The legend of the seventh virgin

9

Mellyora and Kim came over from the Abbas this evening.

They were frightened.

"We want you to come back with us, Kerensa, just until they find him."

I was cool. I have so far managed to hide my feelings; in fact one of my triumphs—the few left to me—is the manner in which I deceive them into thinking that I am just a good friend to them both.

"Find whom?"

"It's Reuben Pengaster. He's escaped. They rather think he'll come back here."

Reuben Pengaster! It was years ago that he had tried to wall me up. There had been times when I told myself I wished he had succeeded; if he had, I should have gone to my death believing that Kim loved me as I loved him; and it seems that the greatest tragedy of my life was learning otherwise.

I laughed, "I'm not afraid."

"Listen, Kerensa." This was Kim speaking, his voice stern, his eyes clouded with concern for me. "I've heard from Bodmin. They're specially concerned. For the last days he's been acting strangely. He said he had something to do and he was going to do it. It was something that he should have done before they took him, he says. They're certain he'll come back here."

"Then they'll have guards here. They'll be watching for him."

"People like that are cunning. Remember what he almost did."

"But for you, Kim," I reminded him gently.

Kim shrugged impatiently. "Come over to the Abbas. Then our minds will be at peace."

I thought: Why should your minds be at peace? Mine has not been all these years because of you.

I said: "You're exaggerating. I shall be perfectly all right here. I'm not moving."

"It's crazy," Bum insisted; and Mellyora was almost in tears.

"We'll come over here then," went on Kim.

I was happy to see his concern. I wanted him to go on worrying about me all through the night.

"Fm not having you here and I'm staying here," I said finally. "This is exaggeration. Reuben Pengaster has forgotten my existence."

I sent them away and I waited.

Night in the Dower House. Carlyon was at school. Daisy was still with me. I had not told her because I did not want to frighten her. She was asleep in her room.

I sat at my window. There was no moon but it was a frosty night and the stars were bright.

I could just make out the ring of stones. Was that a shadow I saw there? Was that a sound I heard? A window being lowered? A door latch being lifted?

Why did I feel this elation? Apart from locking up as usual, I had taken no special precautions. Would he know where to find me? When he had been put away I was living in the Dower House. I lived there now.

Would he find some way of breaking into the house? Would I hear a stealthy step outside my door, that sudden laugh? I could still hear it. I heard it in my dreams. There were times when I saw those big strong hands about to clasp my throat.

Sometimes in the night I called out: "Why did Kim come and save me? I wish he had left me to die."

And that was why I was sitting now—half fearfully, half hopefully. I wanted to know myself, I wanted to discover whether I was glad or sorry to be alive.

I pictured him, the light in his eyes, the mad laughter.

I knew that he had broken out to come for me. He was a sick man-fearfully, mentally sick; but Kim was right when he said such men had cunning. And when he came for me I should know.

He would kill me; perhaps he would hide me somewhere until he could build me into a wall. I knew that was what he believed he must do.

Walled up as the Seventh Virgin! I had been walled up for years, shut away from all that made life good. No sunshine to warm my bones, my life a dead thing.

Was that a footfall below? I went to my window and saw a dark figure there in the shadow by the garden hedge. My throat had gone dry, and when I tried to call out my voice made no response.

Reuben was down there. He had come for me as he had said he would. Of course he had come. Was that not his purpose in breaking out? He had something to do, and he had come to do it.

As I stood at the window, unable for those seconds to move or to plan what to do, it came back to me so vividly that I relived it all again—the horror of being alone with Reuben in the cottage, and later when I recovered a little of my senses and found myself in the cool night air, about to be walled up, face to face with death.

I knew then that I did not want to die. That above everything else I wanted to live.

And Reuben was down there, waiting to kill me.

The shadowy figure had disappeared behind the hedge and I knew that it had moved closer to the house.

I drew my dressing gown about me. I did not know what I was going to do. My teeth were chattering. One thought only was going round and round in my head: Oh God, let me live. I do not want to die.

How soon before he found a way into the house. Everything was locked but people like Reuben, whose minds were filled with a single purpose, often found a way.

Why had I not gone to the Abbas? They had wanted me—Kim and Mellyora. They loved me ... in their way; but they loved each other more. Why must I always want to be the first? Why could I not take what was offered and be thankful? Why did it always have to be the best for me?

