from that spot where the picture of Lowella Pendorric hangs. I lay listening last night and heard the door close.

Deborah who is getting like I used to be—and Petroc. How I hate them—both! There shouldn’t be two of us. I’ve tolerated others but I won’t tolerate this. But how can I stop it?

” September 21st. I’ve decided to kill myself. I can’t go on. I keep wondering how. Perhaps I’ll walk into the sea. They say that after the first moment of struggle, it’s an easy death. You don’t feel it much.

My body would be washed in and Petroc would see it. He’d never forget.

I’d haunt him for the rest of his life. It would be his punishment and he deserves to be punished. It would be the legend coming true. The Bride of Pendorric would haunt the place, and I, Barbarina, would be that bride. It seems somehow right—inevitable. I think it is the only way. “

The rest of that page was blank and I thought I had come to the end of the diary. I yawned, I was very tired.

But as I turned the page I came to more writing, and what I read startled me so much that I was almost wide awake.

” October 19th. They think I am dead. Yet I art still here and they don’t know it. Petroc doesn’t know. It’s a good thing that he can’t bear to be near me, because he might discover the truth. He’s away most of the time. He goes to Louisa Sellick for comfort. Let him. I don’t care now. Everything is different. It’s—exciting. There’s no other word for it. I shouldn’t write in this book. It’s all so dangerous, but I like to go over it again and again. It’s ‘funny—really funny because it makes me laugh sometimes—but only when I’m alone. When I’m with anyone I’m calm—terribly calm. I have to be. I feel more alive now than I have for a long time-now that they think I’m dead. I must write it down. I’m afraid I’ll forget if I don’t. I had made up my mind how I would die. I was going to walk into the sea. Perhaps I’d leave a note for Petroc, telling him that he’d driven me to it. Then I’d be sure that I’d haunt him for the rest of his life. It all happened so suddenly. I hadn’t planned it that way at all. Then suddenly I saw how it could be done. How a new bride could take the place of Lowella Pendorric, for it was time she rested in her grave, poor thing. Deborah came into my room. She was wearing my mustard-coloured jacket, and her eyes were bright; she looked sleek and contented, and I knew, as well as if she’d told me, that he’d been with her the previous night. You’re looking tired, Barby,” she said.

Tired! So would she, had she lain awake as I had. She’d be punished too. She would never forgive herself. I doubted whether she and Petroc would be lovers after I had gone. Petroc’s really concerned about the gallery,” she said. It’ll probably mean replacing me whole thing.” How dared she tell me how Petroc felt! How dared she talk in that proprietorial way about Petroc and Pendorric! She used to be so sensitive to my moods; but now her mind was full of Petroc. She picked up a scarf of mine—Petroc himself had bought it for me when we were in Italy—a lovely thing of emerald-coloured silk. She put it absently about her neck. The mustard-coloured jacket set it off perfectly.

Something happened when she took that scarf. It seemed tremendously important. My husband—my scarf. I felt I hadn’t a life of my own any more. I wonder now why I didn’t snatch it away from her, but I didn’t. Come and look at the gallery,” she fiaid. It’s really quite dangerous. The workmen will be coming in tomorrow.” I allowed myself to follow her out to the gallery; we stood beneath the picture of Lowella. Here,” she said. Look, Barby.” Then it happened. It suddenly seemed clear to me. I was going to die because there was no longer any reason to go on living. I had thought of walking into the sea. Deborah was standing close to the worm-eaten rail. It was a long drop down to the hall. I felt Lowella Pendorric was watching us from her canvas, saying: “A Bride must die that I may rest in peace.” It was the old legend and there’s a lot of truth in these old legends. That’s why they persist. Deborah was, in a sense, a Bride of Pendorric. Petroc treated her as such—and she was part of me. There were times when I was not sure which of us I was.

I’m glad I wrote this down, although it’s dangerous. This book must never be seen by anyone. It’s safe enough. Only Carrie has ever seen it and she knows what happened as well as I do. When I read it, I can remember it clearly. It’s the only way I can come back to what really happened on that day. I can live again that moment when she was standing there, perilously close, and I leaned forward and pushed her with all my might. I can hear her catch her breath in amazement—and horror. I can hear her voice, or did I imagine that? But I hear it all the same. No, Barbarina! ” Then I know of course that I am Barbarina and that it is Deborah who lies in the Pendorric vault. Then I can laugh and say: How clever I am. They think me dead and I am alive all these years. But it’s only when I read this book that I am absolutely sure who I am.” I felt limp with horror.

But there was more to be read and I went on reading.

