The Changeling

The Devil’s Crown

FEELINGS OF ELATION MINGLED oddly with a terrible apprehension. This was a house of shadows with a menacing cloud hanging over it. And so it would remain until Celeste was found. But there was something miraculous in my new relationship with my stepfather, and the manner in which he had dealt with my unhappiness filled me with tender admiration for him.

It seemed that he, who had always before been on the fringe of my life, had now walked into it and swept aside all obstacles to my happiness. He had always given an impression of power, and how astute he was for as soon as he was aware of what had happened, he had guessed at the truth and exposed it in a masterly fashion.

I wished that I could do something for him.

I wrote to Pedrek telling him what had happened, making sure, as Benedict would have advised me, that he knew I had written my previous letter before the revelations.

Then I wrote to my grandparents, the Pencarrons and Morwenna and Justin. I told them all that I had already written to Pedrek some days before the truth was known, that I believed in him and hoped he would forgive me for doubting him even for a short time; and I was waiting to hear from him that his feelings towards me had not changed.

I knew what joy that would bring them all. We could now be together in harmony just as we had been in the past.

I asked them all not to think too hardly of Belinda. She was only a child and it had been a great tragedy for her that she had lost her mother before she could know her. We must all try to understand that.

“I have talked to Benedict,” I wrote. “And he wants to do everything he can to make a harmonious family life for us all. At the moment, of course, he is terribly worried and unhappy with this fearful mystery hanging over us. But I am convinced that the truth will come out soon.”

I wondered how long it would take for my letter to reach Pedrek and for him to reply. It was a long way for a letter to go—to the other side of the world.

Meanwhile it was the waiting period. I could not believe that Pedrek would not come back to me. But then he would not have believed I could think him guilty of such a monstrous crime. He must have been bitterly and deeply wounded. Did that sort of thing leave a scar forever?

My grandparents wrote of their delight. How understanding they were! They spared a little sympathy for Belinda in spite of the havoc she had wrought in our lives.

“We must remember that she is only a child,” wrote my grandmother, “and I suppose she did it for your happiness as well as her own. She, in her simple innocence, thought she could play God and direct your lives. At what a cost to poor Pedrek! Let us hope that he will soon come home and that you will be happy together.”

And it was Benedict who had done this. But for him I should not have written that letter. Only he could have made Belinda confess the truth.

How I wished that I could help him!

For some time I had felt a twinge of guilt because I had never said anything about that occasion when I had seen Celeste and Oliver Gerson together at The Hanging Judge. Was it of any significance?

How could I know? But in a case like this any small detail could be of importance. Who knew which were the key pieces to fit into the puzzle to complete the picture?

I could not bring myself to speak to him of Oliver Gerson. He hated the man and would not have him in the house. Understandably since he had tried to blackmail him. As for Oliver Gerson, the thought had occurred to me that he might be responsible for some of the pieces which had appeared in the press. I could well imagine his revelling in supplying damning information. I was sure he was delighted to see Benedict in trouble.

I could not believe that Celeste was dead. I awoke one morning. I had been dreaming, but it was as though a revelation had come to me. In my dream I had seen Oliver Gerson, with a malicious expression on his face. I heard his voice: “Don’t think I shall let this pass.”

I had the firm conviction that Oliver Gerson could tell us something.

He would never help Benedict, but what of me? He had been courteous and charming to me always. Of course, he had thought I was a good proposition. He had planned to marry the stepdaughter and so acquire a share in the business. That had been his motive. Most girls would have been impressed by him and very likely delighted that he had planned to marry them.

Was he so bad? Benedict had married his first wife for the goldmine she brought him. When one grew up one realized that people’s characters were made up of many facets.

Oliver Gerson had been so good to the children, amusing them, playing their games. They had both adored him—Lucie as well as Belinda—but Belinda was more fierce in her emotions. She loved with passion and hated with venom. Therefore while to Lucie he had been Nice Mr. Gerson, to Belinda he had been godlike.

If I could see him now … How? I did not know where he lived. He would, of course, still be connected with the clubs. His had been an important post there. He had been Benedict’s right-hand man; and now that Benedict was no longer working for them, he would still be there with the new owners.

I had heard the names of some of them: The Green Light, The Yellow Canary, Charade and The Devil’s Crown, but that last was the one Benedict had not acquired.

I could find out where the clubs were situated. I knew they were all in the west end of London. It would not be very difficult; and as soon as the idea occurred to me I decided to put it into practice.

I felt so much happier than I had for a long time. I was sure I should be hearing from Pedrek soon … and I owed this to Benedict. He was the one who had made me do the right thing and then set about to prove that it was not only the best for me but the truth. He had given me a chance to be happy again, and I longed to do the same for him.

Just suppose Oliver Gerson knew where Celeste was. It even occurred to me that she might have run off with him. Perhaps they had eloped together to some other country. I could try to find out. Some of his associates at the clubs might know.

I would go to London, I would make the excuse that I wanted to be with Morwenna who was so pleased that we had discovered the truth and that her son was exonerated.

Normally I should have been beset by pleas from the children to come with me. Lucie wanted to, but I told her I had a great deal to do and I should not be away for long. Belinda showed no desire to accompany me. She had been very subdued since her confession.