I left my bedroom and made my way through the quiet house, down the staircase to the back door. There was a glass panel in that door and my heart leaped with terror, for through the glass I could vaguely see the shape of a man.

Reuben was on the other side of that door, I told myself; and if he could find no other way he would break the glass. I could imagine his hand coming through the hole to undo the bolt. Then I should be at his mercy.

I wanted to get out of the house. I had started to run through the hall to the front door when I remembered Daisy. So I went to her room and awakened her. She had always been stupid and I did not waste time in explanations.

"Put something on quickly," I commanded. "We are going to the Abbas ... at once."

While she fumbled with her things I was thinking: I do not want to die. I want to go on living ... but differently.

Never had I realized before how precious my life was. And it seemed to me that my own thoughts mocked me. Your life is precious to you ... to be lived the way you want to live it. What of others? Would they not feel the same?

I gripped Daisy's hand and ran down the stairs with her. I pulled at the bolt on the front door.

As we stepped out of the house my arm was caught in a strong grip; and in that half second of terror, I knew I was going to fight for my life with all my strength.

"Kerensa!"

Not Reuben then. Kim! His face stern and anxious.

"So ... it is you!"

"My God," he said almost curtly, "you didn't think we were going to leave you alone!"

We? Mellyora too. It was always Mellyora and Kim.

"So it was you who were prowling round the house! You frightened me. I saw you from my bedroom. I thought you were Reuben."

"That's to the good," he retorted. "Perhaps you're ready now to come to the Abbas."

So we went. I didn't sleep all that night. I sat at my window in the house which had played such a large part in my life. I saw the sunrise in a scarlet sky that for a moment or two touched the stones with a rosy glow.

In the morning we heard that they had caught Reuben.

"Thank God!" said Kim. And I too, thanked God. For something had happened to me during that night. It was as though a chink of light had shone through the darkness which enveloped me. This was not the end of my life. I was young; I was beautiful; and Kim and Mellyora could say Thank God because I was alive.

It was a year or so after that night when Reuben Pengaster died. Mellyora brought me the news. She did not mention it but I knew how she had been shadowed by her fear for me. She was radiant on that day and I loved her. My love spread over me, warming me like the sun.

Kim joined us.

"I shall sleep peacefully again," he said. "I'll tell you now, I've lived in fear that he would get out and come for you."

I smiled at him. There was scarcely any bitterness. He was Mellyora's husband and since that night of revelation I had begun to see how right and fitting it was that he should be. I had loved him for his strength and goodness, the manliness of him; I had built him into my dream until I believed that he was as necessary to my happiness as the Abbas. But dreams could never take the place of reality; and on a night of terror when I believed that for the second time in my life I was about to face death, I began to finish with dreams.

Kim was not for me. I admired him; I loved him still, but differently. My feelings for him had gradually been changing. I had even begun to see that, had I married him, our marriage would not have been the success his and Mellyora's was. They were made for each other; outside my dream, Kim and I were not.

Granny had wished me to marry; she wanted me to know that happiness she had shared with her Pedro. Perhaps somewhere in the world there was someone who could love me, whom I could love and with whom I could prove Granny s words that happiness was as willing a guest within four cob walls as in a mansion. He would have to be strong, bold, adventurous. Perhaps more so than Kim who had settled down so happily to the quiet country life.

And Carlyon? Our relationship had changed too. I loved him as deeply as ever but I had learned how precious my life was to me, and Carlyon's to him. We had talked of the future together—Joe with us. Carlyon was going to the University and when he was of an age to decide what career he wanted, he should follow it.

"It is for you to choose, Carlyon," I told him; and as he smiled at me I knew that there was between us that trust and affection which every mother must hope to share with a beloved child.

We are together often and I have great joy in my son.

So I have come out of the darkness. I am no longer walled in by the bricks which I laid with my own hands.

There are sometimes dark days, but they pass and life becomes happier as the weeks go on. Sometimes I fancy Granny is close to me, watching and applauding. I remember the wisdom she taught me; I often repeat some of the things she said to me and I hear them with a new understanding. Perhaps I am learning to live as she wished me to, learning my lessons. I have won back my son. Kim is my friend, Mellyora my sister.

Perhaps one day I shall find a life as satisfying as that Granny enjoyed with Pedro Bee—the good life, the life that came unbidden to Mellyora and was denied to me, the life of love, for loving is giving—all giving, making no demands, living only to give.

That is what I am slowly learning and when I have mastered the lesson, who knows, the good life may come.