The Captive

The Sailor’s Grave

The visit to the Major appeared to have been a great success in more ways than one. Kate became more friendly. I had liked the Major and she had made up her mind that the Major liked me; and as he was a hero in her eyes, I rose considerably in her estimation.

She talked of him freely, telling me of the wonderful adventures he had had, how he had fought battles singlehanded and was solely responsible for the success of the British Empire. Kate could never do or think anything halfheartedly.

But I was delighted by the growing friendship between us.

Lessons had become quite painless. It had been a wise stroke to introduce her to books with a good strong narrative. We had almost finished Treasure Island and The Count of Monte Cristo was lying in wait for us.

I used the books blatantly as a sort of unconscious bribe.

“Well, I know these sums are a little difficult, but when we get them right, we’ll see what’s going to happen to Ben Gunn.”

My success with her amazed me as much as everyone else. I was beginning to see that Kate was more than a rebellious girl bent on making trouble. I supposed there were reasons behind everything. And I was determined to discover more about her.

Through all this I did not forget for one moment the reason why I was here. I wished I could see the Major alone. It would be difficult to ask leading questions in Kate’s presence. She was already a little suspicious because of my intense interest in the murder. I could not call on the Major, of course.

Perhaps, I told myself, the opportunity would come and when it did I must be ready to seize it.

I had always known that Kate had an interest in the morbid, so I was not particularly surprised when I discovered what a fascination the graveyard seemed to have for her.

The church was an ancient one, famed for its Norman architecture. It was not far from Perrivale Court and we often passed it.

“Just imagine,” I said as we rode up to it.

“It was built all those years ago … about eight hundred years.”

We were, as Kate said, ‘doing’ William the Conqueror, and she was getting quite an interest in him since learning of the particular manner in which he had wooed his wife Matilda by beating her in the streets. Such incidents delighted Kate and I found myself stressing them whenever I found them, to stimulate her interest.

“He built a lot of places here,” she said.

“Castles and churches and things. And all those people in the graveyard … some of them must have been there for hundreds of years.”

“Trust you to think of that instead of the beautiful Nor man arches and towers. The church is really interesting.”

“Let’s go in,” she said.

We tied up the horses and did so. The hushed atmosphere subdued her a little. We studied the list of vicars which dated back a long way.

“There’s a wonderful feeling of antiquity,” I said.

“I don’t think you get that anywhere as much as you do in a church.”

“Perrivale’s very old.”

“Yes, but there are people there. Modernity creeps in.”

“Let’s go into the graveyard.”

We came out and were immediately among the tottering gravestones.

“I’ll show you the Perrivale vault if you like.”

“Yes. I’d like to see it.”

We stood before it. It was ornate and imposing.

“I wonder how many are buried there,” said Kate.

“Quite a number, I suppose.”

“Cosmo will be there. I wonder if he comes out at night. I’ll bet he does.”

“How your mind dwells on the macabre.”

“What’s macabre?”

I explained.

“Well,” she said.

“That’s what makes graveyards interesting. If they weren’t full of dead people it would be just like anywhere else. It’s the dead who are ghosts. You can’t be one until you are dead. Come on.

I want to show you something. “

“Another grave?”

She ran ahead and I followed her. She had come to a standstill before one of the graves. There was nothing ornate about this one-no engraved stone, no ornamental angels or cherubs, no fond message. Just a plain stone with the words “Thomas Parry’ and the date. A rough kerb had been put round it to separate it from the others and on it was a jam-jar containing a few sprigs of meadowsweet which looked as though they had been picked from the hedges.

“Who was he?” I asked.

“And why are you so interested in this grave?”

She said: “He was the one who fell over the cliff and was drowned.”

“Oh … I remember. You did mention him.”

“They said he was drunk.”

“Well, I suppose he was. I wonder who put those flowers there. Someone must have thought of him. Someone must remember him.”

She did not speak.

“Who was he?” I asked.

“Did you ever know?”

“He didn’t live here. He just came here and went over the cliff.”

“How foolish of him to get so drunk that he did such a thing.”

“Perhaps someone pushed him over.”

“But you say he was drunk …”

“Well, someone could. I reckon he walks by night. He gets out of his grave and walks about the graveyard talking about murder.”

I laughed at her. She turned to me and her face was serious.

Then she shrugged her shoulders and started to walk away. I followed her, turning once to look at the pathetic grave, un cared for but for a jam-jar filled with meadowsweet.

Dick Duvane rode over from Trecorn Manor. He had brought letters for me together with a note from Lucas.

He said he would wait for a reply.

The letters were from London-one from my father and the other from Aunt Maud.

I opened Lucas’s note.