Leah told me that I need have no qualms about leaving the children at this difficult time. Belinda was clearly relieved that the truth had been revealed. “She had it on her mind, Miss Rebecca,” said Leah, and added, determined to protect her darling: “She meant well.”

“Yes,” I replied, “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Poor mite. It’s her father. That hurt her a lot, you know. And he was the one who got it out of her. She’s terrified of him.”

“On this occasion it was a good thing that she was.”

“Don’t you worry, Miss Rebecca. I’ll look after her when you’ve gone.”

“I know you will, Leah.”

She smiled and I remembered Mrs. Emery’s words when she had described the change in her. She no longer looked as though she were going to a funeral. Poor Leah! But she certainly did seem happier. What an effect parental attitudes had on children. There was Belinda—as she was because she resented her father’s attitude towards her. And Leah? What had life been like in that shiningly clean cottage presided over by the self-righteous Mrs. Polhenny? No wonder she was secretive … shut in on herself.

But she seemed to be growing away from that a little now. There was truly a new softness in her face for the whole world and not just for Belinda.

Morwenna was delighted when she heard I was to stay with them for a week or so. So in due course I left Manorleigh for London.

I was warmly welcomed by both Pedrek’s parents, and all the coldness which had existed between us for the last months was swept away.

Morwenna kissed me and said: “Thank you for your letter … particularly the one you sent to Pedrek … before …”

I smiled. What a lot I owed to Benedict.

“I feel sure he will be home soon,” said Morwenna.

Justin came out to greet me. It was like a happy reunion. We talked about Pedrek for practically the whole of the first evening. He was finding Australia interesting but Morwenna fancied he was homesick for Cornwall.

“My father is so delighted that he will be coming home soon,” she added.

“Has he said he is coming home?”

“There has not been time to hear yet, but he will … of course he will.”

I prayed he would and that he would forgive me for my doubts. I did have some dark moments when I wondered whether I had wounded him too deeply that even if the wounds healed the scars would show.

We put off talking in any depth about the disappearance of Celeste and the terrible position Benedict was in; but it was there all the time, hanging over us, reminding us that we were inclined to let our happiness over Pedrek’s release from suspicion make us forget.

Morwenna said: “I suppose you will want to do some shopping while you are here?”

“I daresay …”

“I shan’t be able to come with you as I should have liked. I have one or two engagements, made before I knew you were coming.”

“I understand that … and I’ll get round quicker on my own.”

I wondered what they would say if they knew I proposed to visit The Yellow Canary the next day.

I spent the next morning with Morwenna. Justin had gone off to his office where he worked on the consignments of tin which were sent to various parts of the country and the Continent.

In the afternoon Morwenna went out, full of apologies, to fulfill an engagement. I told her I should be perfectly all right.

It was a bright and sunny afternoon and as soon as Morwenna left, I went out, hailed a cab and asked to be taken to The Yellow Canary. The cab driver looked rather surprised at such a request coming from a respectable looking female in the middle of the afternoon.

We drew up before a building in a rather narrow side street. On the wall by the door was the model of a yellow canary, so I knew I had come to the right place.

I alighted and went to the door. I rang a bell. After a few moments a hatch was drawn back and a pair of eyes were looking at me.

“Yes?” asked a male voice.

“Could I speak to the manager?” I asked.

“We’re not open.”

“I know. But I want to make some enquiries.”

“You the press?”

“No. I’m a friend of Mr. Oliver Gerson.”

I fancied that made some impression. He paused. “I could tell him you called.”

“When will he be here?”

“I don’t know. Comes and goes. Wait a minute.” He opened the door and I stepped into a dark little lobby. I was confronted by a flight of stairs.

“Does Mr. Gerson know you’re coming?”

“No. But I have to get in touch with him. It’s urgent.”

He looked at me for a few seconds as though summing me up. “I’ll tell you,” he said at length. “He might be at The Green Light. Yes … he’s likely to be there.”

“The Green Light? Where is that?”

“Just a few streets from here. All the clubs are close. It’s club area, you see. I’ll tell you how to get there. It’s simple. Turn to your right and go along to the end of this street, cross the road and you’ll see Lowry Street. The Green Light’s on the right. You can’t miss it. It’s got a green light outside.”

“Like your yellow canary.”

“That’s right. You might well find him there at this time.”

I thanked him and came out into the street. He had given me clear instructions and it was not difficult to find The Green Light.

The door was open and I went in. There was a similar small dark lobby and a flight of stairs. A woman came out of a side door.

“Good afternoon,” I said.

“Good afternoon. Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Mr. Oliver Gerson. Is he here?”

“What name is it?”

“Miss Mandeville.”

“Could I ask what it’s about?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

She looked at me suspiciously. “He’s not here, I’m afraid.”

My heart sank. “Could you give me an address where I could get into touch with him?”

“Well, I couldn’t do that, but if you leave your name and address, I’ll get a message to him.”

“I’m staying with friends and I may not be in London for long. Would you tell him it is urgent.”

Then I heard a voice say: “Why, it is! What a surprise, Rebecca!”