“October 20th. I shouldn’t write in the book any more. But I can’t resist it. I want to write it down while I remember, because it’s fading fast and I am not sure. There was some one in the hall. I was frightened. But it was only old Jesse and he couldn’t see. I stood in the gallery, looking at the splintered wood. I wouldn’t look down on to the hall. I didn’t stay long. Old Jesse had run for help. He might not see me but he knew something was wrong. I ran into the nearest room because I had to get out of the gallery before I was seen. It was Deborah’s. I threw myself on to her bed and lay there, my heart thundering. I don’t know how long I lay there but it seemed like hours. It was a few minutes actually. Voices, cries of horror. What was happening in the hall? I longed to see but I knew I must stay where I was. After a while there was a knock on the door.

I was still lying on the bed when Mrs. Penhalligan came in. She said:

‘ Miss Hyson, there’s been a terrible accident. ” I raised myself and stared at her. It’s the gallery rail. Twas worse than we thought.

Mrs. Pendorric—’ I just went on staring at her. She went out and I heard her voice outside the door. Miss Hyson, she be terrible shocked, poor dear. Tis not to be wondered at—they being so close—so near like. I for one couldn’t tell one from the other. “

” I went down to the sea and looked at it. It was grey and cold. I couldn’t do it. It’s easy to talk of dying; but when you face it—you’re frightened. You’re terribly frightened. I’d been so stunned by the news that they’d made me stay in bed until it was all over. I didn’t see Petroc unless others were there too. That was as well. He was the one I feared. Surely he would know his own wife. But even so there was something I knew about Petroc. He wasn’t the same. The gaiety had gone, the lightheartedness He blamed himself. The servants were talking. They said it was meant. And it happened right under the picture of that other bride. It was no good going against what was meant. Barbarina was meant to die, so that Lowella Pendorric could rest from the haunting. They wouldn’t go near the gallery after dark. They believed Barbarina was haunting Pendorric So she is. She haunted Petroc till the day he died. So the story was true. The Bride of Pendorric had died just as the story said she should and she couldn’t rest in her grave.

” I couldn’t go. I couldn’t leave the children. They call me Aunt Deborah now. I am Deborah. I’m calm and serene. Carrie knows, though.

Sometimes she calls me Miss Barbarina. I’m afraid of Carrie. But she’d never hurt me; she loves me too well. I was always her favourite. I was everybody’s favourite. It’s different now, though. People are different towards me. They call me Deborah and what is happening is that Deborah still lives and it is Barbarina who is dead.

” January 1st. I shall not write any more. There is nothing to write. Barbarina is dead. She had a fatal accident. Petroc hardly spoke to me again. I believe he thought that I was jealous of her, and that I did it hoping he’d marry me; he doesn’t want to know too much about it in case it’s true. I don’t care about Petroc any more. I’m devoted to the children. It doesn’t matter now that Petroc is never here. I’m not his wife any more; I’m his sister-in-law, taking care of his motherless children. I’m happier than I ever was since my marriage; though sometimes I think of my sister and it’s as though she’s with me. She comes to me at night when I’m alone and her eyes are mournful and accusing. She can’t rest. She haunts me and she haunts Petroc. It’s in the legend; and shell continue to haunt Pendorric until another young bride takes her place; then she will rest for evermore.

” March 20th. I have been reading this book. I shall not read it any more. I shall not write in it any more. I shall hide it away. It worries me. Barbarina is dead and I am Deborah; I am calm and serene and I have devoted myself to Roc and Morwenna.

Barbarina haunts me; that’s because it’s in the story that she should—until another bride takes her place. But reading this book upsets me. I shall not do it any more. “

There was one last entry. It stated simply:

” One day, there’ll be a new bride at Pendorric and then Barbarina shall have her rest.”

So it was Barbarina who had brought me to this house, who had lured me to the vault, who had sought to kill me.

I did not know what to do. What could I do tonight? I was alone in this house with Barbarina and Carrie, for the Hansons would be in their cottage in the grounds.

I must lock my door. I attempted to get out of bed but my legs seemed unable to move, and even in my agitated state I could not fight the drowsiness which had taken possession of me. A thought came into my head that I was asleep and dreaming: and in that moment the book had slipped from my fingers and falling asleep was like entering a deep dark cave.

I awoke with a start. For a few seconds I was sitffl in that deep, dark cave of oblivion; then objects started to take shape. Where was I? There was the hexagonal table. I remembered the diary, and then where I was.

I knew too that something had awakened me, and the knowledge quickly followed that I was not alone. Someone was in this room. I had fallen asleep so suddenly that I was lying on my back. I had been aware of the hexagonal table by turning my eyes towards it without moving my head. The heavy sleepiness was still upon me and the deep darkness of the cave was threatening to close about me once more. I was so tired . too tired to be afraid . too tired to care that I was not alone in the room.