Dear Rosetta, How are you getting on in the governess role? Aren’t you tired of it yet? Say so and I will come over and fetch you. In any case, I must see you. Could we meet tomorrow afternoon? We could see each other at The Sailor King. Should we meet there or would it be all right for me to come to the house? I could bring a horse for you. I want to talk.

Always devoted to your interests, Lucas

I remembered my interview with Lady Perrivale who had said I might be free to take time off when I wanted to. So I wrote a hasty note telling Lucas that I would meet him at The Sailor King the following afternoon at half past two.

Then I took the letters to my room to read them. They were both as I expected. My father’s was rather stilted. He could not understand why I had thought it necessary to take a post. If I had wanted some work he could have found something congenial for me, perhaps at the Museum.

He hoped that I would soon be home and we could talk about what I wanted to do.

I could not imagine myself explaining to my father. I was sorry for him. I guessed Aunt Maud had urged him to write in a disapproving manner.

There was no doubt of her feelings.

My dear Rosetta, How could you ? A governess! What are you thinking of? I know some poor females are forced into such a position but such is not the case with you. If you take my advice you will give up this nonsense without more ado. Do so quickly. People need never know . or if it came out it would be called a mad prank. Of course, the ideal thing would be a London season for you, but you know that is out of the question. But you are the daughter of a professor, a highly respected man in academic circles. You would have had your chances . but a governess! It went on in this strain for several pages through which I lightly skimmed. The reaction was so much what I had expected that it left me unmoved.

I was far more interested in my coming meeting with Lucas.

I told Kate the following afternoon that I was meeting a friend.

“Can I come?”

“Oh no.”

Why not? “

“Because you are not invited.”

“What shall I do while you are gone?”

“You’ll amuse yourself.”

“But I want to come.”

“Not this time?”

“Next time?”

“The future’s not ours to see.”

“You are the most maddening governess.”

“Then I match my pupil.”

She laughed. We had indeed come a long way in the short time I had been here. There was a rapport between us which I would not have dreamed was possible.

She was resigned though disgruntled. She referred once to my desertion.

“I’ve shown you things,” she grumbled.

“I showed you Gramps and the grave.”

“Both suggested by you. I did not ask. Besides, people have a private side to their lives.”

“And this one you’re meeting is in your private life?”

“As you have never met him , .. yes.”

“I will,” she said threateningly.

“You may … perhaps ..” one day. “

She would have liked to make a scene but she dared not. I knew that her life had changed since I had come and it was due to me. She looked upon me, in a way, as her protegee. She enjoyed being with me, which was why she was making such a fuss because I was leaving for a few hours; but there was a real fear, which I had managed to inst il in her, that I might leave altogether; and that’re strained her.

In my room that night I looked over the last days and thought how far I had come, though not, alas, in my main project. That had remained more or less static but in my new life as governess to Kate Blanchard I had progressed amazingly. True, I had met people who had been close to the scene of the murder, and that gave me hopes of coming on some discovery. I needed time to talk to them, to get to know them, and I must do this in a natural manner . so that they did not guess my real motive.

I wished I could find out something about Mirabel’s first husband, Mr. Blanchard. What could he have been like? When had he died? How long was it after that when she came down to Cornwall with her father and her daughter? They could not have been very well off, for the cottage was quite a humble dwelling . at least in comparison with Perrivale Court and the Dower House.

Idle curiosity, perhaps. But not entirely. Mirabel was one of the chief actors in the drama, and it would be advantageous to know as much of her as possible.

Then I was thinking of Lucas, remembering with a certain tenderness his proposal. I felt a great longing to tell him why I was at Perrivale and I knew that when I was with him that longing would be intensified.

I sat at my window looking at those across the courtyard. I was trying to persuade myself that Lucas would be a help to me. What a relief it would be to share this with him. He cared for me . next to himself.

I smiled, remembering his words.

If I made him swear not to betray Simon . was it possible?

I must not yet, I told myself. It was not my secret. Simon had told me because it had seemed possible that we might never get off the island and he had felt it necessary to confide in someone. Besides, there was a special relationship between us. I had been aware of that as he had.

Suddenly my eyes were caught by a light in one of the windows opposite. It was faint . from a candle, I imagined. It flickered and then was gone.

I was startled. I was remembering a conversation I had had with Kate some days ago. We had been standing at my window and we had looked out across the courtyard.

“Whose rooms are those over there?” I had asked.

The one next to the top floor, do you mean? Do you see something special there? “

“No. Should I?”

“I wondered if you’d seen Stepper’s father’s ghost.”

“Your preoccupation with ghosts is becoming quite a mania.”

“It’s like that in big houses, especially when there’s been a murder.

That’s Stepper’s father’s bedroom over there. Nobody goes in there much now. “

“Why not?”

