Time of the Hunter's Moon

The Meeting in the Mountains

I did not sleep at all that night, and the first thing in the morning I went to see Daisy. I had decided that I must lay the whole matter before her and I began by my account of my meeting with the stranger in the forest. She listened in silence.

Then she said: "I think that you and I should go immediately to the Hall and tell Sir Jason this fantastic story. It seems that Eugenie may be in danger."

I agreed and felt considerably better than I had during the night.

Early as it was, we rode over to the Hall. Sir Jason was out riding, which he apparently did before breakfast, and when he returned was astonished to see us.

Miss Hetherington said: "You had better tell the story, Cordelia, just as you told it to me."

So I did.

"It seems clear," said Daisy, "that this maid of ours is connected in some way with the man who makes a practice of meeting girls in the forest and presumably sweeping them off their feet."

"Clear enough," said Jason. "It is obvious that he intended the same fate for you, Cordelia."

"I think I know now why he disappeared so suddenly. It was when he learned that my aunt was selling up the Manor. He then went to Lydia and now Fiona. Is there any reason why there should be this attack on Eugenie?"

"I can think of one," said Jason. "Fiona inherits the entire fortune which was left to the girls if her sister dies."

"So Elsa is trying to dispose of Eugenie. How diabolical!"

"It will be Fiona's turn next."

"The man is a mass murderer!" said Daisy turning pale.

"I believe that is what is emerging," I said. "His accomplice works at fashionable schools where wealthy young ladies will be. She selects the most desirable, tells them of legends and gets them to a spot where the man can emerge, sets out to charm and decide who shall be his next victim. Lydia had a small fortune. She died on the ski slopes. Do you realize he is teaching Fiona to ski?"

"My God!" said Jason. "We've got to find her."

"How?" I asked. And we were all silent.

"He told me that he lived in a place in Suffolk," I said. "I went to this place and discovered that a family named Dowling had lived there. There was a son and a daughter and this man might have been the son. He told me his name was Compton, but the Comptons had been dead for twenty years. I imagine he gave me the name at random, but the fact that he chose that name and place shows he must have had a connection with it at some time. I think we ought to find out more about that family. In the meantime what are we going to do?"

"We've got to find Fiona," repeated Jason.

"You went looking for her without success. There is one thing that occurs to me. Fiona appears to be safe while Eugenie lives. He wants the whole of the fortune ... not merely hall'. That is Fiona's safeguard."

"I think Eugenie should be taken away," said Daisy.

"I agree," I said. "Elsa ... if it is Elsa ... has tried to poison her. I can see it now. She was trying to do it gradually so that when the final dose was administered it would appear that Eugenie had had a more virulent attack than those from which she had been suffering. Perhaps the dose taken by Charlotte was meant to be the final one. Charlotte has been very ill and it may well be that Eugenie, weakened as she was, would have succumbed."

"It would be incredible if there was not so much evidence to make it plausible," said Jason. "We've got to act promptly."

"I wish I knew how," I said.

"Let's think. Let's try to see all the implications.

That man has Fiona. He has married her. We don't know in what name. We don't know where his is." "He was Mark Chessingham for Lydia Markham." "He wouldn't use the same name again."

"No. Eugenie says he was Carl Someone. She had never heard his surname."

"What are we going to do, go raging round Europe again looking for a man named Carl with a wife named Fiona? Not very helpful, I'm afraid. I think we have to go to the police. This man has to be found quickly."

"There is something that has occurred to me," I said.

They looked at me expectantly. "Yes," I said slowly, "Mrs. Baddicombe has her uses. I thought she was a silly old scandalmonger but I'm feeling quite fond of her just now. Elsa writes letters to someone abroad ... She writes fairly regularly. He isn't always in the same place because Elsa has to ask Mrs. Baddicombe the price of stamps, so our postmistress knows that she has been writing to Switzerland, France, Germany and Austria. She also knows the gender of the recipient of these letters. A man. Now if Elsa is writing letters to her accomplice, and I assume that that is who it is, it must be very likely that he is writing back to her."

"I see," said Daisy, looking at me with approval.

"If we could get hold of one of those letters it will tell us something."

"It should be fairly easy to do that," said Daisy. "As you know one of the men from the stables goes and collects the mail every day because it's too far for the postman to come right out here. He usually leaves it with one of the maids. I can give instructions that he brings it straight to me."

"I daresay Elsa is on the lookout for the return of the man with the post."

