Time of the Hunter's Moon

In the Devil's Den

I spent a sleepless night trying to remember everything he had said. Had he really been serious? I kept seeing his face alight with enthusiasm. I thought of the way in which his eyebrows turned up slightly at the ends; the way his dark hair sprang from his rather high forehead; the brilliance of his eyes when he talked of love.

How did I feel? I could not exactly say. I was too bewildered. All I knew was that I wanted to be with him, that I had never felt so excited in my life as I had been sitting close to him, listening to his enthusiasm for the Abbey; and then when he had kissed me I had been quite unprepared.

He was very experienced; he would know what effect he had on me. Whereas I had never known anything like this before.

I was able to stand up to him in our verbal battles and that was because I had always found it easy to express myself lucidly. After all, wasn't I teaching English? It was when it came to understanding my emotions that I was a novice.

I must curb my elation. I must remind myself that he probably talked to every woman he was trying to seduce as he had to me. I was very well aware of his intentions and I must be careful.

The next day Daisy called me to her room to ask how the meeting went.

"I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night," she said, "but I gathered all went well."

"Oh yes, very well. He really wants to help with the Abbey pageant. He showed me some interesting maps and he is certainly knowledgeable about the history of the Abbey. I really think he wants to make sure we don't commit any anachronisms."

"Did he say anything about the costumes?"

"He may have mentioned them. I think he will be very happy to lend them."

"So we misjudged him really."

"Well, the girls did go off to look at horses." "So you were alone with him?"

"Not for long. That was when he showed me the maps and books."

She nodded. "By the way," she said, "something rather interesting has turned up. You know I was looking for a maid since Lizzie Garnett left last term."

"Oh yes. Have you got someone?"

"Yes, and the strange thing is that she was at Schaffenbrucken."

"Oh!"

"That was why I selected her. I had one or two to choose from. You know I put an advertisement in the Lady's Companion. I didn't have many letters. Most of them couldn't put pen to paper if they tried. It may be that those who can write wouldn't make the best maids. However, I liked the sound of this letter and the fact that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken I must admit interested me and decided me in her favour. I wonder if you knew her."

"What is her name?"

"Elsa something. Yes ... Elsa Kracken."

"Elsa," I said. "There was a maid called Elsa. But then it is a fairly common name. I don't think I ever heard her surname."

"It will be amusing if you knew her from Schaffenbrucken."

"Is she English?"

"She wrote in English. The name doesn't sound quite ..."

"Elsa," I said. "Yes ... she was rather a talkative girl ... not much of a servant but everybody liked her."

"I thought she wrote a good letter."

"When does she arrive?"

"At the end of the week."

I was thoughtful. The conversation had brought back memories of Schaffenbrucken. It was Elsa who had told us about the legend of Pilcher's Peak and that if we went out at the time of Hunter's Moon we should meet our future husbands.

It would be quite a coincidence if she should be the one. But it might well be another Elsa.

It was not long before I met her. I was coming upstairs and there she was coming down. "Elsa!" I cried. "It is you, then."

She turned so white I thought she was going to faint. She clutched at the bannister and stared at me. I might have been a ghost.

"Cordelia Grant. We met at Schaffenbrucken." "Cordelia Grant." She whispered my name. "Why ... of course."

"I confess I am not so surprised as you are," I said. "Miss Hetherington did tell me that someone named Elsa was coming and that she had worked at Schaffenbrucken. I thought of you, but didn't really believe it possibly could be."

The colour was returning to her face. She was smiling and looked more like the jolly girl I had known.

"Well, fancy that. The age of miracles is not past. What are you doing here?"

"Working," I told her. "I'm teaching."

"Oh, but I thought ..."

"It all changed. When I left school I had to find a post. My aunt knew Miss Hetherington and I came here."

"Well, I never did!"

She started to laugh. "They were good days at Schaffenbrucken," she said.

"Oh yes. You remember the girls ..."

"Your special friends. There was that French girl and the German girl and that Lydia ... wasn't that her name?"

"Yes, I think Frieda and Monique will be leaving this year. Probably have left by now. I wrote to Lydia but I didn't hear from her."

"Too busy with her affairs, I daresay."

" Pell, she left Schaffenbrucken soon after I did, I gathered."

"Oh, did she now?"

"But Elsa, where have you sprung from?"

"I came to England. I left the term after you did. I got a job over here ... that didn't last so long and then I applied for this. What a life!"

"Miss Hetherington is rather particular. You'll have to do your work properly."

"Do you mean I didn't at Schaffenbrucken?"

I only remember your doing a lot more talking than anyone else."

"Oh, this is like the old days. I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you."

"You looked as if you'd seen a ghost a moment ago."

"I was shaken all of a heap, as they say. It was such a surprise. Now I'm realizing what a nice one it is."

"We1l, I shall be seeing you about, Elsa."

"I'm looking forward to getting to know the girls. It was you girls that I liked at Schaffenbrucken.

"Miss Hetherington won't want you to be too friendly with them."

Elsa winked at me and went on downstairs.

Sir Jason sent a message over to the school to say that he had discovered some very interesting information which he thought would be very useful when compiling the commentaries for the pageant.

If Miss Grant would care to come over he would be delighted to show them to her.

Daisy called me to her study to tell me. She immediately noticed my embarrassment.