“Well, because he died there. My mother says you have to show respect.”

“Respect?”

“Well, he died there.”

“Someone must go in to clean it.”

“I expect so. Anyway, no one goes there … except Stepper’s mother’s up there with Maria. They stay there most of the time.”

“Maria?”

“Her maid. I reckon it’s haunted. Sir Edward died there.”

I thought it was just another instance of Kate’s preoccupation and forgot about it. Yet when I saw the light a faint shiver ran down my spine.

I laughed at myself. Kate was affecting me with her obsession.

As she would have said, it was because there had been a murder connected with the house.

She was right. It was because of that murder that I was here.

Lucas was in The Sailor King waiting for me, and I felt extraordinarily happy to see him.

He stood up and took both my hands in his. We looked searchingly at each other for a few seconds, then he kissed my cheek.

“Governessing suits you,” he said.

“Well, sit down. How is it going?

I’ve ordered cider. It’s too early for tea, don’t you think? “

I agreed.

“So they allow you a horse to ride, do they?”

I nodded.

“They are most gracious.”

“And the pupil?”

“I’m getting her tamed.”

“You do look proud of yourself.”

“Lucas, how are they at the Manor? The children … ?”

“Very hurt by your desertion.”

“Oh, not really.”

“Yes, really. They ask for you twenty times a day. When is she coming back? I’m going to ask the same question.”

“Not just yet, Lucas.”

“What satisfaction do you get out of it?”

“I can’t explain, Lucas. I wish I could.”

I could feel confession trembling on my lips. But it is not your secret, I kept reminding myself.

“A governess! It’s the last thing …”

“I have had letters from home.”

“Aunt Maud?”

I nodded.

“And my father.”

“Good old Aunt Maud!”

“Lucas … please understand.”

“I’m trying to.”

The cider was brought and for a few seconds we were silent. Then he said: “You and I went through an extraordinary experience, Rosetta. It was bound to do something to us. Look at us. It has made you into a governess and me into a cripple.”

“Dear Lucas,” I said and, stretching my hand across the table, touched his. He held mine and smiled at me.

“It does me good to see you,” he said.

“If ever governessing becomes intolerable and you don’t, want to go back to Aunt

Maud . well, there is a haven waiting for you, as you know. “

“I don’t forget it. It’s a comfort. I am so fond of you, Lucas…”

“I am now waiting for the ” but”.”

“I wish …” I began.

“I wish too. But don’t let’s be maudlin about it. Tell me of this place. There seems to be something of a mystery hanging about it.”

“Well, of course. It is because of what happened.”

“There is something about an unsolved murder. It’s so very unsatisfactory. There’s always a question-mark. For all you know, you could be living in the same house as a killer.”

“That could be so.”

“You speak with some conviction. No. It was all so obvious. Didn’t the man run away?”

“He might have had other reasons for doing so.”

“Well, it’s not our affair. It is just that you are in this house. I don’t like your being there. It’s not only because of the murder. Do you see much of them?”

“I’m mostly with Kate.”

“The little horror.”

“Well… I’m finding her interesting. We’re just finishing Treasure Island.”

“What bliss!”

I laughed.

“And we’re going to start on The Count of Monte Cristo.”

“I cannot express my wonder.”

“Don’t mock. If, you knew Kate you’d realize what tremendous strides I’ve made. The child actually likes me, I believe.”

“What’s so extraordinary about that? Others like you.”

“But they are not Kate. It’s fascinating, Lucas. The whole place is fascinating. There seems to be something behind it all.”

“I believe you are harking back to the murder.”

“Well, there was a murder. I suppose when something violent happens it does something to people … to places …”

“Now I see what interests you. Tell me, what have you discovered?”

“Nothing … or very little.”

“Do you see much of the fascinating Mirabel?”

“Occasionally.”

“And is she so fascinating?”

“She is very beautiful. We saw her, you remember, when the sheep held us up. You must admit that she is outstanding.”

“H’m.”

“I only see her in my capacity as governess. She has made it clear that she is very pleased with me. Apparently I am the only governess who has been able to make her daughter behave with some resemblance to a normal girl. It was quite easy really. From the first she knew that I did not have to come and I threatened to go if things became too difficult. It is amazing what strength there is in indifference.”

“I’ve always known that. That’s why I pretend to be indifferent to circumstances.”

I leaned my elbows on the table and studied him.

“Yes, you have done that, Lucas. And all the time you are not as indifferent as you seem.”

“Hardly ever. For one thing, I’m not indifferent about this governessing. I feel very strongly about it. That’s something I can’t pretend about. Tell me more of them. They’ve behaved well to you, have they?”

“Impeccably. I can have time off when I want and, you see, a horse to ride. A special one has been chosen for me a chestnut mare. Her name is Goldie.” I laughed. I felt so happy that he had asked me to meet him.