"That can easily be dealt with," said Daisy. "I will vary the man's time of calling so that she suspects nothing. What do you think?" She was looking at Jason.

He said: "Yes, do that. But we can't wait for posts. I shall go to London today and in the meantime I think Eugenie should come to the Hall."

"We should have to have a good excuse for her doing so and a plausible tale to give the girls," said Daisy.

"We could say that you have special guests you want her to meet and that she is breaking up a week or so before the rest of the school," I added.

"We'll manage something," said Daisy. "What about Charlotte? I'm a little uneasy about her."

"Let her be moved to the Hall. She is fit to travel now and she can keep Eugenie company. I think we shall have to explain to the girls ... I mean Charlotte and Eugenie."

Daisy looked at me. "You know them well."

"I am not sure of that. But in Eugenie's present mood I think I might be able to talk to her. As for Charlotte, she is too weak to argue. We could say we are taking them for a drive, get them to the Hall, and tell them they are to stay there."

"I'll leave that to you, Cordelia," said Daisy, dismissing the matter with that air of breezy finality which she used when assigning difficult tasks to her employees.

"Bring her, over this morning then," said Jason. "I'm going to make arrangements to go to London to put something in motion. There is so little to go on."

"I pin my faith on a letter," I said. "I think there must be a fairly frequent correspondence."

I went up to my room. Charlotte was sitting in a chair looking pale and listless. I asked how she was and she said she was feeling tired of being in her room all day.

"Would you like to go for a drive?" I asked. She brightened and said she would.

"Then I'll get Eugenie to come along with us." So far so good. I felt a great deal better now I was taking some action.

Eugenie was delighted to miss lessons and take a ride with Charlotte.

"Where are we going?" asked Eugenie.

"We're going to the Hall."

"To see Uncle Jason?"

"I don't know whether he's there."

"He was yesterday," said Eugenie.

"We'll see," I replied.

When we arrived at the Hall I went in with the two girls. Charlotte was clearly exhausted and I asked one of the servants to take us to a room which had been prepared for her.

"Am I going to lie down?" she asked.

"You feel like it, don't you?"

"Just for a little while."

"You can lie down, and Eugenie and I will sit with you. I want to tell you both something."

When she was lying down, I opened the connecting door between that and the next room which was also a bedroom.

I said: "Now I want you to listen to me carefully. You're going to stay here for a while."

"Stay here?" cried Eugenie. "What about school?"

"Well, you have both been very ill... mysteriously. We thought it would be better if you stayed here until break-up. Then I don't know what Charlotte's plans are but you'd be coming here in any case, Eugenie."

"What will Miss Hetherington say?"

"She knows. In fact it is her ides and mine and your uncle's. We want you to stay here because there may be something at school which is not good for you."

They were silent, looking at each other, and I could see that neither of them was displeased to have the term cut short.

"I know what it is," said Eugenie. "It's drains."

"Drains?"

"Yes, they make you ill sometimes. I was ill and so was Charlotte and they think we ought to get away. It's something in our room, I expect. Below the window."

I thought that was an easy way out as I did not want to tell them that we feared an attempt was being made on Eugenie's life.

"Well, you'll have a good time here together, and, Eugenie, you'll look after Charlotte won't you? You'll fend plenty to do."

They looked at each other and laughed.

"What about Romeo and Juliet?" asked Charlotte. "Alas poor Romeo," said Eugenie. "You were quite good, Charlotte. I could never get my lines right. Who'll take our places?"

"I think it is being eliminated," I said. "They'll just have to do with The Merchant of Venice." Charlotte looked regretful.

"You wouldn't be well enough," I said. "Think how you would have hated to see someone else do it."

Realizing that, Charlotte could accept the decision. If Romeo was not Charlotte Mackay, then no one else should be.

I said: "I shall go back now. Your uncle will be here in a day or so, I believe, Eugenie."

I left them and went back to school. When I told Daisy what had happened she was at first outraged by any question of the drains at her school being imperfect; but she soon recovered from that and realized that it was better than telling them the truth.

She said: "I feel very uneasy about that girl Elsa."

"Yes, but I think it is imperative that she does not know we suspect anything. She need not fend out for some little time that Eugenie and Charlotte have gone."

"And when she does?"

"I think she may begin to wonder. We must be very watchful of her."

"I should like to put her in custody right away."