She said: "I think you ought to go, but take Miss Barston with you. I do think he is trying to become too friendly and one has to be careful. I haven't told you about Miss Lyons, have I? That was some years ago. She was a pretty dainty little thing. She taught dancing-that was before Mr. Bathurst's time. Sir Jason noticed her. I don't know what happened. He pursued her a bit and the poor child was most unworldly. She must have believed all he told her. She was very unhappy when she discovered the sort of relationship he was after. Of course his fancy for her was only passing. You and I know what such men are, but poor Hilda Lyons believed in beautiful romance. She became quite depressed and almost suicidal. I had to send her away-and in the middle of term! You are a different kettle of fish." She smiled with rare humour. "Not that I am really comparing you with that useful object. It is just in the nature of the metaphor. I know you will take great care. He has a fancy for you but you are not in the least like poor Hilda ... or that Martindale woman for that matter. He evidently likes variety and has all his lines in the river at once ... if you know what I mean."

"I think I understand very well," I said. "I think, too, that I know how to deal with Sir Jason."

"The rather annoying part of all this is that we have to, as they say, keep on the right side of him. If he became spiteful ... imagine what he could do."

"In spite of his many failings I don't think he would be that."

"Oh?"

"Well, I was thinking of all the gossip in the town about him over his wife's death and his association with Mrs. Martindale. He knows it and yet he is very lenient with those people. I suppose he could put the fear of God into them if he wanted to."

"H'm," said Daisy. "Well, my dear, you can't very well refuse to go, and Miss Barston will be a good chaperone."

"I'll go over this afternoon."

"That's right. If you go about two you can be back at four. I believe you have a class at four thirty." "Yes. The last of the day."

The matter was closed as far as Daisy was concerned. I must admit that I was not altogether displeased to be riding over to the Hall, although every day it seemed I learned something more about him and it was mostly derogatory. Now the dainty pretty Hilda Lyons had put in an appearance.

Mrs. Keel greeted us. No doubt she had her instructions.

"I was to take you to the rooms which Sir Jason particularly wanted you to see. He will be with you in five or ten minutes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Keel."

"He will be glad Miss Barston has come. He has something special to show her. It is in the library. I'll take you there, Miss Barston, and then you can join Miss Grant when you have seen them."

"I shall be most interested to see whatever it is," said Miss Barston.

Mrs. Keel took us to the library where several old manuscripts were laid out on the table. Miss Barston was immediately absorbed.

"I'll just take Miss Grant up and come for you later, Miss Barston, when you've had time to look through those papers. There are some drawings there of costumes ... last century, I think Sir Jason said. Miss Grant, will you come with me?"

I followed her out of the library. We went along a corridor and came to a stone staircase.

"I don't know whether you have been to this part of the house before, Miss Grant."

I said I hadn't.

"This staircase leads to a set of apartments which we don't use. They have a historical significance, Sir Jason says."

"How interesting."

Mrs. Keel opened a door. I was in a long low room with heavy beams across the ceiling. The windows were small but we were at the top of the house and it was fairly light.

"It's quite an apartment," said Mrs. Keel. "A Little separate from the rest of the house. I'll bring Miss Barston up when she's finished with the drawings."

She went out leaving me a Little uneasy.

"Well, why have you brought me here?"

"I knew you'd want to see it. You were so interested when I told you the story."

"What story was that?"

"About our devilish ancestors. This is said to be the apartment where our satanic prisoner was kept when the wicked Verringer was trying to force him to marry his daughter. It's called the Devil's Den."

"Very interesting," I said. "Is that all you wanted to show me?"

"I have a great deal to show you."

"Then I am sure Miss Barston will be interested too. Shouldn't she be brought up?"

"You wouldn't spoil her pleasure in those magnificent drawings. These rooms are used on certain occasions only. Would you like me to tell you about it?"

"Yes."

"There is said to be a certain quality ... an aura ... about them. Perhaps you can sense it."

I looked round the room. What I was aware of was the isolation, and those bars across the window of the bedroom gave it a somewhat sinister atmosphere.

"There is said to be an aphrodisiacal ambience in these rooms ... something which was left by the Devil when he honoured us."

I laughed to hide my uneasiness. I was embarrassed that he should talk to me in this manner and I guessed he was leading up to something which put me on my guard and yet at the same time excited me. There was something about him which was different from anyone else I had ever known and, while it alarmed me, it fascinated me.

"The story goes back into the past," he went on. "If childless couples slept here, it was said, they were sure of ... fertility. Such an important person as the Devil couldn't live somewhere for even a short space of time without leaving something behind, could he?"

"Well, I suppose if you believe that sort of thing it is very interesting."

"You would believe, wouldn't you?"

"No."

"What about your stranger in the forest? You see, at some time we all have odd inexplicable experiences. Mrs. Keel always comes up here with the servants when they clean. She says the silly girls imagine things. One of them said she saw the Devil and he forced her to get into the bed with him. It turned out to be that she had been sporting with one of the stable boys and as he would have none of it, the Devil seemed a good substitute."

"You see, people fit these legends to suit themselves."

"My brother and I used to come up here sometimes. We stayed here one night ... just to show we were not afraid. Then he wagered me that I wouldn't sleep here alone."

"And of course you did and saw the Devil."

"Yes and no. I came, but his Satanic Majesty did not deign to put in an appearance on that night." "I am sure Miss Barston would love to see it. Shall we go down to her?"

"I have instructed Mrs. Keel regarding Miss Barston."

"There doesn't seem to be anything much to see up here," I said. "Apart from the legend it might be an ordinary apartment."

"There is so much I want you to see."

"Well, show me."