“Sounds cosy,” he said.

“It is. She wants me to know that they don’t regard me as an ordinary governess. Professor’s daughter and all that. It reminds me of when Felicity came to our house. It’s very like that.”

“Only she had an easier ride.”

“Dear Felicity. We were friends from the start.”

“Have you told her of your foolish exploits?”

“Not yet. I’ve been there such a short time really. I’m going to write to her. I wanted to work myself in first. I was telling you about Mirabel, young Lady Perrivale. There is an older one, you know. I’m inclined to think of her as Mirabel because that was what they called her in the papers. She is gracious and so is Sir Tristan.”

“So you have made his acquaintance?”

“Only briefly, but it was he who suggested the mount for me. And I may be invited to join the occasional dinner party.”

“A perquisite for a good governess … when it is a not very important occasion and someone is wanted to make up the numbers?”

“I think there might be one important occasion. They are thinking of asking you and Carleton. They have put it off because of Theresa’s death.”

I saw the interest in his eyes.

“So you and I will be fellow guests?”

“You will come when they ask, won’t you, Lucas?”

“I most certainly shall.”

“Is Carleton any better?”

He lifted his shoulders.

“I don’t think he’ll ever get over it. We’re a faithful lot, we Lorimers.”

“Poor Carleton. I grieve for him.”

“I feel guilty. I used to envy him, even saying, to myself:,. Why should everything go right for him? Why should this happen to me while he sails happily through? And now he is in a worse condition than I. I’ve got a useless leg and he has lost the one who was more important to him than anyone else. I wish I could do something for him, but I don’t know what.”

“Perhaps he’ll marry again.”

“It would be the best thing for him. He needs a wife. He’s lost without Theresa. But of course that would be in the future … far in the future. Trecorn is not a very happy household at the moment. If you came back it would relieve the gloom.”

I said: “The children … they are happy?”

“They are too young to grieve for long. I think they still ask for their mother and cry for her … and then they forget. Good old Nanny Crockett is wonderful with them, but I don’t forgive her for bringing all this about. Whatever possessed her to set it in motion?”

He was looking at me closely and I felt myself flushing.

“There must be a reason,” he went on.

I was telling myself: Explain, you owe it to him.

But I could not. It was not my secret to divulge.

After a while he said: “I think I understand. We shall never be as we were before, shall we? Sometimes I look back to the first time we met.

How different we were then . both of us. Can you remember me as I was? “

“Yes, perfectly.”

“And was I very different?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You were different, too. You were at school … very young… eager… innocent. And then on the ship together … how we used to sit on the deck and talk. Remember Madeira ? We were so unaware of the monstrous thing that was about to happen to us.”

As he was talking I was living it all again.

He said: “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reminded you. If we had any sense we’d do our best to forget.”

“We can’t forget, Lucas. We can’t ever forget.”

“We could … if we made up our minds. We could start

a new life together. Do you remember when we talked of our initials? I said it was significant that Life had brought us together, little knowing then what we were to endure. How close we have become since then. I said my initials spelt HELL . Hadrian Edward Lucas Lorimer, and as RC you could bring me back to the path of righteousness. Do you remember? “

“Yes, I do, very well.”

“Well, it’s true. You could save me. You see, it has come to pass. I was speaking prophetically. You and I … we could face everything together… we could make life better than it was before …”

“Oh, Lucas … I wish …”

“We could go right away from here. Anywhere we fancied …”

“You couldn’t leave Trecorn, Lucas. Carleton needs you there.”

“Well, would it matter where we were? We could help him together.”

“Oh, Lucas … I am so sorry. I truly wish …”

He smiled at me ruefully.

“I understand,” he said.

“Well, let’s make the best of what is. Whatever happens, what we went through together will always make us special friends. I often think of that man Player.

I wonder what happened to him. I should like to know, wouldn’t you?”

I nodded, afraid to speak.

He went on: “I understand why you did this, Rosetta. It’s because you want to move away from all that went before. You’re right in a way. So you have gone to that place. It’s entirely new … new surroundings, new work … a challenge. Particularly the girl. You have changed, Rosetta. I have to say I think she is helping you.”

“Yes, I am sure she is.”

“It’s brave of you to have done this. I think I’m something of a coward.”

“Oh no, no. You suffered more than I did. And you brought about your own freedom.”

“Only because I was a useless hulk.”

“You’re not useless. I love you very much. I admire you, and I am so grateful because you are my friend.”

He took my hand and held it firmly.

“Will you always remember that?”

“Always,” I said.

“I’m so glad to have seen you. I feel so safe … to know that you are nearby.”

“I shall always be there,” he said.