"On what evidence? It is mostly supposition. We must have proof. Let us hope we get that soon. In the meantime let us keep watch on Elsa."

By the next day the girls were talking about the departure of Eugenie and Charlotte. I had explained that Charlotte needed recuperation and that Eugenie, who was her greatest friend, was with her. Elsa would quickly learn that, and I wondered what she would make of it. She might not be suspicious. On the other hand she would not be able to carry out her plan of murder ... if we were right in supposing that was what she was doing.

Jason returned from London in two days. He had little hope of Fiona and her husband being found. It had been pointed out to him that they could be anywhere in Europe, and that all the information we had was that he called himself Carl and his wife was Fiona.

I waylaid Elsa and tried to discover what she was thinking. She betrayed nothing and I could not help wondering whether I was mistaken about her. She had been at Schaffenbrucken and she was here. But certainly she would never have come to Colby if she had known I was here. She had told the story of meeting a man in the woods. Was it possible that that could be a coincidence? Oh no ... it was too neat. She was involved. I was sure of that.

I asked if she was looking forward to going home at Christmas.

"Oh yes, to my sister's place. It's a long way from here. Up north."

"Oh, where?"

"Newcastle."

"That is a long way."

"Yes, but she's my only sister. Families have to stick together, don't they? I'm lucky to have somewhere to go. You want to be with your family at Christmas time, don't you? Teresa tells me she is going with you."

"Oh yes ..."

"I hope Miss Charlotte's getting on all right."

"I believe so."

"Poor girl. She was bad. And Miss Eugenie's with her. I'm glad of that. Thick as thieves, those two."

She went on flicking her duster in the aimless way she had. It was difficult to suspect her.

It was the beginning of the Christmas week and we were breaking up on Wednesday. Rehearsals were over and the great day had come. It was just to be The Merchant of Venice which, Eileen said, was a blessing. Nobody seemed to think it was very strange that Charlotte had gone off to convalesce and that Eugenie had gone with her, and Eileen was delighted to be relieved of Romeo and Juliet.

Daisy sent for me and when I went to her study she was holding a letter in her hand. It was addressed to Miss Elsa Kracken and the postmark was Austria.

"I think," she said, "that this may be what we have been waiting for. I haven't opened it. I think we should be careful about that as it may well be necessary for her to have it and in that case she must not know that we have seen it. I therefore intend to steam it open very carefully and then if necessary we can reseal it."

We sat down side by side and read the letter:

"Dear Sister,

"What disaster! But you must not blame yourself. These things will happen, and I have told you many times that if we do our best and things go wrong we are not to be blamed. But it was most unfortunate and I am a little alarmed. I sensed danger as soon as I learned that woman was there. Perhaps you should have left after we completed the first part of the plan. If you had we should have finished the project by now. That is what we are going to do. Give your notice at once and tell them that you will not be returning after Christmas. Say it is for family reasons. Make it all very natural. You understand that.

"I know when to say Enough. We will be content with what we have. Our little bird is well endowed and we will accept half because to attempt the rest is clearly dangerous. I shall settle this project once and for all. Perhaps it shall be the last and we shall buy our little mansion somewhere ... anywhere. It will be a mansion as grand as Compton just like we used to dream about. But we shall be masters of it. It will not be for us as it was for our father. We shall not be the slaves of the rich. They shall be ours ...

"Most of ail, dear sister, I would not have you blame yourself. Circumstances were against us in this instance. I should have been more wary when I heard that woman was there. She has been our evil genius. I was deceived in her in the beginning, and if it makes you feel less guilty, sister, let me remind you that I, too, made my mistakes. I made grave errors. It is so easily done when one is off one's guard. Carelessly I gave her that name which meant so much to us in the past ... and not only the name but the place as well. I realized immediately what a grave error I had made, but as I said we are all careless at times. That worried me a great deal, I can tell you. But I tell you now to remind you of the mistakes we can make when we are taken off our guard for a moment.

"It was no fault of yours. Your method was right. How did you guess that girl would drink the milk? If you had attempted to stop her as you suggest you should have done that might have been even more disastrous.

"No, stop blaming yourself. Get away and I will finish this project and then we'll be free.

"We have had great success with our plans and if this one is a half success, that is good enough for us.

"You will soon be with me. As soon as you can leave without arousing suspicion come to this hotel. I shall be here for some little time. Until I can say finis.

"In deepest affection, dearest sister,

Your ever loving Brother.

