The Demon Lover

The Demon

I arrived in Rouen in good time and there had to change to a branch line which would take me to Centeville.

As I stepped off the train I was greeted by a man in the Centeville livery. He said: “It is Mademoiselle Collison, I believe.”

“That is so.”

“There has been some trouble on the branch line and there will be no more trains through tonight. I have been sent from the chateau to drive you there. Have you the portrait?”

I told him I had.

“That is good. If you will follow me I will take you to the carriage.”

I did so, and as I stepped into the carriage I wondered when I was going to stop feeling that quiver of alarm every time I got into a vehicle of any sort.

It was foolish to feel this now. I was on my way to Centeville and since there were no trains that night it was very thoughtful of them to have sent the carriage.

We drove quickly through the streets of the town and came out into the open country. It was just beginning to get dark.

“Is it far to the chateau?” I asked.

“It’s a fair drive, Mademoiselle. We could be there in just over an hour. The roads aren’t very good though. It’s all that rain we’ve been having.”

“Do they often have mishaps on the railway line?”

“On the branch one now and then. They’re not like the main lines from ” No, I suppose not. “

We had been driving for about half an hour when the carriage stopped with a jerk. The driver got down and surveyed it. I peered through the glass but could not see very much. There would be a half moon later but it had not yet put in an appearance, and it was not dark enough to see the stars.

The driver came round to the window looking dismayed.

“We’re stuck in a rut,” he said.

“I don’t like the look of the wheel.”

“Where are we?”

“Oh. I know the place well. We’re about five miles from the chateau.”

“Five miles. That’s not so very far.”

“There’s a bit of forest over there … hunting place. There’s a lodge too. You’ll be comfortable enough. I reckon you could wait there while I get the wheelwright.”

“We are near a village then?”

“Not far. I know this place like the back of my hand. Nothing to fret about.”

I thought: Another mishap! And in another carriage! It seems that carriages and I do not get along very well together.

“If you would like to get out, Mademoiselle, I’ll take you into the lodge. Then I can get a message down to the castle. I reckon the best thing is for them to send up another carriage. Yes, that would be best. Shall I give you a hand, Mademoiselle?”

He helped me down. I took the miniature with me. I had no intention of losing sight of that. We walked across the road and I could see the forest he had mentioned; and yes, there was a house among the trees. I saw a light in one of the windows.

The driver knocked on the door, which was opened immediately by a plump woman holding a candle.

“Mon Dieuf she cried.

“Is it you then, Jacques Petit?”

“Yes, Marthe, it’s only old Jacques. I’ve got the young lady artist here. There’s been a mishap with the carriage. I don’t trust that wheel and don’t fancy going on with it. I thought at first of getting the wheelwright but perhaps I’d better leave it till morning. If you look after the young lady, I’ll take one of the horses and get down to the chateau. Then they can send for her.”

“Well, bring the lady in. Don’t leave her out there. What will she be thinking of us.”

She was a cosy-looking woman, large-hipped and large-busted, dressed in black with pieces of jet shining on her bodice. Her greying hair was drawn off her face and ended in a sizeable knot at the nape other neck.

“Come along in,” she cried.

“My goodness, you would have thought Jacques Petit would have looked to his wheels before he set out. It’s not the first time that sort of thing has happened, I can tell you.

Are you cold? “

“No, not at all thank you.”

“I keep a bit of a fire in the evenings. It’s cosy.”

There was a pot on the fire and something savoury simmering in it.

“You’d better make yourself cosy. It’ll take him the better part of an hour to get there. Then he’s got to see about a carriage.”

“It was fortunate that it happened here,” I said.

“It was indeed. I was just about to have a bite to eat. Will you join me? I’m Marthe Bouret. We’ve kept this lodge for years. It’s not used much now, but they used to do a bit of hunting in the old days. I remember the old Baron when he came here. But now … well, it’s very near the castle and they wouldn’t want to stay the night here, being only five miles or so away. The Baron used it when he was a boy, though. He liked to do that. Used to have his young friends here. I remember them days. Not much to offer you, I’m afraid. Just the pot aufeu.” She nodded towards the pot on the fire.