“And perhaps one day you will call me in. Now … let’s get out of this place. Come. Show me your Goldie. Let’s ride out to the sea and gallop along the beach. Let’s tell ourselves that our good angels are smiling on us and all our wishes will be granted. There is a nice sentimental speech for an old cynic, is it not?”

“Yes, and I like to hear it.”

“After all, who knows what will be waiting for us?”

“One can never tell.”

And we went out to the horses.

Mrs. Ford caught me as I was going to the schoolroom for the morning lessons.

“Nanny Crockett is coming over this afternoon,” she said.

“Jack Carter is taking a load to Turner’s Farm, so he’ll be bringing her over for a couple of hours. She’ll want to see you, so do come up to my room for a cup of tea.”

I said I should be delighted to do so.

As we were talking, there was a commotion in the hall. I heard the voice of the head gardener; he was saying something about roses.

Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows.

“That man,” she said.

“You’d think the whole world depended on his flowers. He’s making such a noise down there. I’d better go and see what it’s all about.”

Out of curiosity, I followed her.

Several of the servants were in the hall. Littleton, the head gardener, was clearly very angry.

Mrs. Ford said in a commanding voice: “Now what is all this about?”

“You may well ask, Mrs. Ford,” said Littleton.

“Four of my best roses in their prime … someone has stolen them … right from under my nose.”

“Well, who’s done it?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. If I could get my hands on them.”

“Her ladyship may have fancied them.”

“Her ladyship never touches the flowers. I’ve looked after those roses. I’ve been waiting all this time to see them in bloom.

Beautiful, they was. A sort of pinky blue . a rare colour for a rose. Never seen anything like them before. They was special, they was . and I’ve been waiting all this time for the flowers. Took a bit of rearing they did . and then someone comes and picks them . without a by your leave. “

“Well, Mr. Littleton,” said Mrs. Ford, “I’m sorry, but I’ve not touched your roses … and, if you can find who has that’s up to you, but I can’t have you disturbing my servants. They’ve got work to do.”

Littleton turned his agonized face to Mrs. Ford.

“They were my special roses,” he said piteously.

I left them and went up to the schoolroom.

It was difficult to settle to lessons that morning. Kate wanted to hear about my meeting with Lucas on the previous day.

“I was staying with his family, you know,” I told her.

“So he thought he’d come over to see me.”

“Did he ask you to leave here?”

I hesitated.

“He did,” she said.

“And you told him you would.”

“I did not. I told him we were reading Treasure Island and that you and I get along moderately well. That’s right, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Well, now let’s see if we can master these sums and if we can we’ll have an extra fifteen minutes’ reading. Then I believe we could finish the book today.”

“All right,” she said.

“Get out the slate and we’ll start right away.”

Simon was very much in my thoughts that morning. The meeting with Lucas had been unsettling, and the prospect of seeing Nanny Crockett had brought back memories more vividly than usual.

When I reached Mrs. Ford’s room Nanny Crockett had not yet arrived but she had a visitor. It was the rector, the Reverend Arthur James. Mrs. Ford was evidently a great church worker and he had come to consult her about the flower decoration for the church.

She introduced me.

“Welcome to Perrivale, Miss Cranleigh,” he said.

“I have been hearing from Mrs. Ford how well you are managing with Kate.”

“Mrs. Ford has been very kind to me,” I said.

“Mrs. Ford is kind to everyone. We have good reason to know that. My wife and I often ask each other what we would do without her. It is the decorations, you know. We rely so much on Perrivale for so many things. The big house, you see … garden fetes and so on. It has been the same through generations. Sir Edward took a great interest in the church.”

“Oh yes, he was a real churchman,” said Mrs. Ford.

“He’d be at church twice every Sunday … and so were the rest of the family too. Then we had prayers every day in the hall. Yes, he was a real one for the church, was Sir Edward.”

“Sadly missed,” added the rector.

“We don’t have many like him nowadays. The younger generation haven’t the same commitment. I hope to see you there with your charge, Miss Cranleigh. “

“Yes,” I said.

“Of course.”

“Miss Kate is a bit of a handful,” said Mrs. Ford, ‘but Miss Cranleigh is working wonders. Her ladyship is very pleased. It was my idea that she should come. Rector. Nanny Crockett and I worked it out between us. Her ladyship can’t thank me enough. “

“Very gratifying.”

“This is the list,” said Mrs. Ford.

“Mrs. Terris always likes to do the altar. So I’ve put her there. And the windowsills I thought could go to Miss Cherry and her sister … on one side of the church, that is, and on the other. Miss Jenkins and Mrs. Purvis. I thought if I added the flowers they’re to use there’d be no squabbling.”

He had taken out his spectacles and was studying the list.