I’m dreaming, I thought. Of course I’m dreaming. For from out of the shadows came a figure. It was a woman dressed in a blue house-coat. As the moonlight touched her face I knew who ‘she was.

My heavy lids were pressing down over my eyes; vaguely I heard her voice.

” This time, little bride, there shall be no way out. They will no longer talk of Barbarina’s ghost … but yours.”

I wanted to call out; but some waking instinct warned me not to, and I began to wonder whether after all I was in a dream.

Never before in my life had I been so frightened. Yet never had I been so sleepy, and terror was trying to ward off my sleepiness. What was happening to me? I longed to be in my bedroom at Pendorric with Roc beside me. That was safety. This was danger.

” This is a nightmare,” I told myself. ” In a moment you will wake up.”

She was standing at the foot of my bed looking at me while I watched her through half-closed eyes, waiting for what she would do next. An impulse came to me to speak to her, but something warned me that I must first find out what she intended to do. This had never happened to me before. I was asleep; yet I was awake. I was terrified; and yet it was as though I stood outside this scene, a watcher in the shadows.

I was looking on at the frightened woman in the bed and the other whose purpose was evil.

An idea hit me. I am drugged. The milk was drugged. The milk Deborah brought me. No . not Deborah. I didn’t drink it all. If I had I should now be in a deep, drugged sleep.

She was smiling. Then I saw her hands move in a gesture as though she were sprinkling something over my bed. She went to the window and stooped for a few seconds; and then she stood upright and without giving another glance at my bed, ran from the room.

I was aware of thinking: It is a dream. Then suddenly it seemed I was wide awake. I was looking at a wall of fLu ne The curtains were on fire. For one second, two seconds, I stared at them, while it was as though I emerged from that black cave to reality.

I smelt petrol and in terrible understanding leaped out of bed and made for the door. I was not a second too soon, tor as I did so my bed was aflame.

It is difficult to recall what happened next. I was aware of the blazing bed as I pulled at the door-handle and for one hideous second believed that I was locked in this room as I had been locked in the vault. But that was only due to my anxiety to get out quickly. The door was not locked.

I pulled it open and had the sense to shut it behind me. I saw her then. She was running along the corridor, and I went after her shouting: “Fire!” as I did so. She turned to look at me. I cried:

“Quick! My room’s on fire. We must give the alarm.” She looked at me in bewilderment. I knew then that she was mad, and for those few dramatic seconds I even forgot the danger we were in.

“You tried to kill me … Barbarina I said.

Horror dawned in her face. I heard her whisper as though to herself: ” The diary … Oh, my God, she’s read the diary.”

I caught her arm. ” You’ve set my room on fire,” I said urgently.

“It’ll spread … quickly. Where’s Carrie? On this floor? Carrie!

Carrie! Come quickly. “

Barbarina’s lips were moving; she went on muttering to herself: ” It’s there … in the diary…. She’s seen the diary….” Carrie came into the corridor, wrapping an old dressing-gown about her, her hair in a plait tied with a red tape.

” Carrie,” I shouted. ” My room’s on fire. Phone the fire brigade quickly.”

“Carrie I Carrie! She … knows …” moaned Barbarina.

I gripped Carrie’s arm.

“Show me where the phone is. There’s no time to lose. We must all get out of the house. Don’t you understand?” Still gripping Carrie I pulled her downstairs. I did not look back, being certain that Barbarina, knowing how deadly was the fire she had started, would follow us.

I never saw Barbarina again. By the time we had phoned for the brigade, the top floor was a mass of flame. All I knew was that Barbarina did not follow us downstairs. I have always believed that, rudely shaken out of her dream-world, she had had no thought of anything but the incriminating diary. To her it represented the only way of remembering what had actually happened; and to have lost it would have been to have lost touch with the past. Unbalanced as she was, she had made a futile attempt to save it. I do not like to think what happened to Barbarina when she burst into that room which by then must have been a roaring furnace.

It was nearly an hour before the fire brigade reached the isolated manor house, and by that time it was too late to save it. It was not until we had telephoned for the brigade and the Hansons had arrived that we missed Barbarina. Hanson bravely went up to try to rescue her.

We had to prevent Carrie from dashing into the flames to bring out her mistress, for we knew it was hopeless.

Looking back it is hard to remember the sequence of events. But I do remember sitting in the Hansons’ cottage drinking tea which Mrs. Hanson brought to me, when suddenly I heard a familiar voice. ” Roc!”

I cried, and ran to him; we just stood together clinging. And this was a Roc I had never known before because I had never seen him clearly through the fog of suspicion which surrounded him—strong in his power to protect, weak in his anxiety over my safety, ready to do battle with the powers of darkness for my sake, yet terrified for fear some harm had come to me.