“Not as if I had been expecting visitors … but there’s some bread and some good cheese and a drop of wine. It’s castle wine and I can recommend that.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re very kind.”

“Well, by the look of it it will be some time before you get anything to eat at the castle. I’ll just set a cloth on the table.”

“Do you live here all by yourself?”

“Just now I’m here by myself. It’s my job to keep the place in order.

This is my little cottage part. It joins on the lodge really. I have girls in to help me. We manage. “

“I see.”

“Is that the picture?”

“Yes.”

“Shall I put it out of harm’s way. I heard the Baron is very eager to see it.”

“Yes. That is why I have brought it myself. I am anxious to know what he thinks of it.”

“I’ll put it here on this table. Wouldn’t do to get the stew on it, would it? Then you’d have to do your work all over again.”

“It’s well wrapped up,” I told her.

“Shall I take your cloak or do you want to keep it on?”

“Thanks. I’ll take it off. It’s very warm in here.”

She took my cloak and hung it in a cupboard. Then she opened a drawer and took out a white cloth, which she put on the table. I was rather hungry and the stew smelt appetizing. She took plates to the fire and ladled it out.

There was a small cupboard in one corner of the room. It was about waist high and had a flat top which could be used as a shelf. She took out a bottle of wine and poured out a glass for me which she brought to the table.

“You’ll find it good. It was a good year. We had plenty of sun. A vintage year. You’ll enjoy it.”

She looked at the bottle.

“Oh, I’ve given you the last. Never mind.

There’s another in the cupboard. She opened another bottle, poured out a glass for herself and returned to the table.

She lifted hers to me.

“The very best of good fortune, Mademoiselle. I hope your stay at the chateau will be a happy one.”

“Thank you,” I replied, ‘and the best of good fortune to you. “

“My,” she said, “I feel honoured, I do, having a famous artist sitting at my table.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. I should have hated to sit in the carriage waiting for someone to come and rescue me.”

“Good fortune for us both,” she said. She tilted her glass and drank deeply. I did the same.

“Let me fill your glass.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She took it to the cupboard and refilled it.

“Your chateau is delicious,” I told her.

“It’s a family secret.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to divulge it.”

“You speak good French Mademoiselle. That’s a mercy or this would be a bit of a dumb show.”

I laughed. I was beginning to feel a little sleepy. It was the warmth of the fire . the food . the wine, I supposed. My eyelids seemed as though they would press down. It was getting harder to stay awake.

“Feeling a bit drowsy are you?” I heard her voice, which seemed to come from some distance. I saw her face near my own. She was peering at me, smiling.

“It’s the wine,” she was saying.

“Makes you sleepy. I reckon you was tired after that journey. Never mind … a little nap never harmed anybody.”

It was unnatural. I had not been tired when I arrived and it was not very late. I felt I was being rather impolite after she had taken such pains to entertain me.

Something was happening. There were voices . I struggled with the overpowering drowsiness. Somewhere at the back of my mind I thought:

It’s Jacques, back with the carriage. He hasn’t been long . or am I dreaming?

Sleeping . sleeping . the room was fading away. Someone was close, looking at me. Someone had taken my hands. I felt myself lifted up. Then I was completely lost in darkness.

I awoke suddenly. I did not know where I was. I was in a strange room.

I was lying. naked . on a bed and my hair was loose.

I tried to lift myself, but my head was swimming and I felt dizzy. I was dreaming and this was some sort of nightmare. Where was I? I could not remember what could have brought me here.

I tried again. Something stirred beside me . someone.

I gave a little scream. My eyes had grown accustomed now to the darkness. I saw a window with bars across and my eyes could make out the outline of pieces of furniture.

I fought off the dizziness and sat up.

Immediately hands were pulling me down, strong hands. A voice said:

“Kate, my beautiful Kate …” It was a voice I knew. A voice I had often thought of. It convinced me that I was in some sort of nightmare.

I caught my breath and as I did so he pulled me down; he forced himself down on me. I cried out in disbelieving horror. This could not be happening to me. It was indeed a nightmare. I must wake up quickly.