"It is a matter of understanding. You know how very much I am attracted by you."

"I have noticed that you are inclined to appear rather frequently."

"How else could I get you to realize what a fine fellow I am?"

"You don't have to appear so frequently to keep me informed of that. I am constantly hearing of you. As we have said before, you are the main topic of conversation in the neighbourhood. But what I can only call your waylaying me and contriving meetings like this is rather embarrassing. You really must understand that I am not one of your Mrs. Martindales or Miss Lyons ..."

"Good Heavens!" he said. "That goes back a long way."

"You can be sure it was duly noted when it occurred."

"Obviously. Hilda Lyons, a pretty little thing but no conversationalist."

"She was a schoolmistress, I believe. Understandably she lacked the glamour of someone like Mrs. Martindale."

"Not necessarily. Take Miss Grant for instance." "It is her future which interests me most." "And me," he said, looking earnest suddenly.

I stood up but he was beside me. He put an arm about me.

"Please ... don't touch me."

He took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him.

"You have a tremulous mouth," he said. "It betrays you." Then he kissed me. He frightened me. I felt he was going to crush my body. It was such a violent embrace.

I fought him off.

"You are insufferable ..." I panted.

"Which is rather nice, eh?"

"Please do not use those tactics with me."

"I know you are not Mrs. Martindale or yet Miss Lyons. You are far more attractive... far more passionate ... far more desirable than either."

"Your past mistresses are of no interest to me."

"You do not always speak the truth do you? I thought schoolmistresses were supposed to. I'll tell you something. They are of the utmost interest to you."

"Do you always tell people what they must think, what they must do?"

"Always."

"Not in this case."

"I realize I shall have to work hard on it."

"And bring no results. I am going down now. And please do not bring me here again on false pretences. I shall not come. You may take what revenge you like. I am not coming when you beckon."

"Then I shall have to resort to pleading."

"Nothing will make me come here again."

"Don't make rash vows, Cordelia, because you are the sort of woman who would hate to break them. Come and sit down. I promise I won't kiss you, touch you, or do anything which could cause offence while we talk."

"Please say what you have to say and say it quickly."

"You are a very attractive girl. You have all the social graces. After all, didn't you spend-how many years was it?-at that place in Switzerland? Perhaps it has done something. I don't know. I suppose that firmness of character, that unswerving desire to do what is right, were there all the time. What they have done is turn you into a young lady who would grace any circles."

"Well?"

"Even a place like this."

"Really!" I said with sarcasm.

"I mean it."

"Then I am indeed flattered, and on that note I will take my departure."

"I have not finished yet and, as you have learned at that magnificent place whose name for the moment escapes me, young ladies do not move away when their hosts are speaking to them. They stay and listen and appear to be animated; in fact they give the impression of paying attention even though their thoughts are far away. Is that correct?"

"It is."

"Then follow the rules of the school. I might even marry you."

"Really, sir. Your condescension overwhelms me. But I should have to decline."

"Why?"

"I should have thought that was obvious, and polite young ladies never talk of unpleasant matters."

"Look at this place. You would be in your element. After all what was the business of Schaffenbrucken if not to prepare you to take your place at the head of some rich man's table?"

"So you have remembered the name. I am so glad. That was indeed the purpose of Schaffenbrucken, but there are always the rogue pupils who are meant for another destiny."

"You mean school teaching?"

"In some cases, obviously, yes.

"Don't be foolish, Cordelia. You are not going to teach silly girls all your life, are you? Are you going to be another Miss Hetherington?"

"Miss Hetherington is a very great lady. If I were like her, I should think I had done rather well."

"Nonsense. You're not a schoolmarm underneath. Don't think I don't know women."

"I think you know a great deal about them ... physically. Mentally I imagine you know very little. Certainly you do not seem to know much about me."

"You'd be surprised. You are at the moment the virgin schoolmistress ... prim, clinging to conventions, completely ignorant of the world. My dear Cordelia, beneath that schoolmistress is a passionate woman eager to escape ... to life."

I laughed and he laughed with me, but he said with feigned reproach: "You find me amusing?"

"Very. And I know your interest in me is directed to one goal."

"You are right."

"And that goal is seduction. Do you have formulae? This one for Marcia Martindale. This for Miss Lyons. Now here is Cordelia Grant. Which number for her?"

"You are very cynical. Don't you give me credit for any deep feelings?"

"No."

"My dear girl, you do delight me, you know. Really, I would marry you."

"Aren't you being rather rash. A penniless schoolmistress ..."

"I have no need of money."

"Nor have I. I am content with what I have. So you see it is no use your bringing me here and in your satanic manner showing me the riches which would be mine."

"Everyone likes riches."

"One can do much with money, yes. But in this case think of the price one would have to pay to be Lady Verringer, and grace your halls. You!"

"You are unconvincing. You are trembling with excitement at the prospect."

"That's not excitement," I retorted. "It's rage." I rose but he gripped my arm firmly and forced me to sit down.

"You know my problem. I need an heir. A son ..." "I have heard that mentioned too."

"I want a son. I would marry you if you would give me a son."

I stared at him incredulously and then I said: "Oh ... I understand now. You want proof before you commit yourself. How wise! Other people marry and hope for children, but that is not the way of the Verringers. Am I right?" I burst out laughing. "I can't help it," I went on. "I just pictured your chosen women ... kept at Rooks' Rest until they showed what they could do. Like a harem or a Restoration play perhaps. Imagine it."