Oliver Gerson was coming down the stairs.

“It’s all right, Emily,” he said to the girl. “This young lady is a friend of mine.”

“Oh,” I cried. “I am so pleased to have found you.”

“As pleased as I was when I gathered you were looking for me.”

“I thought you would still be in the club business.”

“Yes, when the new people took over they wanted me to stay on and look after the management. I did so … on my own terms. But this is no place to entertain a lady like yourself. There’s a tea place round the corner. We’ll be comfortable there and you can tell me to what I owe the pleasure of this visit.”

He led me out of The Green Light and we walked to the end of the street while he told me how well I looked and as beautiful as ever—no, more so.

It was the typical Gerson charm and I did not believe a word of it; but I had to admit it was pleasant and I felt—as I always had—that he would be easy to talk to.

We crossed a road and in the next street was the little shop. Tables were not too close together and they were already serving tea though the place was not very full.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gerson. A table for two?”

“Not too public a one, please, Marianna.”

“I know, sir.”

She smiled roguishly and gave me a speculative but friendly smile.

The table was in an alcove rather apart from the others.

“Ideal,” said Oliver. “Now bring us some tea and some of those superb scones of yours, please.”

She gave him an almost tender look and I thought, He may be a blackmailer and all sorts of a villain but he knows how to make people happy. Belinda … Lucie … and even the woman in the shop.

When tea was brought the waitress received a charming smile from him and I noticed that she served him as though it were a special pleasure to do so.

“Now tell me what this is about?” he said.

“Do you know anything about Celeste Lansdon?”

A smile curved his lips. “I know that she has made quite a stir. It’s hardly a secret. Poor Mr. Lansdon! I can’t help feeling sorry for him. He’s in a rather nasty position. There’s no doubt about that.”

“You hate him, don’t you?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been annoyed with him.”

“He has suffered a great deal through this.”

“It won’t do him much harm. You’ll see. He’ll pop up again.”

“He has lost his chances in the Cabinet.”

“Well, he lost his seat once, didn’t he … over that first wife of his. And yet … there he was … all set for getting to the top. It’s all part of life … anyway the life of a man such as he is. He’s down … then he’s up. And the ability to fall and rise again … that’s the mark of a strong man.”

“You sound rather pleased about his troubles.”

“You could hardly expect me to go into sackcloth and ashes, could you?”

“No … but perhaps a little sympathy.”

“I am afraid we are not all as good as you obviously are.”

“Do you know anything about Celeste Lansdon’s disappearance?”

“Why should you think I would know about it?”

“I saw you with her once. You were coming out of The Hanging Judge.”

“I did not see you. I wish I had.”

“So … I know you were in touch with her.”

“Poor girl! He treated her badly, didn’t he? He neglected her. She was very unhappy. You can try people too far. What a juicy scandal it is! In view of his past history particularly. He was lucky to get out of the club business when he did.”

“You have stayed in it.”

“My dear Rebecca, I am not a budding cabinet minister. I can live my own quiet life and as long as I am on the right side of the law, I am in the clear.”

“Providing you don’t indulge in a little … blackmail?”

He was taken aback for a moment or two and I went on: “I overheard a conversation of yours. You were offering to marry me in exchange for some partnership. Do you remember?”

“Listeners do not often get the entire story. Marrying you would have been no hardship, but I did think that having family ties with Benedict Lansdon would have been advantageous, especially when the lady in question was the most charming I was ever likely to meet.”

“I’d rather you dispensed with the gallantry.”

“It’s genuine. I am very fond of you. I like your spirit. You are bold to come rashly to night clubs … even by day. They are no place for a respectable young lady.”

“I gathered that. But you must know that Benedict has … and still is … suffering a great deal.”

“It can’t have been easy for him. Do you care so much about that? I gathered that he was not one of your favorite people.”

“That has changed. He has done a great deal for me. I want to help him if I can.”

“A great deal… for you?”

“Yes, he has helped to put things right between me and the man I hope to marry.”

“This lucky man is …?”

I made an impatient movement, and he went on: “I mean he is the lucky one … the luckiest man on Earth. Is it Pedrek Cartwright?”

“Yes.”

“And he has done this marvelous thing? What is in it for him?”

“Nothing. You don’t understand. He could not bring himself to forget the past … the death of my mother … now he is breaking through. He and I …”

“It’s very touching,” he said with a hint of cynicism.

I half rose. “I can see it is no use …”

“Of course that’s not so. Listen to me. I want to help you.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“From the bottom of my heart.”

“You are so superficially charming, I admit, but I do not know how much I can believe.”

“You can believe that I would do a great deal to help you.” He looked so sincere that I really did begin to believe him.

“Tell me about Pedrek,” he said, and rather to my surprise I found myself relating what had happened in Cornwall, of the part Belinda had played in ruining our lives which might have been forever had it not been for Benedict.

“That child! What a wild creature she is! I was fond of her, you know.”

“And she of you. In fact it was because of you that she did this terrible thing.”

“She’s got imagination, that one, but I am amazed that she went so far as that … even for my sake.”

An idea suddenly came to me.

I said: “Did she by any chance help you to get the key to the locked room?”