But I did not wake up. I heard his triumphant laugh, and it was in truth the Baron who was misusing me . and something told me that he had always intended to do this and that at the back of my mind I had known it. feared it . dreaded it . and the shame of it half wanted it. I tried to shout out, but his mouth was over mine pressing down on me. I was aware of the strength of him and was powerless. I tried to struggle but my limbs were leaden. There was nothing I could do to resist him.

It was a shattering experience. I felt as though I were floating above the Earth into a world which was quite unknown to me. Strange, hitherto undreamed of sensations took possession of me. I was not resisting any more. I felt myself to be part of him . and I was fighting against a sense of exhilaration which threatened to overwhelm me.

It was over almost as soon as it had begun. He drew away from me, but his lips were still on my face and he was kissing me almost tenderly.

“Dear Kate,” he murmured.

I was struggling back to reality. I put out my hands and felt his body. I was trying to collect my thoughts as they eluded me. The heavy drowsiness was still with me and I felt a great urge to close my eyes and lie there trying to recapture that strange sensation which I had just experienced.

His arms were about me. They felt like iron bands. I heard his voice whispering words which seemed strange coming from him.

“Kate … sweet Kate … Oh Kate, how happy you have made me.”

I heard myself say: “This is a nightmare.”

“It’s a heavenly dream,” he corrected me.

“Dreams … dreams …”

“Kate.” His mouth was close to my ear. He nibbled it gently.

“Don’t try to think now. You can’t. You’re still in a state of blissful pleasure. Don’t try to wake yourself out of it … yet.”

Now was the time for me to wake up, to find myself in bed at the castle, perhaps, since that had been where I was remembering I had been going. No doubt I had arrived late and so tired that I had slept heavily . and being in the castle had had this strange dream.

But the bars at the windows . They suggested a prison. A prison!

I felt consciousness coming back. This was not a dream. I was still here. I was lying in a bed with the Baron . and we were . lovers. Lovers! What a travesty of the word!

I tried to sit up, but he held me down. I could not but be aware of how strong he was and how puny I was in comparison.

“This can’t be true,” I said.

His voice was low and triumphant.

“But it is. Too late for regrets now, Kate. It has happened. You and I… as I knew as soon as I set eyes on you it must be … and it was going to be.”

I continued to struggle.

“Be still, Kate,” he said.

“You’re bewildered. You are just realizing what has happened. Last night you became my beloved mistress.”

“This is… madness.”

“The effect of the wine is still with you. It will last some time yet.

It had to be, Kate. It was the only way. Now if I had appeared suddenly and said “I want you, Kate. My desire for you is so overwhelming that it must be satisfied” what would you have said?

You would have laughed me to scorn even though somewhere at the back of your mind was the thought: How I should like to give myself up to the pleasure he can provide. He is the only one. I want to be taken by him as his ancestors took women when they raided the coast. “

My mind was clearing with every passing moment. I murmured: “I was with that woman …”

“My good servant.”

“The carriage had broken down …”

“It was all arranged, darling. I’m sorry it had to be like that. If you had come willingly … but you never would. Your stern upbringing would have suppressed your natural instincts and you would have convinced yourself that they did not exist.”

“I can’t …”

“Don’t try. Lie still. Oh Kate, it was wonderful. You are magnificent.

You’re a woman as well as an artist. I admire you so much, Kate. “

Through my befugged sensations came the appalling realization of what had happened. He had planned it and I had been the victim of. rape.

I, Kate Collison, had been raped by the man I most detested . this arrogant Baron who thought he had only to beckon to a woman to make her come running. He followed the customs of his marauding ancestors who had lived by rape and pillage. And I. had been his victim. I could not believe it. even now. “

I said: “Let me get out of here.”

“My dearest Kate, you will go at my pleasure.”

“At your pleasure! You are a monster.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“But in your heart you rather like this monster, Kate. I will have you recognized as a great artist. Just think what I have done for you already.”

“I can think of nothing but what you have just done to me.”

“Proud Kate, taken in a drunken stupor.”

“That wine was drugged. That woman …”

“Don’t blame her. She was obeying orders.”

“A sort of pander…”

“Hardly an apt description. What is done is done, Kate. You are a woman now. You and I have explored the realms of delight together... ”

“Of degradation!” I said.

“You are cynical. You are laughing at me.

That is what I would expect of you. “

“Do you hate me still?”