“Excellent… excellent… I knew I could trust you, Mrs. Ford, to make the arrangements amicably.”

They exchanged mischievous glances which implied that trouble could ensue, but for Mrs. Ford’s skilful handling of the affair.

In due course the rector rose to go. He shook hands and repeated his hope that he would see Kate and me in church on Sunday, and departed.

Not long after he had left Nanny Crockett arrived. She was delighted to see me and Mrs. Ford looked on benignly while we greeted each other.

“My word,” said Nanny Crockett, ‘you do look well. And what’s this I hear about you and Miss Kate getting on like a house on fire? “

“The change in Miss Kate is really remarkable,” said Mrs. Ford.

“Sir Tristan and my lady are very pleased.”

“Miss Cranleigh has a way with children,” said Nanny Crockett.

“Some of us have it, some of us don’t. I saw it right from the start with my two.”

“How are the twins?” I asked.

“Poor little mites. To lose a mother … well, that’s not something it’s easy to get over. Though they’re young … I’m thankful for that. If they’d have been a year or two older they’d have understood more what was going on. Now they think she’s gone to Heaven and that to them might be like going off to Plymouth. They think she’s coming back. They keep asking when. It breaks your heart. They ask after you, too. You must come over and see them some time. They’d like that. Of course, there’d be tears when you left, most likely. Well, I do what I can.”

“And how is Mr. Carleton, Nanny?”

She shook her head.

“Sometimes I think he’ll never get over it. Poor man. He goes about in a sort of dream. Mr. Lucas … well, you never know with him. He broods a lot, I think. It’s a sad household. I try to make it as merry as I can in the nursery.”

She was looking at me intently, hoping of course to get a word with me so that I could report progress. What progress? I wondered. When I considered it I had not come very far, and apart from the fact that I was being moderately successful with Kate, my little exercise was really quite fruitless.

We chattered about things in general . the weather, the state of the crops, little bits of gossip about the neighbourhood.

Mrs. Ford did leave us together for about half an hour. She said she had to go to the kitchen. Something she had to attend to regarding the evening meal. She wanted a word with Cook and it really couldn’t wait.

“You two can look after each other while I’m gone,” she said.

As soon as we were alone Nanny Crockett burst out:

“Have you found anything?”

I shook my head.

“Sometimes I wonder whether I ever shall. I don’t know where the key to the mystery lies.”

“Something will turn up. I feel it in my bones. If it doesn’t, my poor boy will spend the rest of his life abroad . wandering about. That can’t be. “

“But Nanny … even if we discovered the truth and he was cleared, we shouldn’t be able to get in touch with him easily.”

“It would be in the papers, wouldn’t it?”

“But if he’s abroad … he wouldn’t see them.”

“We’d find a way. First we’ve got to prove him innocent.”

“I often wonder where to begin.”

“I think she had something to do with it.”

“Do you mean Lady Perrivale?”

She nodded.

“Why should she?”

“That’s what you’ve got to find out. And him too … he came into everything, didn’t he? That would be the motive. You have to have a motive.”

“We’ve gone into all that before.”

“You’re not giving up, are you?”

“No … no. But I do wish I could make some progress.”

“Well, you’re in the best place to do it. If there’s anything I can do at any time …”

“You are a good ally. Nanny.”

“Well, we’re not far apart. I expect you’ll be coming over to Trecorn sometimes and I can get Jack Carter to bring me here now and then. So we’re in touch. I can’t tell you what I’d give to see my boy again.”

“I know.”

Mrs. Ford came back.

“I do believe this place would go to rack and ruin without me. If I’ve told Cook once I’ve told her twenty times that her ladyship can’t abide garlic. She wanted to put some in the stew. She was with a French family for a few months and it’s given her ideas. You have to keep your eye on them. I stopped her just in time. You two had a nice cosy chat?”

“I was saying that if I can get Jack Carter to bring me I’ll come over again soon.”

“Any time. You’re welcome. You know that. Oh look, Rector’s left his spectacles behind. That man would forget his head if it wasn’t fixed on his shoulders. He’ll be lost without them. I’ll have to get them over to him.”

“I’ll take them,” I said.

“I’d like a little walk.”

“Oh, will you? I wonder if he’s missed them yet. If he hasn’t, he soon will.”

I took the spectacles and Nanny Crockett said she must be going. Jack Carter would be here at any minute and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Then you’d better go down,” said Mrs. Ford.

“Well, goodbye. Nanny, and don’t forget, any time… and there’ll be a cup of my best Darjeeling for you.”

I went with Nanny Crockett to the gate and we had not been there more than a few minutes when Jack Carter drove up. Nanny Crockett climbed up beside him and I waved as the cart trundled off.