He smiled at me provocatively.

“She did, of course,” I said. “Why didn’t I think of it? She stole Mrs. Emery’s key, didn’t she?”

He continued to smile.

“And she brought it to you. You had a copy made. Then she returned it to Mrs. Emery’s room.”

“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, how could you! To use a child in such deception!”

“What a devoted little creature she is. I had to see those papers, you know. I had to be sure of my facts.”

“And you found out that there had been negotiations for The Devil’s Crown.”

“How clever you are. There is no need for me to tell you because you know already. Oh yes, Miss Belinda would do a great deal for me.”

“Her feelings are rather superficial,” I said with a touch of malice. “She has now transferred her devotion to another male visitor to the house. An Australian, who owns a goldmine out there. He tells racy stories about the Outback and has quite pushed you out of her mind.”

“Well, perhaps it is for the best. And Benedict got to the bottom of it, did he? Why?”

“For the satisfaction of seeing me happy.”

“He has turned over a new leaf then?”

“We are all turning over new leaves. It is a good thing to do. There might be more to gain from helping people than from taking revenge for petty slights. Will you help me?”

“You believe that I am involved in this, don’t you?”

“I heard you say you would take your revenge on him, that’s why.”

“My dependence on him is over, you know.”

“And you have had the satisfaction of. seeing that there was no place in the Cabinet for him.”

“Was he very upset?”

“It was you who said he takes blows calmly and he did in this case. But he has changed. If only there could be some answer to this riddle … he might find some happiness.”

“Providing it was the right answer. I heard that they were digging near the house.”

I nodded. “The ground appeared to have been recently disturbed and it gave them ideas.”

“And nothing was revealed.”

“No. I do not believe she is dead. Oh, if only she would comeback.”

“Do you think they would live happy ever after, if she did?”

“I think if he would try … and she would try … they might. I told you he had changed.”

He took my hand which was lying on the table, and pressed it.

“You are a very nice girl, Rebecca,” he said. “I should have been lucky if it had all turned out to plan.”

“I should never have married you. There was always …”

“The lucky Pedrek.”

“I think he has not been very lucky so far. When—and if—he comes back I intend that he shall be.”

“I am envying him more and more. Do you know, I should like to help you.”

“You see now why I wanted to find you. It just occurred to me that as you had been meeting Celeste you might have known something.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Cartwrights’ …”

“The lucky Pedrek’s parents’ house. I know it. How long shall you be there?”

“No more than a week.”

“You have come to London on a quest. You want to solve the mystery of Celeste’s disappearance. You want to do it for him because he has been so good to you. He has turned over a new leaf and will be the loving husband and stepfather. He will take the wayward Belinda to his heart and you will all be as one happy family.”

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

“I am not laughing. I am overcome with admiration. It means a lot to you, does it not?”

“A great deal.”

“I think it was so noble of you to come on your pilgrimage of detection. I will do all I can to help.”

“How? Do you think you can?”

“Who knows?”

I said: “I think I should go now.”

“You are disappointed.”

“It was a faint hope. It just occurred to me that she might have said something to you.”

He looked up from his teacup and smiled at me.

“Thank you for the tea,” I said, “and for listening to me.”

“I will settle with Marianna and then we will find a cab and I’ll take you home.” He paused and smiled at me. “Don’t be alarmed. I shall not attempt to oppose the ban and shall make no attempt to darken doors.”

We came into the street and were soon driving along.

“I am afraid you are a little disappointed in me,” he said. “How I should love to be of use.”

“I believe you would if you could,” I told him.

“Then you don’t think I am such a villain after all?”

“No.”

“Blackmail? Seeking betterment in shady ways …”

“I have discovered that many people who may be a little unscrupulous in some ways can be very good in others.”

“What a lovely view of human nature! I should hate to change it.”

We drove in silence for some little way then he went on: “Ah, here is your destination. I will remain in the cab. I think there is just a possibility that you may not wish me to be seen.”

“It is just that …”

He raised a hand. “I understand … perfectly. I’ll make sure that you are safely in the house, then we shall trot discreetly away.”

“You are so kind and thoughtful.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “Au revoir, sweet Rebecca.”

I went into the house.

Two days later I received a note from him. It came by hand and was dropped through the letter box. I was glad that I was alone and no explanation was needed as to who my correspondent was.

He was asking me to meet him at three o’clock that afternoon at The Devil’s Crown.

I was taken aback by the proposed venue, but I subdued my uneasiness, as the prospect of hearing something about Celeste.

I arrived there on time.

I was apprehensive as I stood before the building. It was not very far from The Yellow Canary and The Green Light and bore a resemblance to them … a tall, shabby building on the wall of which was the sign, the Devil with cloven feet and horns, and a crown on his head.

I noticed the big brass knocker with a decoration at the top of it. When I looked closer I saw that it was a crowned devil’s head.

I knocked and in a few moments the door was opened by Oliver Gerson.

“I knew you’d be here promptly,” he said. “Come in.”

I stepped into a small room which was empty of furniture. He opened the door and led the way into another room. Like the first it was empty. I was beginning to feel apprehensive. He realized this and said: “I have a reason for bringing you here. I’m sorry. It is not very attractive, is it? It’s empty actually. We have only recently acquired the premises. Plans are in progress for redesigning the whole place.”