“A thousand times more than I ever did.”

“Perhaps while you are here I can make you change your mind.”

“The more time I spent with you, the more I should hate you. What do you mean … while I am here?”

“You are detained … on my baronial pleasure.”

“You can’t mean you would keep me here.”

He nodded.

“I could,” he said.

“For what purpose?”

“I thought I had demonstrated that.”

“You’ve gone mad.”

“Mad with desire for you.”

I tried to rise but he was still holding me down, and when I lifted my head I felt dizzy.

“What is your purpose?” I demanded.

“First to turn a rather haughty self-possessed young lady into a warm and passionate woman.”

“I will never feel anything but hatred and contempt for you. And you say … first…”

“There is something else.”

“Well?”

“I think we will discuss it later when you are feeling a little refreshed.”

“I want to know now.”

“My dear Kate, it is I who make the rules here. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

“What am I supposed to be … a sort of slave?”

“A very favoured slave.”

I was silent, still trying to convince myself that I was not dreaming.

His voice was gentle in my ear.

“Try to be calm, Kate. Accept this.

You and I have been lovers all through this night. “

“Lovers! You are not a lover of mine and never will be.”

“Well, just say that last night you became my mistress. That’s rather important.”

I felt weak suddenly and very frightened. It seemed that my life had taken an abrupt turn into an entirely different world.

“Sleep, dear Kate,” he said soothingly and he gathered me up in his arms as though I were a baby.

I must have slept, for when I awoke it was morning. My head had cleared and I sat up in bed and looked about me. I was alone. I realized that I was naked and when I saw the bars across the windows, the monstrous happenings of the previous night came flooding back to me.

I looked about the room. It was like a part of the castle-large, with a high vaulted roof supported by strong stone pillars. There was a great fireplace and the embers there showed that there had been a fire last night. The bed was large and had velvet curtains about it and there were carpets on the floor. In spite of this it was like a medieval stronghold.

I had undergone a change. I felt bruised and unclean. I had to face the truth. He had brought me up here; he had taken off my clothes, put me into this bed and committed rape.

I put my hands over my face as the hot flush spread there. Nothing would ever be the same again. Since I had come to France everything had changed. The cosy world ofFarring-don was slipping away from me and I had been plunged into intrigue . and rape . the sort of thing that had happened centuries ago.

And there was one man who was responsible for this. I could not get his face out of my mind. I realized I had been seeing it ever since I had left the castle. I had seen it in the gargoyles of Notre Dame. I had seen it in my dreams. I wondered briefly if he had some supernatural power-a gift passed on from those pirate forebears.

I had to be calm. I had to consider the position in which I found myself. I think I had always known that he had desired me. There was something in the way he had looked at me right from the beginning. I should have been warned, for when he desired a woman he thought he had the right to take her, whether she was willing or not. That was what the marauding Normans had done, and he lived up to the old traditions.

I should never feel the same again. I should never feel clean. He had defiled me and gloried in it. He thought that because he had humiliated me, he had made me his slave.

I had to get out of here quickly. Then I would think about revenge.

Nowadays no man should be allowed to act as he had done. It was all very well to make love to a woman if she consented. But to snare a virtuous woman and drug her and then take advantage of the situation, that was the way cowards and demons worked.

My hatred was so intense that I was shaking. I must get out of here.

That was the first thing. I would go down to the woman who had given me the wine. I would tell her that I was going to the police.

Could I? How? I imagined he controlled most things round here. He would say: “She spent the night with me willingly …” For he was capable of anything. Lies would be second nature to him.

I would dress immediately.

I stepped out of bed. I looked at the pillow still indented where his head had been. I punched it in sudden fury and was then ashamed of my childish gesture. It was an act of petulant folly and in spite of what happened I prided myself on being a sensible woman.

I had been betrayed. I had been raped. My attacker had been the one man in the world whom I hated most. But it was done. I had been violated. My body . my mind . my freedom to act had been taken into his control. I had been forced.

But now . the first thing was to get out of this place.

I looked for my clothes. I could not find them. They were all gone . my shoes . everything.