"PS It will be good to have my sister with me. You will be able to comfort me in my `bereavement."'

Daisy and I looked at each other.

"It's true," cried Daisy. "The wickedness! And Fiona ..."

"Fiona is in the gravest danger," I said. "But look, we have the address."

"But not the name."

"The address is what is important. I think I should take the letter at once to Sir Jason."

She nodded and within ten minutes I was riding to the Hall.

When Jason read the letter he was deeply shocked. "What will you do?" I asked.

"I shall go to London. There I shall see the police, and then I shall myself go to this place. There must be no delay. Who knows what will be happening to Fiona."

"Oh Jason," I said, "God go with you."

He paused for just a second; then he put his arms round me and kissed me.

"I must go at once," he said; and I left him.

Two days later a man called at the school and asked to see Miss Hetherington. He was closeted with her for a short time and when he left Elsa went with him.

"They have been most kind," said Daisy. "They did what had to be done with as little fuss as possible."

"Is it an arrest?" I asked.

She nodded. "She is arrested on suspicion of being an accomplice to murder."

We went to her room. In her cupboard we found an array of bottles and some dried herbs.

Daisy smelt them and said: "She must have made her own poisons. She was a clever girl. It's a pity her talents were so misguided."

The Merchant of Venice was quite a success and those parents who had come to see it were very impressed.

We waved the girls off for the Christmas vacation. Teresa and I were going to Moldenbury the next day.

"I thought last term was the most extraordinary I have ever known," said Daisy, "but this one goes even further than that. I wonder how Sir Jason is faring. Oh dear, I do wish this dreadful business was over. So far, fortunately, the school remains unscathed. I hope there is not going to be too much publicity about that girl working here. When I come to think of that I can't look forward to next term with much comfort."

Teresa was in high spirits speculating as to which hat Aunt Patty would be wearing and what cake Violet would have baked for tea.

In the train which was taking us to Paddington, as we had a compartment to ourselves, I talked to Teresa. I thought she looked a little uneasy and I asked her if she was worried about something.

"Not now," she said, "I think it's going to be all right now. It is wonderful that we are going to Epping for Christmas."

"I am sure we shall enjoy it."

"Aunt Patty, Violet, you and I ... John and Charles. It's going to be lovely."

"I can't think why, with such a prospect before you, you were looking quite sad a moment ago."

She was silent for a few seconds, biting her lips and looking out on the fields speeding by. "There is something I ought to tell you. It won't matter now. It's over. Perhaps ..."

"You'd better get it off your conscience," I said. "Yes," she said, "it's safe now. There are Epping and John ... and I think he's lovely. He's just right." "Please tell me, Teresa."

"I didn't fend that earring by the ponds." "What?"

"No. It was in Eugenie's room. She had found it in the stables at the Hall and was going to give it back to Mrs. Martindale but forgot. It was in the drawer in her room for a long time. So I took it."

"Oh Teresa ... you lied."

"Yes," she said, "but I think it was a good lie really. He's a wicked man, Cordelia, and we all knew that he wanted you."

"Teresa. How could you?"

"Well, people said he'd got rid of her. And they didn't know about the earring. That was only for you. To stop you, to show you ..."

I was silent.

"Are you very angry with me?" Teresa watched me anxiously. "I did think that you liked him rather ... and he is wicked. There's the devil in him. Eugenie said so. She said that you and he ... That was why I threw my shoe at her. You don't want anything to do with him, Miss Grant. And there are Epping and John ... and Violet says she wouldn't be surprised if he popped the question pretty soon."

I said: "We shall be in Paddington shortly."

"Are you very angry with me?"

"No Teresa," I said. "What you did you did for love. I suppose that excuses most things."

"Oh good. Shall I get the bags down?"

Aunt Patty embraced us with affectionate delight.

"We're going to Epping the day after tomorrow," she said. "I thought you'd want a little time at Moldenbury to get things ready."

"It'll be such fun," said Teresa. "I wish the snow had stayed."

"Not so easy for getting about, my dear. It might have been so bad that we couldn't have travelled," Aunt Patty reminded her.

"Well, I'm glad it's gone."

"Mind you," went on Aunt Patty, "the forest would have looked very pretty."

Violet greeted us with gruff affection and the statement that we must all be gasping for tea.

"There's hot toast over a basin of water so that the butter soaks well in, and keeps it hot at the same time," she explained. "And there's lardy cakes to follow because a little bird whispered to me that they were Teresa's favourites."