“Why did you ask me to come here?”

“I can explain to you here. I can see you are uneasy. Don’t be. You are perfectly safe with me and I think you are going to be glad I brought you here.”

“It’s … a very strange place.”

“Are you thinking of the devil at the door? That is meant to give people a little shiver as they enter.”

He laid a hand on my arm. Instinctively I drew back. I could not help being reminded of Jean Pascal and wondering if I had been foolish enough to wander into another such trap.

“Could we go somewhere to talk?” I suggested. “That tea-shop?”

He shook his head. “It was necessary that you should come here. You must not be afraid of me. I know I am all sorts of a rogue and an adventurer in a way. I climbed to the position I hold now … and not always by the straight and narrow path. Benedict’s grandfather was interested in me. He recognized my talents and said he would exploit them. I had a position of some responsibility in his day and of course continued in it when Benedict took over.”

“I know all this … and that you jeopardized that position. That was unwise surely.”

“Ah, but he couldn’t turn me out. I was too well entrenched. However, that’s neither here nor there. He’s finished with us now and I am still here. But I am wasting time, aren’t I? You want to know why I brought you here.”

“You are going to tell me something about Celeste, I hope.”

“I want to prepare you … gently. I don’t want to give you too much of a shock. You saw us at The Hanging Judge. Yes, I was meeting her. No … not what you are thinking. It was not a love affair. I was sorry for her. I’m not so bad really. There is a little good in the worst of us, you know. I am capable of feeling sorry for someone in distress, and she was certainly that. She confided in me. She wanted to talk to someone who was sympathetic … and worldly enough to understand the situation. So we talked … and then we used to meet occasionally. Then … Benedict threatened to ruin everything for me. I was furious with him. He would not find it easy to be rid of me. There were others concerned and they knew my value. I recalled that other affair of his … his first election when he lost through the scandal about his wife. I was furious. I wanted above all to make him pay. It became an obsession.”

“Go on.”

“I thought I would spoil his chances. I knew how much he wanted that Cabinet post, and I thought, as it happened before through wife number one, why not do it again through wife number three?”

“So you arranged that …”

“She was to disappear. Not run away openly. That might not have had the desired effect. But suppose she disappeared … taking nothing with her? Suppose it could look like murder?”

I stared at him incredulously.

“You … you’ve hidden her. You know where she is. She’s alive.”

He nodded.

“Where is she?”

“You’ll know soon.”

“What a wicked thing to do!”

“Has he not been wicked? Did he not make his first wife unhappy? He has not cared for his daughter. He has made a little monster of that child. And was he a kind stepfather to you … for all those years?”

“It was largely my fault. He might have been different if I had let him.”

“I can see you are determined to make excuses for him. He should be made to see that there are others in the world beside himself. Oh, I know he has turned over a new leaf. Well, he has been punished. You think he has been punished enough. Perhaps you are right.”

“I wish you would tell me everything … now.”

“You have come at the right moment, Rebecca. You know how fond I am of you. The partnership was not the only reason. I wanted you … and I want to do something for you now. I want to make you happy. I hope your lover comes back to you. I hope you set up that harmonious family atmosphere in Manorleigh and in London. I hope you are able to console your stepfather for the loss of his post. I’ve had my revenge on him, so that score is settled. It was a good one. It harmed him as he tried to harm me. Now I am ready to finish with the business, and you are going to help us out of a rather difficult situation. Celeste is here.”

“Here? In this place?”

He nodded. “She has been here all the time. It was most convenient. You see, the place is empty. At the top is a flat … with kitchen and facilities. It was here when the club was running and was for the manager’s use at those times when he wanted to remain on the premises. It was just what we needed. Celeste had the notion that if she went away … disappeared for a while … Benedict might want her back. She thought it might revive some affection for her. The idea became an obsession. I helped her …”

“Persuaded her to put it into action, I suspect. It suited your plans for revenge.”

“How well you understand! Yes, naturally I was intrigued by the idea.”

“So you helped her make up her mind. You showed her how it could be done.”

He lifted his shoulders. “She fervently believed … at the start … that it would change his feelings towards her. It was what she wanted more than anything. She was ready to go to any lengths to reach that end. I suggested this as a place of refuge … She was enthusiastic about the idea. She smuggled a few essential clothes out of the house. I brought them here. She told her maid she was giving them away to some cottagers. I made this place habitable for her.”

“What a terrible thing to do!”

“Yes. Quite ingeniously worked out, though. But it’s over, and we have to get her out of here. We have to have a plausible story. Not easy … but if you will help, we could achieve that. I know I can trust your discretion. I have thought of a plan and when you see the wisdom of it, you will agree to it, I am sure. We have to think of the press who will be avid for the story. She can’t stay here as the work is to start on the building very soon.”

“When can I see her?”