There was a counterpane on the bed and I wrapped this round me. Then I set out to explore. To my momentary delight the door was not locked. I was on a kind of landing and before me was a small flight of stone stairs the usual spiral kind cut out of the wall, wide at one end and narrowing by the post. I saw that there was one room in which there were toilet facilities. I caught sight of a mirror on a table and a wash basin and ewer. There were cupboards. I thought my clothes might be in one of them, so I opened them all. There were towels and such things, but no clothes.

I saw that there was another room. In this were a table and chairs. It might have been a dining-room. But there were no clothes.

Cautiously I descended the stairs. A big door was facing me. It had iron studs in it and looked very strong. I tried to open it. It was locked.

I looked about me. Barred windows everywhere, a heavy locked door, and no clothes. I was indeed the prisoner of the Baron’s pleasure.

I was suddenly frantic. My resolutions to be calm slipped away from me.

How long would he keep me here? Would he come again? I would refuse to drink more wine. Perhaps he would not care. He could easily overpower me. I had been aware of his immense strength last night.

Locked up here . within these stone walls with barred windows I should not have a chance.

I started to hammer on the door. Then I sat down on the stone step and gave way to my despair.

I heard a voice.

“All right. All right. I’m coming!”

I was alert and kept my eyes on the door. If it was the woman I had seen last night, I might be able to get past her. I might find my clothes. My baggage might be somewhere here. The man-Jacques Petit -he had brought it in from the carriage last night If I could get dressed I could escape. This place was on the road-five miles or so from Centeville. I had an idea of the direction. I could only think of escape.

I heard a key turning in the lock. The door creaked open. I was waiting, tense.

The woman was carrying a copper jug of hot water. She came in and set it down. It was my chance and I took it. I dashed to the door. A man was standing there. He was tall and his arms were folded across his chest. He shook his head at me. I tried to elude him, but he caught me and lifting me up as though I were a child, he put me back behind the door.

Then he shut it.

“No use,” said the woman, looking as cosy as she had on the previous night.

“There are guards.”

I cried out: “What is this? Some medieval game?”

“Baron’s orders,” she answered.

She lifted the jug and went up the stairs to the room where I had seen the basin and ewer.

“Now,” she said briskly,” I brought the water first because I thought you’d be one of them ladies as like to wash first. Now I’ll bring your petit dejeuner. You’ll find everything you want. I’ll bring you something to put on. That bed coverlet is not ideal, is it? And your poor feet? These stone floors can be that cold don’t I know it.”

I followed her up and when she had put down the jug I caught her arm.

“You gave me drugged wine last night,” I said.

She lifted her shoulders.

“You deceived me … wickedly.”

“It was orders,” she said.

“Baron’s orders,” I repeated.

She was silent.

I went on: “Does he make a habit of this sort of thing?”

“You never know what he’s going to do. He’s had ladies here before . Most of them have come willingly, if you know what I mean.”

“And the unwilling ones have to be drugged?”

“Well, we’ve not had any of those before… only them that had to be persuaded, like.”

“It’s like finding oneself back five hundred years. Bring my clothes . my own clothes.”

She shrugged her shoulders again.

I let her go and went into the toilet room. At least I should feel a little better if I washed. I felt emotional as I saw myself in the mirror. There were bruises on my body and I was glad of my long hair which covered me like a cloak. I felt better when I had thoroughly washed and by that time the woman came back with hot coffee and rolls with butter and preserves.

I resisted the impulse to run to the stairs because I knew that was futile.

She took the tray into the room which I had thought was a dining-room and set it on the table. Then she was gone but in a few moments she was back carrying a long fur-trimmed robe. It was greenish with a thread of gold in it and the fur edged the hem as well as the long wide sleeves. She carried three pairs of satin sandals.

“I wasn’t sure of the size,” she said comfortably.

“Oh my God, does he have victims of various sizes?”

“It’s for you to choose, Mademoiselle.”

Clothes were necessary for me if I was to plan some action so I selected a pair of the sandals and took the robe from her.

When she had gone I put it on. It was soft and silken and very comfortable. It was amazing what a difference washing and putting on clothes made to me.

I was surprised that I could eat anything, but I did and the coffee was good. As Soon as I had drunk it I thought I had been a fool to touch it. How could I know whether anything was drugged or not.

But why should he want to drug me now; he had done his evil work.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually.