The same cosy homeliness. It was hard to believe that it could exist side by side with horrible death.

The next day the letter came. As soon as I saw the Austrian stamp I began to tremble and for a few seconds I was afraid to open it.

It was in a strange hand and it informed me that there had been an accident. Sir Jason Verringer was unable to travel and he was asking for me. His condition was such that I should lose no time.

It was signed with a name I could not decipher but it had the word Doctor underneath it.

Aunt Patty came in. She stared at me and then took the letter from my hand.

I said: "Something terrible has happened. I know it."

She understood at once because the previous night I had told her everything. Now she looked at me steadily.

"You'll go," she said.

I nodded.

"You can't go alone."

"I must go," I insisted.

"All right," she replied. "I'll come with you."

It was a long and tedious journey across Europe and seemed longer than it actually was, because I was impatient to arrive.

It had not been easy getting away from Moldenbury. Violet was nonplussed and said we were mad - and on the eve of Christmas too! Teresa was angry and sullen.

We tried to explain but it was not easy until Violet grudgingly said that she supposed if Patty thought it was right then it must be. Aunt Patty said that Teresa and Violet should go to Epping without us. There was a great deal of argument, but finally it was agreed that that was what they should do.

Aunt Patty was wonderful during that journey. She said little because that was how she knew I wanted it. She left me with my thoughts and they were all for Jason Verringer.

I learned a great deal during that journey, for all the time I was thinking that I might arrive too late and never see him alive again. I knew that he was in danger: the wording of the doctor's letter had told me that, and while I was looking out of the train windows at hills, rivers and majestic mountains I was trying to imagine what life would be like without him. I had avoided him, but what would it be like if he were not there to avoid?

If he were not there I should never want to go back to the Abbey. There would be a deep sadness in my life and memories which I should strive to forget and never be able to.

"I don't think," said Aunt Patty suddenly, "that the doctor would have suggested you make this long journey if there had not been some hope."

She knew how to comfort me. I could not have borne probing questions, condolences, expressions of sympathy. I might have known that Aunt Patty would understand what was going on in my mind and not attempt to divert my thoughts to subjects which I had no wish to think of.

And so at length we came to Trentnitz.

It was a small hotel, halfway up a mountain-one of the lesser-known resorts for winter sports. We were taken from the station halt to the Gasthof in a kind of sleigh. As soon as we entered the wooden chalet-like building and said who we were, we were told that the doctor was with Sir Jason now and he would certainly see us at once. He had taken the precaution of reserving a room for us, which Aunt Patty and I could share.

The doctor came to us. He spoke fair English and there was no doubt that he was pleased to see us.

"This is what our patient needs," he said. "He wants you with him. You are his fiancée, I believe. I am sure that will help."

"How bad is he?"

"Very bad. The crash was ..." He lifted his shoulder searching for words. "It was a great mercy he was not killed with the other. The police will be here. They will wish to see you. But first ... the patient."

I went to him immediately. He was in a room with a window open to the mountain. Everything was very white and clean looking. He himself seemed drained of colour and for a few seconds I hardly recognized him.

"Cordelia," he said.

I went to the bed and knelt down.

"You came," he whispered.

"As soon as I heard. Aunt Patty is with me."

"It must be Christmas," he said.

"Yes."

"You ought to be at Epping."

"I think I ought to be here."

"I'm pretty well smashed up."

"I haven't talked much to the doctor. We've just arrived and he brought me straight to you."

He nodded. "I have to learn to walk again."

"You will."

"I got him though. Fiona's here. You'll have to look after her. She's in a bad state. She's in bed here. We've turned the place into a regular hospital between us."

"What happened?"

"I found him. It wasn't difficult when I knew where. I just came here. Carl and Fiona ... That was all I needed. I saw them together. It made me feel I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands. You see, it was the way he behaved to her, so loving and tender and she ... she was looking at him as though he were some god. I saw them well before they saw me. They were going out skiing and the thought hit me. He could be going to do it then. He might be going to take her out there and stage an accident. The other girl died that way ... now it was Fiona's turn. So I went after them. When Fiona saw me she cried out in dismay. Then he swung round. It was amazing to see his face. She had called out Uncle Jason ... and he knew. I said `You murdering swine ...' and I went for him. We grappled there. I knew what he was. after. He was going to send me hurtling down the slope. He knew the place. He was experienced in the snow. He had the advantage. But I was determined to get him. He had me on the edge ... and I thought, if I'm going over I'm taking him with me. He'll not have a chance to go on with his game of murder. And... together we went ..."