Then I made my way to the church. The Reverend Arthur James was delighted to receive his spectacles, and I made the acquaintance of his wife, who said with mock severity that he was always losing them and this would be a lesson to him.

I was invited in but I said I had to get back as Kate would be waiting for me. I came out of the rectory and found myself walking through the churchyard. It is strange the fascination such places have. I could not resist pausing to read some of the inscriptions on the gravestones. They were of people who had lived a hundred years ago. I wondered about their lives. There was the Perrivale vault. Cosmo was buried there. If only he could speak and tell us what really happened.

My eye was caught by the sight of a jam-jar, for in it were four exquisite roses-pink roses with a blueish tinge about them.

I could not believe my eyes. I went close to look. There was the cheap headstone, inconspicuous among the splendour of the other graves; and I knew that those were the very roses the loss of which Littleton the gardener had been mourning this very day.

For some moments I stood staring at them.

Who had put them there? I thought of the meadow sweet, obviously picked from the hedges. But these roses . Who had taken the roses from the Perrivale garden to put in a jam-jar on the grave of an unknown man?

Why had Kate shown me the grave?

I walked thoughtfully back to Perrivale Court. The more I thought of it, the more likely it seemed that Kate was the one who had taken the roses and put them on the grave.

She was waiting for me when I returned and I had not been in my room for more than a few minutes when she came in.

She sat on the bed and looked at me accusingly.

“You’ve been out again,” she said.

“Yesterday you went to see that man and today you were with Mrs. Ford and when I went up there you’d gone again.”

“The rector left his glasses behind and I took them back to him.”

“Silly old man. He’s always losing something.”

“Some people are a little absentminded. They often have more important things to think about. Did you hear all the commotion this morning about the roses?”

“What roses?” She was alert and I knew instinctively that I was on the right track.

“There were some special ones. Littleton had taken great care with them and was very proud of them. Someone took them. He was furious.

Well, I know where they are. “

She looked at me cautiously.

I went on: “They are in the graveyard on the grave of the man who was

drowned. Do you remember? You showed me his grave. There was some meadowsweet in the jam-jar then. Now there are Littleton’s prize roses.”

“I could see you thought the meadowsweet was awful.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, wild flowers. People usually put roses and lilies and that sort of thing on people’s graves.”

“Kate,” I said, ‘you took the roses. You put them on that grave. “

She was silent. Why? I wondered.

“Didn’t you?” I persisted.

“All the others have things on them… statues and things. What are a few flowers?”

“Why did you do it, Kate?”

She wriggled.

“Let’s read,” she said.

“I couldn’t settle down to reading with this hanging over us,” I said.

“Hanging over us! What do you mean?” She was bellicose, a sign of being on the defensive with her.

“Tell me truthfully why you put the flowers on that grave, Kate.”

“Because he didn’t have any. What are a few old roses? Besides, they’re not Littleton’s. They’re Stepper’s or my mother’s. They didn’t say anything. They wouldn’t know whether they were in the garden or on the grave.”

“Why did you feel this about this man?”

“He hadn’t got anything.”

“It’s the first time I’ve realized you have a soft heart. It’s not like you, Kate.”

“Well,” she said, tossing her head, “I wanted to.”

“So you cut the flowers and took them to the grave?”

“Yes. I threw the wild flowers away and got some fresh water from the pump …”

“I understand all that. But why did you do it for this man? Did you . know him?”

She nodded and suddenly looked rather frightened and forlorn-quite unlike herself. I sensed that she was bewildered and in need of comfort. I went to her and put my arm round her and, rather to my surprise, she did not resist.

“You know we are good friends, don’t you, Kate?” I said.

“You could tell me.”

“I haven’t told anybody. I don’t think they’d want me to.”

“Who? Your mother?”

“And Gramps.”

“Who was this man, Kate?”

“I thought he might be … my father.”

I was astounded and for the moment speechless. The drunken sailor . her father!

“I see,” I said at length.

“That makes a difference.”

“People put flowers on their fathers’ graves,” she said.

“Nobody else did. So … I did.”

“It was a nice thought. No one could blame you for that. Tell me about your father.”

“I didn’t like him,” she said.

“I didn’t see much of him. We lived in a house in a horrid street near a horrid market. We were frightened of him. We were upstairs. There were people living downstairs. There were three rooms with a wooden staircase down the back into the garden. It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t even like Seashell Cottage. It was … horrible.”

“And you were there with your mother and your father?”

I was trying to picture the glorious Mirabel in the sort of place Kate’s brief description had conjured up. It was not easy.

“He didn’t come home much. He went to sea. When he came back … it was awful. He was always drunk … and we used to hate it. He’d stay for a while … then he’d go back to sea.”

“And did you leave that place then?”

She nodded.