I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It vas as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually. , I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time1 found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually.

I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually.

I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

He was dressed in a robe not unlike my own. It was deep blue and, like mine, the sleeves were edged with fur, as was the hem.

“You could never break those,” he said.

“They were made to withstand any onslaught.” He came towards me. I turned sharply away, but he caught me firmly and tried to kiss me. For a second or so I eluded him, then he released me but caught me again, taking my face in his two hands, finding my mouth and holding me in a hideous embrace.

Oh God, help me, I thought, it’s beginning again.

He released me, smiling.

“I trust the day has not been too monotonous without me,” he said.

“Any day would be better for not having you in it,” I retorted.

“Ungracious still! I had hoped that you, being a reasonable woman, would come to terms with the inescapable.”

“If you ever think I would come to terms with you, you are mistaken.”

“We came to terms once … about the picture, I mean. By the way, I like the one you brought. A worthy Collison.”

I turned back to the window. I wanted to look anywhere but into his face.

“I also like the sketch.”

“What sketch?”

“The one you did of me, of course. It is so gratifying to know that even when I am not here I am in your thoughts. Am I really as terrible as that? I recognize the thing. I’ve often seen it. It’s at the top of the steps, isn’t it? It’s recognized as being the most grotesque and evil gargoyle in the whole of Paris.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And you have made it my face. Mon Dieu, Kate, you are a clever artist. It’s undoubtedly that particular gargoyle and yet I’m there too. We are combined.”

“It represents the forces of evil,” I said.

“I know what those gargoyles mean now. They were modelled on evil men demons … such as ordinary people do not know exist. But they existed when Notre Dame was built and they exist today. At least one of them does.”

“True. But there is a little good in the worst of us. Did you know that?”

“I would find it hard to believe of you.”

“You are ungrateful. Who launched you into the Paris world of art?”

“You liked the picture I had painted and said so. I don’t think such an act will assure you of a place in Heaven.”

“I’m thinking of this life rather than the life to come. I intend to enjoy this one to the full.”

“Which I believe you do … at the expense of others.”

“Some have the good sense to want what I want.”

“Some may have the greater good sense to fight you.”

“Which would be mere folly if the odds were against them.”

“You mean … as they are with me at this time?”

“I fear so, Kate. Will you be gentle tonight? I know how you can be.

Will you forget that you have to pretend you do not like me? “

“It is impossible to forget something which is so blatantly true.”

“You hate me as a person? Is that so? You despise everything I do. I have a certain power which allows me to get what I want now and then.

That you hate. I understand it. But forget it, Kate. Think of me only as your lover. “

“You talk nonsense.”

“No. I talk from a superior knowledge of the emotions.”

“Please do not attempt to tell me what I feel.”

“I have had great experience of women.”

“You speak the truth there for once.”

“I know how you feel towards me. You hate me … but hate and love can be very close, Kate, in certain moments. Passion is blind to the differences of the mind. This is a mating of bodies. You and I were made for each other and that fierce reluctance of yours . too fierce to be entirely natural . - . just adds to the perfection. Do you understand what I mean? “

“No.”

“Then I shall teach you.”

“I would rather be taught how to escape from the place, to leave you and never see you again.”

“Much as I would like to indulge you in all things, you ask too much.”

“How long do you intend to keep me here?”

“That depends. Would you like a little wine before we sup?”

“Drugged wine?”

“Oh no. That was only for convenience in the first instance. Just while we got over the er preliminaries. It won’t be necessary now.”

“Just ordinary common rape?”

“How outspoken you are! You astonish me. I should not have thought a well-brought-up lady would talk in such a way.”

“Who would believe that a well-brought-up lady would be in such a position.”

“Such things happen a great deal more frequently than you would think.

One doesn’t hear of them. I will tell them to bring in the wine. “

I watched him go to the door, the blue robe swinging round him.

He was in the dining-room. If I could get down the stairs, surprise the guards . He was beside me, smiling at me.

“You would never do it,” he said.

“And suppose you got out? Imagine being on the road dressed like that.

No money. People would think you were mad. “

“What have I ever done to you that you should treat me like this?”

“Bewitched me, for one thing. Come. They are bringing the wine.”