He was trying not to laugh but he couldn't help it and for a moment we gave ourselves up to our mirth.

I said: "It will be most amusing. At present you only have one there. That's very tame. I can see them all in various stages. Who shall produce the boy and win the prize? Poor Marcia. Hers was only a girl. What a shame!"

I had seized the opportunity and made for the door. He was there before me and stood with his back to it facing me.

He said: "Cordelia, I want you. I fall more and more in love with you every time we meet. It's important to me."

He stood aside and I tried to open the door. It was locked.

I turned to him; he was smiling at me and I thought: Yes, indeed, they are sons of the devil. I was really frightened now because I saw the purpose in his face, and I knew he was even capable ... of this.

"Well," he said, mockingly. "What now?"

"You will open this door," I said, trying to sound firm but being somewhat unconvincing I was afraid. "No, Miss Grant, I will not."

"Let me out of here at once."

"No, Miss Grant."

"You lured me up here."

"You came willingly with my housekeeper. "What is she ... a sort of procuress?"

"She is obedient to my wishes as I expect all my servants to be. You are not so cairn now, are you, Cordelia? Do I sense little tremors of expectation? I will show you what you were meant to be. We'll call forth that wonderful passionate woman. We'll let her sweep aside the prim schoolmistress."

"You will let me out of here at once."

He shook his head. "I have wanted you for a long time. I wanted you ... willing."

"Willing? Do you think ...?"

"Once you really know how happy I can make you, yes. But you are rather stubborn, aren't you. That schoolmistress façade is quite formidable. I began to see that I should have to help you break out."

With trembling hands I looked at the watch which was pinned to my blouse.

"Always the time!" he said. "What do we care for time on occasions like this?"

"I should be leaving now."

"Not yet."

"Don't you realize ...?"

"I realize one thing. It obsesses me. I want you and if you are so stubborn as to turn away from what is the best thing for you, I shall have to insist on bringing you to reason."

"I hate you," I said. "Can't you see that. You expect every woman to fall into your arms. Not this one. And if you dare touch me, you are acting like a criminal and I shall see that you are punished for it."

"What fire!" he taunted. "What rage! Cordelia, you and I are lovers ..."

"Haters for my part," I spat out.

"If you are going to fight ... fight. But you will soon see how much stronger I am than you. Come, let me take your coat. You look flushed and overheated. My dear love, Cordelia, you are going to be so happy ... We both are."

He was forcing me out of my coat. I kicked out at him and he laughed.

"Are you really capable of this?" I stammered. "I am not one of your servants, you know, or one of your tenants who are afraid to stand up to you. My family will avenge this and so will I. Rape is not within the law, Jason Verringer, even for men like you."

He took me by the shoulders and laughed at me. "I would insist that you came here willingly, that you provoked me, enticed me, which is true."

"You are a fiend."

"I warned you of my great ancestor."

Catching him suddenly off his guard, I broke away from him. I ran to the window. There were no bars across this one. He was close behind me and in desperation I beat on the glass with my bare hands.

The glass shattered. The blood ran down my arms onto the sleeves of my dress, spattering my bodice.

"Oh my God," he cried. He was sobered. "Oh Cordelia," he went on almost sadly. "Do you hate me so much?"

I felt bewildered. My emotions were so mixed that I did not know what I felt. I was afraid of him, yes, but at the same time I wanted to be with him. It was a thought I would not admit into my mind but I did believe half of me wanted him to carry me into the room with the barred windows. Yet I had made this futile attempt to break the windows to escape. I was brought face to face with the fact that I did not know myself.

He was looking at my bleeding hands and his mood had changed. It was all tenderness now. He said: "Oh Cordelia, my dear Cordelia!" and held me against him for a few seconds. I drew away from him. I could feel the tears on my cheeks. I wanted him to hold me tightly and to tell me that in some ways he knew me better than I knew myself. I was not the practical schoolmistress I made myself out to be. There was some part of me striving to get out.

He had taken my hands in his. "There must be attended to immediately," he said.

He put an arm about me and led me to the door; and taking a key from his pocket unlocked it.

We went downstairs. Mrs. Keel came out of the library with Miss Barston behind her.

Miss Barston said: "We shall be late, Miss Grant. Oh ..." She had seen my wounds.

"There's been an accident," said Jason Verringer. "Miss Grant cut her hands on a window. Mrs. Keel, get something to put on this ... some bandages .. . You have some lotions ..."

"Yes, Sir Jason."

I sat down on a chair. I was aware of Miss Barston's scrutiny. Jason was quite calm. I was amazed and my anger against him returned.

"You do look queer, Miss Grant," said Miss Barston. "You have cut yourself badly..."

"I don't think it is as bad as it looks," said Jason. "When the blood is washed away we'll see what harm has been done. The cuts don't appear to be so very deep. The great thing is to clean the wounds. Mrs. Keel is quite knowledgeable about these things. There are often such accidents in the kitchen and she always manages to deal with them. How do you feel, Miss Grant? Ah, you look better now. Mrs. Keel won't be long." He turned to Miss Barston. "I was showing Miss Grant one of the apartments tied up in our family legends ... We were saying you would be interested to see it. Then this happened. I'll send someone over to Miss Hetherington to tell her you'll be a little late returning. Then you can wait and go back with Miss Grant in the carriage. Miss Grant is certain to feel a little shaken after this. One of the grooms can take your horses over when he goes with the message to Miss Hetherington."