“When I have told you the plan. You are staying with the Cartwrights. Go back to Benedict’s house and stay a night there. Say you had something to do in your room there … some things you want to sort out … something like that. In the morning, Celeste will return there. She will be dazed and uncertain. She will not know what has happened to her because she has lost her memory. She walked out of the house on that night but she did not know where to. She must have had money in her pocket … enough to enable her to buy a rail ticket to London. She got into conversation with someone on the train … a woman who by chance had a boarding house. She told her she could not remember where she was going. The woman befriended her and she stayed with her some time … she cannot remember how long. She was obviously of good family and the woman believed that in time she would be rewarded—in fact, Celeste had told her this would be so. She merely wanted a temporary refuge while she was trying to remember who she was. She used to walk round the streets looking for her home. She knew she had one … somewhere. Then suddenly, passing Benedict’s town house she recognized it and some memory came back to her. So she presented herself and you happened to be there. You are overcome with joy. You get her to bed. You send for the doctor. As you talk to her some memory comes back and she knows you, of course. You send for Benedict. He comes. Happy reunion. Celeste is back in the family circle and this damning mystery is over.”

I listened with incredulity to all and said: “It is very wild. No one will believe it.”

“You can make it plausible enough.”

“Surely …”

“It is the only way, Rebecca. Imagine the press getting their hands on this. Do not bring more scandal on Benedict. Lost memory is the only answer. Play it carefully as you go along. She has been ill. They’ll probably say it was through his neglect of her, but that will pass, when he shows himself to be the devoted husband. It’s easily done. Loving looks in public … a little pressure of the hands …”

“Take me to her.”

“Follow me.”

He led the way to the stairs and we started to climb. It was a long way up. Right at the top of the tall building we came to a landing. He went to a door and knocked. It was opened immediately and there stood Celeste. She looked pale, thin and very distressed.

She flew at me and we were in each other’s arms.

“Oh, Celeste,” I cried. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Rebecca … it’s been so terrible. I should never have done it.”

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s over. Oliver has been explaining tome.”

He stood by watching us.

“Now we must be practical,” he said. He turned to Celeste. “Rebecca has agreed to help us.”

Celeste smiled at me pathetically and I felt great sympathy for her. I wanted so much to make her life a happy one. I wondered if she and Benedict would be able to forget all that had gone before. I did not know whether that was possible, but at least we could hope.

“Oliver has been telling me how and why you left. We’ve got to forget that, Celeste. You’ve got to come back. Dreadful things have been said in the papers.”

Oliver broke in: “Now we are going to work this out so that our plan is perfect. It must sound right.”

He produced a bottle from his pocket. “There are glasses here,” he said. He went to a cupboard and brought out three. “A little sip of brandy is what we need. Yes, even you, Rebecca. You have had a shock.”

We sat at a table and he poured a little of the spirit into each glass.

He gave me his tender smile. “Celeste,” he said. “Rebecca is going to help us sort this out. I aim for you to get back to your husband’s roof, and there will be a happy reunion. Rebecca wants you all to be as one happy family and as we are fond of Rebecca we must give her what she wants if that is possible. Now listen closely. Rebecca is going back to your husband’s house. Tomorrow I shall take you out in a cab and drop you two streets away. You will then walk to the house and ring the doorbell. Rebecca will let the maid answer it but she will be close at hand. She will show great amazement at the sight of you. She will be a little tearful and very emotional … and certainly bewildered. The house was familiar to you … you were trying to remember … you began to recognize it as your home …”

“I hope this will work,” I said. “It does not sound natural to me.”

“We will make it work. They are not difficult roles to play. It is very important that this should work out. If the press got hold of the truth there would be the most horrific scandal … and great trouble.”

“Trouble for you?” I suggested. “Goodness knows what the penalty would be for hiding someone whom the police are trying to find.”

“I think I could extricate myself with some plausibility. A lapse of memory leaves everyone innocent. It is the way to get the smallest amount of press coverage.”

“Celeste,” I burst out. “I am so happy to have found you!”

“I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to do it or not,” she said. “Sometimes I hated him. I wanted to have my revenge on him … and then I wished I hadn’t. What did the papers say?”

“The police are looking for you, Celeste.”

She shivered.

“Yes,” said Oliver. “And on second thoughts I think we had better leave here at dusk. We will not trust to a cab. There would be the driver to consider. He might remember something. I hadn’t thought that we might be seen. I will bring my own carriage and drive it myself. Celeste will arrive at the house just as it is getting dark … this evening. You must go back at once, Rebecca. Tell them you have to stay at Benedict’s house for a night or so and leave as soon as possible. You must be there when Celeste arrives. You have to help her through this. Just get her to bed … send for Benedict … and make sure you stay with her. She’ll show that she wants you there. It is imperative that you play your parts right.”

“Then I must go at once,” I said. “I have to make arrangements to go to the other house and there is not much time if Celeste is coming back this evening.”

He nodded.

I turned to Celeste. “It is going to be all right. It must be there. I’ll be there when you come. Don’t worry.”

“Benedict.

“He will be so glad to see you.”

“He doesn’t want me.”

“He’s changed,” I said. “He has changed with me and he’ll change with you too. All this has changed him.”

She clung to me and it was some seconds before I could extricate myself.

“I’ll take you out now,” said Oliver to me. Then to Celeste: “Be ready. Only a few hours now.”

We descended the stairs.