The woman came in and set it on the table. He went over to it and poured two glasses. One he handed to me.

“Drink it,” he said.

I took the glass, but did not drink. He went to the table and took his, sipping it, looking at me.

“I assure you … no drugs,” he said.

“Here. Give me your glass. You take mine.”

He took mine and thrust his into my hand. He drank quickly.

“There, you see.”

My throat felt dry and parched. I felt I needed some stimulation if I were to face what lay before me. I sipped a little of the wine.

“That’s better,” he said.

“When my father hears what has happened,” I began, and I hesitated, wondering what my father would do.

“Yes,” he prompted.

I was silent.

“Suppose I said, ” She came other own free will. She was so insistent that gallantry demanded that I comply. “

“Would even you be capable of such lies?”

“You know that I would. Can you think of anything evil of which I should not be capable? No, Kate. You can do nothing, and wise woman that you are, you know this. Therefore you will, metaphorically, shrug your shoulders and make the best of your fate.”

“I do not give in so easily.”

“I’m glad in a way. I wouldn’t want you to be other than the strong woman you are.”

He drained off the wine.

“Come,” he said, taking my arm.

“I will conduct you in to supper.”

I refused to take his arm and he seized me and put mine through his. It was a gesture which implied that even on the slightest matter he was going to have absolute obedience.

The servants had gone. The table looked beautiful with the eight lighted candles of the candelabrum. He took me to a chair at the table and pressed me down into it. Then he took his place opposite me. The table was not large, as it had obviously been made for two, so he was close to me.

“There is soup,” he said, lifting the lid of the tureen, ‘and I shall serve you. The old woman is an excellent cook and I am sure you will enjoy this. “

He handed me the plate but I turned away, so he sighed and brought it round to me.

“Please don’t be tiresome,” he said.

I stood up but he ignored me and started on the soup.

“Pheasant, I think,” he commented.

“Excellent. Where are you going? Are you so eager for bed?”

I sat down helplessly. The soup did smell delicious. He brought me a glass of wine.

“Undrugged, I promise you,” he said again.

I looked at him defiantly and started on the soup.

“That’s better,” he said, lifting his glass.

“To us. Suspicious still?

I’ll drink some of mine and pass it to you. A sort of loving cup. “

I am going to fight him, I thought. I am going to use all my strength to resist him. I’ll eat . sparingly . but I must eat.

He drank and offered his glass to me. I did not want to drink much wine, which would make me sleepy. Yet on the other hand, might it not be more bearable if I felt drowsy? Would I be more resigned to accepting what I knew had to come?

“Such deep thoughts,” he said.

“I can only guess at them. Now a little of this venison. I told them to serve something cold as I did not want them intruding on us while we ate. I

thought you would prefer it that way. You see, Kate, how I consider you. “

“I have noticed that,” I said with heavy sarcasm.

“Of course, as an artist you are observant. You shall do another miniature of me. I so much enjoyed our sittings. Your little deceit was so amusing.”

I was silent. He ate a great deal and I went on thinking of the possibilities of escape. Would that woman come in to remove the dishes? If she left the door open . It was just hopeless and I knew it. I felt furiously angry and yet I could not suppress a certain indefinable excitement.

“The venison is good, is it not?” he said.

“She has done well, our old woman. You must not blame her … or the coachman. They were merely obeying orders.”

“I know that.”

“So you see they could do no other than what they did.”

“All must do the will of the mighty Baron.”

“That is so. They are not to be blamed. You must blame me, but guileless virgins who cease to live in that debatably happy state cannot be entirely blameless either.”

“Save your crude jests for those who enjoy them.”

“I will,” he replied.

“But you are here, Kate, and how easily you walked into the trap. You should have enquired about the trains … not just walked into the web. You were very quick in Paris.”

I stared at him.

“Ah. I see I have caught your attention at last.”

“Are you talking about that cab?”

“It was rather clumsy, wasn’t it? Too involved, too tricky. We had to get you across Paris and you were too sharp for us. You were beginning to know the city too well and you realized you were going in the wrong direction. You jumped out. That was a very dangerous thing to do.