"You should have waited," I said. "The police would have got him. They were on the trail. They've arrested Elsa."

"When would they have got him? After he had murdered Fiona? No. We were dealing with a practised murderer, a man whose business was murder. I knew they would have come in time, but I had to be there ... right away ... as soon as I knew. I couldn't let it be too late."

"What happened to him?"

"The best thing. He was lucky. He broke his neck. I broke lots of things but my neck was intact. I landed in a heap of snow ... I was buried in it. He went onto hard rock."

"Does it upset you to talk of it?" I asked.

"No. It does me good. It's Fiona who worries me." "I'll see what I can do."

"Try to explain to her. She won't believe you, but you have to make her. I know it's hard but she can't go on shutting her eyes to the truth. Cordelia... it was wonderful of you to come. I suppose I kept asking for you when I didn't know what I was saying."

"Would you have only asked for me when you didn't know you were?"

"I knew about Epping. Eugenie has kept me well informed. I guessed the rest."

"Well, I came here instead."

"Foolish of you."

"I think it was rather wise. Do you remember you once asked me to marry you?"

He smiled faintly. "A bit of a braggart, wasn't I?"

"Is the offer still open?"

He did not answer and I went on: "Because, if it is, I've decided to accept."

"You're carried away by the emotion of the moment. Pity for the man who will never again be what he was. That is not how it should be between us. There's that paragon awaiting you. He will give you all that a woman could want."

I laughed.

"What's amusing?" he asked.

"I have been telling you for a long time that I never wanted to see you again and you were insisting that I must. Now, I'm saying I will and you are pointing out the reasons why I should marry someone else."

"What a perverse pair we are. We've changed. It's been a complete turnabout. You have left the practical schoolmistress in England and I have left the swaggering scoundrel halfway down a mountain. How can people change so much?"

"They don't. It is just little facets of their characters being revealed. Do you really love me?"

"Do I have to answer?"

"I want a clear answer."

"Oh? The schoolmistress is not far away. If it isn't the right answer, take a hundred lines. Of course I love you."

"Then the matter is settled. You may be the wicked villain with a trace of the devil in him, but haven't I always known how to cope with him?"

"Even in the Devil's Den."

We were silent. We dared not look at each other for fear of betraying the depth of our emotion. I took his hand and laid it against my cheek.

I said: "Ever since this happened I have been doing a lot of thinking about you and myself, and coming here in the train when I did not know what I was going to find, I understood myself ... my feelings ... and what I wanted. If I had found you dead, I shouldn't have cared very much about living myself. I realized that I had never felt so alive, so much in love with life, as when I was fighting with you. I mean our verbal contests. To whip up my defiance of you, that was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. I learned how dull and meaningless life would be without that. I suppose antagonism sometimes conceals attraction."

"You are talking nonsense," he said. "You are carried away by sentimentality. My dear little schoolmistress is doing what she considers the Right Thing."

"If you don't want to hear any more I'll go."

"Stay."

"That sounded like a command."

"You don't like commands. You make your own decisions."

"Yes, and I have decided that I am going to stay as long as I like. You're going to get well. I'm going to see to that, and the only way I can do it efficiently is by marrying you. There is only one thing which will stop me and that is if you tell me you don't want me."

"Listen to me," he said. "You must wait, Cordelia. You must see what has been done to me."

"You've saved Fiona's life. Remember that."

"She won't thank me."

"She will in time. Now what do you say?"

"You'd be better off with the banker."

"Shall I go back then?"

"No," he said. "Stay. Suppose you married me. How do you know I wouldn't give you a dose of laudanum?"

"I'll take the risk."

"And suppose I murdered you and put you in the fishponds, or buried your carcass in the Abbey grounds?"

"I'll take that risk too."

"Imagine the scandal! Mrs. Baddicombe will have a field day."

"I'm feeling rather grateful to Mrs. Baddicombe at the moment. I'd be quite happy to provide her with a few items for her repertoire."

"You won't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious. I'm going to see the doctor. I want to know exactly what state you're in. I'm going to stay here until I take you back with me."

I hid my face because I was afraid he would see my tears, and when I looked at him there was a kind of wonder and immeasurable joy in his face.