I turned to Oliver and said: “I shall have to tell Benedict the truth.”

“Why?”

“It won’t work otherwise.”

“But …”

“I must,” I insisted. “He will see that that is the only way to avoid more scandal. There might be holes in the story … there probably are. It sounds wild to me. If he knew … he’d realize the need to play it the way we are doing. He’ll help us.”

“And what will he think of me?”

“At least you helped us in the end.”

“So you would put in a good word for me, would you?”

“I would indeed … and I thank you. In fact, I am most grateful to you.”

“I’d do a lot for you, Rebecca. I know how you wanted this. But at the same time we had to get her back, somehow.”

“So … I shall tell him.”

“If you think you must. I can see how he would probably probe, and he might find something we’d overlooked which would give the whole show away.”

We left The Devil’s Crown and in a short while I was driven back to the Cartwrights’ house.

There was no time to lose. I went to my room and put a few things into a bag. I came downstairs and was relieved to see that Morwenna had returned.

I said: “Morwenna, I want to go to the house … and to my room there. There are a few things I want to get together to take back with me to Manorleigh. It will be easier for me to stay a night or two there.”

“Are you going now?”

“Yes,” I said, “at once. I want to get on with it. I ought to be returning to Manorleigh soon.”

“Will you be all right … none of the family being there?”

“Yes, perfectly all right.”

So it was easier than I thought.

I arrived at the house and told the servants that I would be there for a night or two.

The afternoon seemed long. I thought it would never pass. And then … the knocking was reverberating through the house. I went downstairs. I was standing at the foot of them when the maid opened the door. I heard her give an exclamation of amazement and I hurried forward.

“Celeste!” I cried. “Oh … Celeste!” I rushed at her and embraced her.

She looked pale and quite bewildered. “Rebecca,” she murmured.

I turned to the maid. “Mrs. Lansdon’s come home!” I cried. “She’s here … she’s safe.” I was trying to imagine how I would be feeling if this were a surprise to me.

There were several people in the hall now. They were all staring at Celeste as though she was a ghost. The butler and the housekeeper arrived. I turned to them.

“She’s ill,” I said. “I’m going to get her to bed. Let hot-water bottles be put in the bed. She’s shivering. Get the doctor. Send for Mr. Lansdon. I’ll tell you what to say. Send at once … and for the moment say nothing to anyone …”

I wrote a message. “Come at once. We have astounding news. Very necessary you are here.”

“There must be no mention of Mrs. Lansdon’s return to the outside world as yet,” I said. “We must wait to see how Mr. Lansdon intends to handle this.”

They all listened in awe.

The dignified butler bowed his head. He was the sort of man who would show little emotion in any contingency. I think he saw the wisdom of my reasoning. Nobody wanted the press here until Mr. Lansdon arrived. It was so easy to say something which would be regretted afterwards.

I got her to her room. They were fussing about with hot-water bottles. When they had gone I helped her undress and to get into bed.

I said: “Say little, Celeste. You are doing well. You looked quite bewildered and dazed.”

She replied: “I feel it. Oh Rebecca, I’m so frightened.”

“It’s going to work out. Just say nothing. Don’t answer questions … if they are awkward. We’ll work it out.”

“Benedict …”

“He’ll understand. I shall make him understand.”

“Oh, Rebecca!” She was sobbing in my arms.

“Listen, Celeste,” I said. “This has been a terrible time but it is over now. Everything will be different from now on. I know it.”

She looked at me with a certain confidence and I felt quite humble. I was talking to give myself courage for I was as apprehensive as she was.

The housekeeper tapped on the door. I went outside so that Celeste should not hear what was said.

“The message has been sent off to Manorleigh,” I was told, “and the doctor will be here very soon.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Greaves,” I said. “This has been a terrible business. Mrs. Lansdon has clearly lost her memory.”

“I’ve heard of such cases, Miss Rebecca.”

“She’ll be all right. It is coming back a little now. I gathered that she recognized the house as her home which is a good sign.”

“Poor lady. She must have gone through a good deal.”

“Yes, but we’ll get her better. When Mr. Lansdon comes …”

“Of course, Miss Rebecca. Ah. There’s someone at the door. It must be the doctor.”

I went down to him. I knew him because he had been to the house once or twice before.

I said to him: “A most extraordinary thing has happened. I am sure Mr. Lansdon would not want it known until he himself has had time to deal with the matter. He will be here very shortly for he has been informed. Mrs. Lansdon is here.”

He was taken aback.

“Yes,” I went on. “It appears she lost her memory.”

“So … that is the explanation.”

“Dr. Jennings, I know I can rely on your discretion. It is rather important that no one knows she has come back until Mr. Lansdon is here. In view of his position and all the fuss there has been we should not be able to deal with the press.”

“I see,” said the doctor. “Yes, of course.”

“He will want to see you, I expect, when he arrives. But in the meantime I thought you should visit Mrs. Lansdon. She is in a weak state and questions seem to upset her.”

“I understand. Let me see her. I’ll give her something to soothe her. I expect she wants rest … and when she has had it … we’ll go on from there.”

“Let me take you to her.”