How neatly he explained everything and how lightly he managed to introduce normality into the accident. I admired him while I deplored his expert manner in extricating us from an embarrassing situation. No doubt he had had a great deal of practice. I hated him for his suggestion and for his attempt to force me, and I was really rather amazed that he had so quickly given up his intentions at the sight of my blood.

I hated him, I assured myself vehemently ... far too vehemently.

I was completely shattered by the experience and could not bring myself to talk of it. I answered questions as briefly as I could. Sir Jason had been showing me some of the apartments, I had unthinkingly put out my hands and broken the glass, cutting myself. Yes, certainly I had felt most embarrassed. I did not know whether it was particularly valuable glass. Yes, I must have put my hands out with some force. No, Sir Jason did not seem put out. He was most concerned about the damage I had done to myself. His housekeeper had bound up my wounds after carefully washing them and applying something; and Sir Jason had sent us back in his carriage.

Daisy looked at me quizzically, but she did not probe. I think she had some idea that if she did, something unpleasant might emerge and wisely she left it alone.

I was excused lessons for a day.

"That sort of thing is a bit of a shock," said Daisy.

So I lay on my bed alone in my room and went over everything that had happened. The man was a monster, that much was clear. I must never be alone with him again. I had saved myself from what was called "a fate worse than death". The phrase had always made me laugh but I was a little more sober about it now. My imagination would not give me any rest. I kept thinking of what would have happened if I had not put my hands through the glass. I dreaded that happening ... or did I?

What had he said about a prim schoolmistress? Was I one? I supposed I was to some extent. My post made me so and I should get more so every day. I saw myself years ahead-white-haired, dignified like Daisy Hetherington ... and as efficient. I could be sure of that, even though I did have my foolish moments. Had Daisy ever ...?

Alone with my thoughts I could at moments be honest. He was right. There was another woman beneath the schoolmistress. He knew she was there and he had done his best to release her. Yet he had been halted in his determination by the sight of a little blood. There had been a concern, a tenderness ... Oh, how foolish. I was trying to make excuses for him.

Stop thinking of him, I admonished myself. And never give him such an opportunity again.

It was three days after the incident. My wounds were healing thanks to the prompt treatment I had received and the lotion Mrs. Keel had given me. I felt calmer, getting more in command of myself, telling myself that I had given up to foolish , emotions because I had been overwrought.

I saw him now as he was - an arrogant sensual rake who thought any woman who appealed to him was fair game.

Not this one, I said to myself firmly.

I went into the town and called at the post office to buy stamps. Mrs. Baddicombe was serving someone but she looked up with pleasure at the sight of me.

She finished serving and waited until the bell over the shop door rang as the customer left.

"Well, Miss Grant, it is nice to see 'ee. How's the hands? I heard about your accident. Nasty, wasn't I flushed slightly. Did the woman know everything?

"They're getting better," I said. "It wasn't very much."

"And all is well with the young ladies? Have you heard the news?"

"News? What news?"

"She be gone ... disappeared ... gone clean away."

"Who would that be?"

"That Mrs. Martindale, of course."

"Where has she gone?"

"That's what we'd like to know."

"I believe she pays frequent visits to London." "Well, this time she be gone for good and all." "How do you know?"

"The house be all shut up and Mrs. Keel at the Hall has sent servants down to clean it up. They do say Gerald Coverdale be going to move in. That house of his ain't big enough now he be married with two children. They say he have had his eyes on it for some time. It can only mean she's gone for good."

"But how can you be sure?"

"I had her what does for the Coverdales in here only this morning. She says Sir Jason has told 'em they can move in when they like. I do wonder what's happened to her ... that Mrs. Martindale."

"I don't think she can have gone off just like that."

Mrs. Baddicombe lifted her shoulders. "There's no knowing. She was got rid of fast."

There was speculation in Mrs. Baddicombe's inquisitive little eyes and I felt I could not remain in her shop. I wanted to get away to think about what she had said. What was she hinting?

I said quietly and quickly: "I expect we shall know in due course. I just wanted some stamps, please Mrs. Baddicombe. I have to get back quickly."

I came out into the sunshine. A sudden fear had seized me. Why? Surely if Marcia Martindale wanted to leave in a hurry, there was nothing in that to arouse my concern.

Miss Hetherington called a conference to discuss what she grandiloquently called "The Pageant". She reminded us all that time was short and it would be most effective if it took place on Midsummer's Eve. That left us about a month for preparation, which was not long, but she did not care for these things to go on too long because they had a way of interfering with school work, as we had seen recently in the case of Cinderella.

"We have some costumes," she said. "Those which have been used in previous pageants, and Sir Jason Verringer has promised to lend us others. Naturally we must have monks ... and some of the seniors can take those parts. The smaller girls will look incongruous in the habits. We shall do the usual three-act piece. The beginning leading to the Dissolution; the Elizabethan age and revival; and today with the school. All the girls can take part in singing the school song, etc. If it is warm and fine it will take place out of doors. There will be a full moon, which is ideal. The tains will make a wonderful setting. I hope and pray it will not be wet. Then it will have to be in the refectory hall or perhaps Sir Jason would offer us the ball-room at the Hall. That is really very suitable but I should have to wait for him to offer. Mr. Crowe, you could get down to work on the singing. There should be quite a lot of that so that everyone can foin in. Miss Eccles, you could do the settings, and Miss Grant of course will choose the pieces for recitation and direct the players. Miss Parker, I think for the fmal part they might do a few attractive physical exercises. We could have a few folk dances, Mr. Bathurst. We must make an interesting evening and, if it is a success, we could repeat the highlights just before break-up when the parents could come. Not many of them would want to make the journey in mid-term even to see their offspring perform. The thing is to get into action without delay. Any questions?"