“Gramps came and we went away … with him. That’s when we came to Seashell Cottage … and everything was different then.”

“But the man in the grave is Tom Parry. You are Kate Blanchard.”

“I don’t know about names. All I know is that he was my father. He was a sailor and he used to come home with a white bag on his shoulder and my mother hated him. And when Gramps came it was all different.

The sailor . my father . wasn’t there any more. He was only there for little whiles anyway. He was always going away. Then we got on a train with Gramps and he took us to Seashell Cottage. “

“How old were you then, Kate?”

“I don’t remember … about three or four perhaps. It’s a long time ago. I only remember little bits. Sitting in the train … sitting on Gramps’s knee while he showed me cows and sheep in the fields. I was very happy then. I knew that Gramps was taking us away and we wouldn’t have to see my father any more.”

“And yet you put flowers on his grave.”

“It was because I thought he was my father.”

“You’re not sure.”

“I am … and then I’m not. I don’t know. But he might have been my father. I hated him and he was dead … but if he was my father I ought to put flowers on his grave.”

“And so he came back here?”

She was silent for a moment. Then she said: “I saw him. I was frightened.”

“Where did you see him.”

“I saw him in Upbridge. Sometimes I used to play with Lily Drake and she’d come over to Seashell Cottage and play with me. Gramps used to think of lovely things for us to do. Lily liked coming to us and I liked going to her. Mrs. Drake used to take us into the town when she went shopping … and that was when I saw him.”

“How could you be sure?”

She looked at me scornfully.

“I knew him, didn’t I? He

walked in a funny way. It was as though he were drunk . though he wasn’t always. I suppose he was drunk so much that he forgot how to walk straight. I was there with Mrs. Drake and Lily by the stall. It was full of shiny red apples and pears. And I saw him. He didn’t see me. I hid behind Mrs. Drake. She’s very big, with a lot of petticoats.

I could hide myself right in them. I heard him speak too. He went up to one of the stall-holders and asked if she knew a red-haired woman with a little girl. Her name was Mrs. Parry. I heard the man at the stall say he knew of no such person. And I thought it was all right because my mother was not Mrs. Parry; she was Mrs. Blanchard. But I thought he was my father . “

“Did you tell your mother what you’d seen?”

She shook her head.

“I told Gramps, though.”

“What did he say?”

“He said I couldn’t have. My father was dead. He’d been drowned at sea. The man I had seen was someone who looked like him.”

“Did you believe him?”

“Yes, of course.”

“But you said you thought this man was your father.”

“Not all the time I don’t. Sometimes I do … sometimes I don’t. Then I thought if he was my father he ought to have flowers.”

I held her very close to me and she seemed glad that I did.

“Oh Kate,” I said.

“I’m glad you told me.”

“So am I,” she said.

“We had a truce, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” I said.

“But the truce is over. We don’t need it now. We’re friends. Tell me what happened.”

“Well … then the man I’d seen was drowned. He fell over the cliff when he was drunk. That was the sort of thing my father … he … would have done … so this man was very like him. It was very easy to make a mis take.”

“His name was Parry. What was your name when you were living in that place … before your grandfather came?”

“I don’t remember. Oh, yes, I do … it was Blanchard … I think.”

“Do you think it might have been something else?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“No. Gramps said I was always Kate Blanchard and that was my father’s name and it wasn’t my father I had seen in Upbridge. It was another man who looked like him. He was a sailor too. Sailors look alike. All those sailors in Treasure Island looked different, didn’t they? But they were special ones. Oh, Cranny, I shouldn’t have told you really.”

“It was good to tell me. Now we understand so much about each other.

We’ve found out that we are real friends. We’re going to help each other all we can. Tell me what happened when the man was found on the rocks. “

“Well, he was just found. They said he was a sailor and he didn’t live here. He came from London. He’d been asking for someone … some relation. That was what they said in the papers.”

“And you’d told your grandfather that you thought he was your father.”

“Gramps said it wasn’t my father and I had to stop thinking he was. My father was dead and I didn’t belong to that place where we used to live any more. My home was with him and my mother in our nice Seashell Cottage by the sea.”

“There was quite a fuss when the man’s body was found, wasn’t there?

Where did they find it? “

“On the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. The tide might have carried him out to sea, they said, but it didn’t.”

“What will you do now, Kate? Shall you go on putting flowers on his grave?”

I saw a stubborn look on her face.

“Yes,” she said.

“I don’t care about Littleton’s old roses.”

She laughed and for a moment was her mischievous self.

“I’ll take some more if I want to. They’re not his. They’re old Stepper’s really … and my mother’s because she married Stepper and what is his is hers.”

I thought: In her heart she believes the man in that grave is her father; and I was becoming more and more sure that I had made an important discovery.