I went into the bedroom. Celeste looked scared. I said: “It’s only the doctor, Celeste. He’s going to give you something soothing to make you sleep. There is nothing to worry about now. You’re home and safe.”

I remained in the room with the doctor. I was terrified that he might ask her some question and at the moment she seemed in no state to deal with a complicated situation.

However he was both soothing and tactful. He gave her a dose which he said would make her sleep. We left together. He shut the door and said to me: “She’s very muddled, isn’t she? What a mercy she saw the house and recognized it. It’s clearly a case of loss of memory.”

“It will come back, I hope.”

“Gradually. But it may take some time.”

“I am so absolutely delighted that she has returned.”

“It has been a trying time for the whole family. But this is the best thing that could have happened in the circumstances. She doesn’t seem to be ill physically. It is just this mental block. It happens now and then.”

“You’ve had experience of it, I daresay?”

“I did have another case … once.”

“And the person in question recovered … completely?”

“Yes … in time.”

“I am so relieved. Mr. Lansdon will be here soon, I hope.”

“That would be a considerable help, I should imagine. The more people she knows about her, the better. Familiar surroundings will be a great help.”

When he left I was deeply relieved. We had passed the first hurdle.

I went back into the bedroom. Celeste looked at me sleepily.

I sat down by the bed. She reached for my hand and clung to it. In a few moments she was in a deep sleep.

I sat there for what seemed like an eternity … waiting for Benedict.

At last he came. I heard the cab draw up at the door and saw him alight. I sped down to the hall and when he came in I ran to him,

“Rebecca!” he said.

“Benedict, something has happened. Come to my room.”

He followed me there. I shut the door and faced him.

“Celeste is here,” I said.

“Here!” He stared at me unbelievingly.

“I found her …”

“What? Where? How is she?”

“She’s in her bed … fast asleep. I sent for the doctor. He’s been and has given her a sedative. He said she needs a great deal of rest. She’s been through an ordeal.”

“What …?” he repeated. “How …?”

“I’ll tell you from the beginning,” I said, and I told him. He listened incredulously but I could see the tremendous relief he felt.

“I must see her,” he said at length.

“She’s sleeping now. But come. I can see you find it hard to believe she is here.”

I took him into the bedroom. She lay on her bed looking very pale, her lovely dark hair spread out on the pillow.

“How young she looks,” he said.

“I must talk to you, Benedict. When she wakes I want you to be thoroughly prepared. Please come back to my room.”

I had never seen him as he was then. He was like a man in a dream. He must be finding it hard to believe that this was actually happening to him.

“I’ve thought so much about this,” I said. “And so has Oliver Gerson. I know you hate him, but he is clever. He has done what he intended to do—stopped your getting into the Cabinet. He is satisfied.”

“He could be prosecuted for his part in this … helping to hide her, aiding and abetting her … keeping information from the police.”

“That all has to be forgotten. It will be worse for you if you allow bitterness to prevail. No one is guiltless … you would be blamed as much as any. You neglected her … made her so unhappy that she could contemplate such a thing. You’ve kept that locked room. How could you … in a house where she is living? She loved you far too much … more than you deserved. So please forget bitterness and thoughts of revenge. You are as much to blame as Oliver Gerson who has repented apparently. Through him I found her. And he has helped us. It was his idea that she should feign loss of memory. It’s the best way, Benedict. So … forget resentments. Oliver Gerson has gone out of your life. You apparently said things to him which he could not forgive and he has had his revenge. We have to think about the press. They will be on your heels. I suggest that you tell them she has returned and that she was suffering from a loss of memory. At the moment she is not certain what exactly happened and the doctor has given orders that she must not be disturbed and bothered with questions. She needs medical attention and care.”

He nodded and smiled at me in a quizzical way. “I see,” he said, “that you have worked it out in a logical way.”

“We must, Benedict. We have to think of her. Life has to be made worth living for her. This should never have happened. You would have had the Cabinet post for which you craved if it had not. There would never have been this scandal and all the terrible suspense and horror we have endured during these weeks.”

“I know. You are right. It is my fault. I have behaved badly …”

“That will change, won’t it?”

He said in a low and husky voice: “I can try, Rebecca.”

“And you will. Promise me.”

He took my hands in his and drew me to him. I put my arms about him.

“It has changed for us. It must change for her,” I said.

He did not speak. I think his emotion prevented him.

“I think, Benedict,” I went on, “that you may have brought happiness back to me. If I can do anything to repay you …”

“Why, Rebecca,” he said, “you have become my guardian angel.” Then he laughed—uncertain laughter it was true. He held me at arms’ length. “Thank God for you … stepdaughter.”

“Let us thank God we have each other,” I added.

I took him to the bedroom they shared together. She was lying in her bed, drowsy but awake.

“Celeste,” I said softly. “Benedict is here.”

She was fully awake at once. She sat up in bed looking fearful. He went to her and took her in his arms.

“I am so glad that you have come home,” he said.

She clung to him.

I said: “Don’t be afraid, Celeste. Benedict is so happy because you have come back. He knows everything now. He understands … and there is nothing to fear.”

I closed the door on them.

I wanted to sing for joy. I knew in time all would be well.