There were a few and there was no talk of anything else in the school but the pageant. I threw myself into it with fervour, trying to forget those alarming yet stimulating moments in the Devil's Den. I knew that he had been on the verge of treating me barbarously and I continued to be amazed that the sight of my injuries had had such an immediate effect on him and brought out that little decency which must be in him. Perhaps he had really believed until then that I had wanted him to seize me, to possess me as he had clearly threatened to do. Perhaps I did. Yet, I had made that desperate gesture, almost without thinking, for it would have been quite impossible for me to have escaped by the window.

I could not forget it. It was there in my dreams.

And now Marcia Martindale had gone. What could that mean?

He called at the school and was closeted with Miss Hetherington in her study. I was summoned with Eileen Eccles. I avoided looking at him as much as possible. He asked about my hands and I told him they were recovering fast. We talked about the pageant, and I believe I was quite cool and certainly aloof. He tried to make me look at him and it was almost as though he were pleading for forgiveness.

Daisy went to the gates to see him off and during the next days I did not go out riding alone. I was afraid of meeting him and I kept reminding myself that I must never again be alone with him.

I learned from Teresa that the new maid, Elsa, was voted "very jolly" by most of the girls. She was not like the others. She never complained about untidy bedrooms and, when she knew that Miss Hetherington was going to make an inspection, she had hastened into Charlotte's room and tidied up. They thought that was "very sporting".

She seemed to like that threesome particularly and was always gossiping with Fiona, Eugenie and Charlotte. I was surprised, for Charlotte was not the sort to talk to servants but evidently even she had been won over by Elsa.

"I remember her well," I told Teresa. "She was like that at Schaffenbrucken, a great favourite with the girls."

It must have been about a week after the departure

"Marcia Martindale that the rumours started. Mrs. Baddicombe, I was sure, had kept up her comments on the strangeness of the situation, and en one of the baker's boys delivering to the post office told her that he had driven his cart past Rocks' Rest and seen a lady standing at the door with a child in her arms, Mrs. Baddicombe was determined to wring as much drama as she could from the situation.

The lady seen by the boy was probably Mrs. Coverdale who had a young child, and it was quite natural that she should be at the door holding her youngest child in her arms.

However, Mrs. Baddicombe would not accept such a simple explanation.

"Poor Tom Yeo! He was struck all of a heap. Said his hair stood on end. She was surrounded by a misty light, and she held up her hands as though calling for help."

"I hope she didn't drop the child," I said. "And why didn't Tom Yeo go to help her or at least see what she wanted?"

"Why, bless you, Miss Grant, have you ever tome face to face with that what's not natural?" "No," I admitted.

"If you had, you'd understand. Poor Tom, he just whipped up his horse and got off fast as he could." "But the Coverdales have moved in, haven't they?

"Well, she did go rather sudden, didn't she?" "Mrs. Baddicombe," I said seriously, "You ought to be careful."

She drew herself up and looked at me suspiciously. "Careful? Me? Ain't I always careful?"

"I'd like to know what you're hinting."

"Plain as the nose on your face, Miss. She comes here ... and then when she's not wanted no more ... she goes."

"Not wanted?"

Mrs. Baddicombe smirked. "I read between the lines ..." she said.

"And compose the script," I added angrily. She looked at me blankly.

"Good day, Mrs. Baddicombe," I said.

I was trembling as I stood outside the shop. I thought how foolish I had been. I should now be cut off from the information she had to offer; and although half of it might be false, I wanted to hear what was said.

The extent of my foolishness was obvious when Eileen Eccles met me in the calefactory and said: "You're becoming involved in the dramas of Colby, Cordelia. The Sibyl of the post office whispered to me that she thinks you are `sweet on' Sir Jason Verringer, and she has known for some time that he had his eyes on you, and ain't it a funny thing that poor Mrs. Martindale, who has had her hopes raised for so long, should, as if by magic, disappear when she is not wanted."

"What nonsense!" I said flushing scarlet.

"The trouble with that sort of talk is that it often has an element of truth in it. I certainly think the libidinous Sir J. has had his eyes on you, and there is no doubt that at one time Mrs. Martindale was his very good friend. So far so good. On this flimsy foundation Mrs. B. weaves her fantasies. Nonsense, yes, but founded on a certain fact, and that is where the danger lies."

"You're warning me," I said.

She put her head on one side and regarded me 'with mock seriousness. "You know best what you have to do," she said. "All I can say is that he has a reputation of sorts. There were rumours about his wife's death. Now there are rumours about the disappearance, as they call it, of his lady friend. He is rumour-prone, and in our profession rumour can kill careers. I would advise ... but I expect that you know as well as I do that advice is something to be given freely and taken only if it suits the recipient's inclinations. I'd keep away from him, and after the Kummer holidays it may have died down."

I looked fondly at Eileen. She was a good friend and a sensible woman. I wanted to tell her that I needed no warning. I had decided never to be alone with Jason Verringer again.

Miss Hetherington summoned me to her study. She was so disturbed that she was unable to hide it completely and was slightly less than her usual ruffled self.

"A disgraceful display!" she said. "I've sent for you, Cordelia, because Teresa is your special protégée."

"Teresa! What has she done?"

"She has attacked another girl."

"Attacked!"

"Indeed yes. Physically ... attacked!"

"What girl? Why?"

"The girl in question is Charlotte Mackay. The reason neither of them will say. I expect it is some trivial disagreement, but that a pupil of mine should actually resort to violence ..."

"I can't believe that of Teresa. She is really rather gentle."

"She has been more assertive of late. She threw a shoe at Charlotte Mackay which hit her above the temple. There is quite a deep cut. The girls were frightened when they saw blood and called Miss Parker who happened to be passing."

"Where are they now?"

"Charlotte is lying down. Fortunately it missed her eye. Heaven knows what damage might have been done. As it is, thank God, it is only a cut. Teresa is locked in the punishment room. I shall decide her punishment later. But what shocks me is that there could be such behaviour here. I only hope the parents don't hear of it."

"Shall I go and see Teresa?"

"She is very sullen and refuses to say anything. She sits there with her lips tightly shut having said that Charlotte deserved it."

"Charlotte is, of course, a very aggravating girl. Her character is not the most pleasant and I know that in the past she has teased Teresa a good deal."

"The girl never attacked her before."

"No ..."

"She's got a lot more spirit than she had, and I thought that was a good thing. No... I'm not so sure. Yes, go and see her, and try to find out the reason for this extraordinary and unacceptable conduct."

I unlocked the door of the punishment room. It was a small cell-like place which had been used for storage by the lay brothers. The rather repelling name suited it. There were three desks there and a table and chair. Girls were sent there to learn or write lines, and it was used when an offence was considered more than a venial one.

Teresa was Sitting at one of the desks.

"Teresa!" I cried.

She stood up uncertainly and looked at me almost defiantly.

"Tell me about it," I said. "I'm sure there is an explanation."

"I hate Charlotte Mackay," she said.

"You don't really. She's just a silly arrogant girl most of the time."

"I hate her," she said. "She's wicked."

"Tell me exactly what happened."

She was silent.

"Miss Hetherington wants an explanation, you know."

Still she was silent.

"There must be a reason. Was it perhaps some little thing, and you remembered all your anger with her in the past ...? Was it the last straw?"

She said: "It wasn't little."

"What was it then?"

Again that silence.

"Perhaps if you could explain, Miss Hetherington would understand. She is just, you know. If you have a good reason she will realize that for the moment you lost control. We all know how trying Charlotte can be."

But she would not tell me. I tried again and again but although I was sure of her affection for me I could get nothing out of her.

"She's wicked," was all she would say. "She's wicked and a liar and I hate her. I'm glad I did it."

"Don't tell Miss Hetherington that. You must be penitent and say you're sorry and you must never do such a thing again. I daresay you'll have some lines to write after this. You'll probably have to spend all day tomorrow here doing your penance."

"I don't care. I'm glad I hurt her."

I sighed. That was not the right attitude, and I was very disconcerted that Teresa refused to tell even me what had happened.

I had to go back to Daisy and admit defeat.

Uneasy days passed. Charlotte made the most of her injury. Once I went to her bedroom and found Fiona and Eugenie there with Elsa. They were sitting on the beds laughing.

It was hard to reprove them when I remembered that only a short time ago I might have figured in such a scene at Schaffenbrucken.

I continued to avoid Jason Verringer but I did go out alone sometimes. When I rode into the town I took a long route round so that I did not go too near the Hall. This led me past Rooks' Rest. I saw signs of activity there and guessed the Coverdales were moving in.

I hesitated about going into the post office but should have to do so one day, and the time came when I boldly went in. Mrs. Baddicombe was overjoyed to see me. She showed no rancour over my coldness during our previous encounter. She kept me waiting until she had served two customers and then gave me that lively curious look and leaned over the counter with an air of intimacy.

"Nice to see you, Miss Grant. I hear there's to be grand doings up at the school with that pageant."

"Oh yes," I replied. "It's the anniversary of the building of the Abbey so a rather special occasion."

"Fancy that! All them years ago. I was saying to Mrs. Taylor when she was in this morning that I wondered how the little mite Miranda was getting on. Happy enough, I'll bet. That Jane Gittings dotes on her and so does Ada Whalley."

"Who is Ada Whalley?"

"Jane's sister. The Whalleys lived here in Colby for years. Old Billy Whalley was manager of the cider place. Did well for himself. Brought up on the moors he were and the girls was with their grandmother there when they was little. When he retired he went to the cottage on the moors. His mother was dead then. Jane had married Gittings and Ada went with him to keep house for him. Down at Bristonleigh, it was, right on the edge of the Moor. They were always talking about the Moor, those Whalleys were. Percy Billings was sweet on Ada at one time, but nothing came of it because she had to look after the old man and then Percy all of a sudden marries Jenny Markey."

"Quite a little saga."

"Well so it be, me dear. Ada would have made a good mother. I'll reckon she'll look after that little Miranda, her and Jane Gittings between them. Jane didn't have no children neither. Funny how some 'as 'em and some don't ... and it's more likely them that don't want them as gets them. Look at Sophie Prestwick. Easy to see what she's been up to. There'll have to be a quick wedding there, mark my words. So Sophie larks about and gets caught .. . and them that wants 'em can't get 'em. Take Sir Jason for instance ..."

She was looking at me slyly.

I told her what stamps I wanted, and almost reluctantly she took out her folder and gave them to me.

"Well, be seeing things won't we, now the lady in the case has passed on, you might say."

"Passed on?"

"We don't know where to, do we? All we know is that she ain't with us now. I'll tell you one thing, Miss Grant, nothing stands still does it? Life moves on. I often say to myself: well, I wonder what next?" "You seem to be well informed on everything that goes on," I said ironically.

"It's in the nature of the post office, you might say. As I always say to Baddicombe: There's not much to this job ... you work hard and you don't get much ... but I says to him, I says: There's people ... and that's what makes it worthwhile."

She raised her eyes and with the air of a benefactress to mankind, put her folder in a drawer.

I went out feeling relieved that she had shown no displeasure and wondered whether at our last meeting she had even grasped my disapproval.

In the afternoon I went for a walk through the ruins, keeping a wary eye out for Jason Verringer in case he had decided to take a walk there. He might easily do so for I guessed he was trying to catch me, and would do so sooner or later.

I came to the ponds and looked at their waters rushing to the falls as they reached their lower depths. They made a soothing sound and I walked along beside them to the river and then started to wander along its bank.

I realized that I must turn back or be late so I retraced my steps and, as I came in sight of the fishponds, I saw Teresa.

I called to her and she came running towards me. "Are you taking a walk too?" I asked.

"Yes. I saw you coming this way."

"We have to start back now. I mustn't be late for class, nor must you. Did you manage your lines?"

"Oh yes. I had to learn `Once more unto the breach' right down to `God for Harry, England and St George'."

"Quite a long piece."

"I knew most of it already."

"Oh, Teresa, I'm sorry that happened. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

She nodded firmly.

I sighed. "I thought you might have felt you could confide in me."

She remained silent and a look of mulish obstinacy crossed her face.

We walked in silence.

"Have you a part in the pageant?" I asked.

"No. Well, only at the end ... doing exercises and singing the school song. Miss Grant ... there is something I want to ask you."

I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought: Now she is going to tell me what Charlotte had dope to offend her so deeply.

"Well, Teresa?"

"It's hard to say because I think you like him .. . I think you like him quite a lot."

"Who? What do you mean?"

"It's about Mrs. Martindale."

I felt my voice shake a little as I said: "What about her?"

"I-I think she's dead. I-I think she was murdered."

"Teresa! How can you say such a thing. You really mustn't."

"I haven't told anyone else."

"I should hope not."

She stopped and putting her band in her pocket held it out to me. As the fingers unclosed I saw an earring. It was so bizarre and colourful that I immediately recognized it.

"It was hers," she said. "I saw her wearing it."

"Well?"

"I found it here ... by the ponds ... It must have come off ... in a struggle."

"My dear Teresa, you are imagining too much. You're like Mrs. Baddicombe."

"It's her earring. I know because Eugenie had it to return to her not long ago. She showed it to us then. I found this ... down there by the water .. . She must have dropped it."

"Well, she dropped it. She lost it. People do lose earrings and the fact that she lost this one before shows that there was something faulty about it."

"I think this dropped off when she was thrown into the river."

"Teresa! What has come over you? First you attack Charlotte Mackay and now you are making these wild accusations about ... about whom, Teresa?"

"About him. I'm afraid you like him, Miss Grant. I know that women are supposed to. But don't .. . I - I ... can't bear it that he should ... talk to you ... and bring you into all this. It spoils everything ... all the fun we have with Aunt Patty and Violet. Miss Grant, please don't take any notice of him. He's a wicked man. Eugenie says ..."

"Have you said anything to anyone about this, Teresa?"

She shook her head violently.

"Promise me you won't."

She nodded firmly.

"It's nonsense," I went on. "There is a lot of evil gossip. Mrs. Martindale left because she was tired of the country."

"Why didn't she say she was going?"

"Why should she? It was no concern of anyone but herself. No doubt she told anyone who would be concerned."

"Oh, Miss Grant, don't be in it. Let them do what they like, but let us stay away from it. Let's think about the summer and the bees and the flowers and Aunt Patty's hats and Violet's apple pies."

"Teresa, calm down," I said. "You are imagining all this. I shouldn't be surprised if Mrs. Martindale came back."

"She can't. He wouldn't have her. He's finished with her now. That's what he's like. He casts off people when he's finished with them ... and kills them. There was his first wife."

"This is all so much gossip."

"It's true."

"No."

"It is true," said Teresa, "and I'm afraid. I don't want you-"

I put my arm round her. "I am not concerned in this," I said soothingly. "This man is nothing to do with us. He just happens to own the Abbey lands, that's all. Everything is as it was before. You're coming home with me for the summer holidays and we'll have a wonderful time."

"Oh yes ... yes."

"Make sure you don't do anything that might make Miss Hetherington angry. She might decide to punish you by keeping you at school."

Teresa had turned white.

I said quickly: "Oh, she wouldn't do that. But don't run the risk. And, Teresa, not a word of this to anyone. It's not true ... but it would be wrong to talk of it. You haven't, have you?"

"Oh no, no."

"And that earring ..."

She held out her palm. It lay there, the ruby a vivid red glistening in the sunshine.

I wondered what should be done with it and what effect it would have if people knew it had been found by the fish ponds.

I did not have to wonder long for with a quick movement Teresa lifted her arm and flung the earring into the water.

Shocked, I turned to her. "Teresa," I cried. "Why did you do that?"

"It's all over," she said. "Don't let's say any more about it. I won't ... if you don't."

I felt very disturbed and at the same time relieved that I did not have to take some action about the earring. Quietly we walked back to the school. I thought Teresa seemed calmer and happier than she had since the affair with Charlotte.