Knowing the Paris drivers, I wonder you were not run over. A foolish plan, really. Not worthy of me. It just came to me on the spur of the moment and it appealed to the sense of adventure in me. I realized almost at once that it was not very clever and it owed a lot to chance too. He’d been several days trying to pick you up. “

“Why did you do it?”

“I should have thought that was obvious.”

“So you were determined on … rape.”

“Well, I was hoping to achieve my ends to our mutual satisfaction.”

“You are a monster.”

“Worthy to deface the facade of Notre Dame.”

“I would not have believed that any man of today could behave as you have done.”

“Your knowledge of the world is not very great.”

“Perhaps I have lived my life among civilized people until-‘ ” Until now. I am sure that is true. But alas, my dear Kate, you have become the victim of the most depraved. “

“Can I appeal to your sense of honour … your sense of decency … to let me go?”

“There is no sense in appealing to something which does not exist. If I let you go now you cannot change yourself back into the woman you were before last night.”

“I want only to get away from you, to try to forget I ever saw you .. never to see you again.”

“But I want just the opposite. I want you to stay here and remember me forever. The best lover you ever had, for I shall be that, Kate.”

I felt bewildered. I was living again that nightmare ride in the cab.

The Princesse said it had been arranged by the Baron and she had been right about that, though not for the reason she had suggested. I was thinking of that moment when I had opened the door and stepped out almost under the horse’s nose. And all so that he might satisfy his lust.

I stood up suddenly.

“Let me go,” I cried.

He was beside me.

“Now, Kate,” he said, ‘you know very well that I am not going to let you go. That will come in good time. Be patient. Our little adventure is not yet over. “

He was about to seize me and I picked up a knife which was lying on the table. I turned the blade towards him.

He laughed.

“What!” he cried.

“Would you kill me then? Oh, Kate! I never would have thought that of you.”

“Do not goad me too far,” I cried.

“If I killed you it would be no great calamity for the world.”

He opened the robe he was wearing and bared his chest.

“Come along, Kate,” he said.

“Right through the heart. It’s about there, I think.”

“You would be surprised if I did.”

“I should be in a condition where it would not be possible to show my surprise. What are you waiting for?”

“I said don’t goad me too far.”

“That’s exactly what I meant to do.”

I lunged at him. He caught my wrist and the knife dropped to the floor.

“You see, Kate,” he said, ‘you couldn’t do it. “

“I could. You prevented me. If you were so sure, why did you make me drop the knife.”

“To save your feelings. I’ll tell you this: Well-brought-up English ladies do not stab their lovers. They try to shatter them with words . with tears perhaps … but not knives.”

“You have a great deal to learn about well-brought-up English ladies.”

“I have … and I am rejoicing in the education.”

He had taken me now and was holding me against him.

“Kate,” he said softly, ‘sweet Kate, it is no use fighting. Submit. I should like to see you submissive. I should like you to put your arms about me and tell me that you are so happy that I brought you here. ”

I drew myself away from him and because he held me at As arms’ length, I began beating that bare chest. He was laughing at me.

He knew as well as I did, that I should never have used that knife against him. He was right. People who had been brought up as I had did not do such things-no matter what was done to them.

He swept me up in his arms. I wriggled and tried to break away, but he revelled in making me aware of his strength.

“You make me impatient,” he said.

It was a long time afterwards before I could bring myself to think of that night. It had been different from the previous one. Then I had been in a drugged state and only half aware. I fought him . with all my strength I fought him . knowing from the first moment that I could not win. But I hoped I showed him my resentment, my loathing, my anger, my fury. At least that offered some balm to my humiliated senses.

But he did not care. He liked that. After all, his very nature was that of a fighter.

Perhaps I realized that I was playing into his hands. I was giving him what he wanted, because, for a man of his nature, the greater the resistance, the greater the triumph when victory was won.

And victory was inevitable. I might score occasionally in our verbal battles but physically I was no match for him.

But I fought. how I fought! I whipped up my hatred for him and somewhere at the back of my mind I realized that I was fighting not only him but something in myself. some erotic curiosity, some desire for this conflict. some craving for the ultimate satisfaction. I was vanquished but I felt a certain wild exhilaration in defeat and the stronger my hatred, the greater my excitement.

The bed was like a battlefield that night.

The next day passed as the previous one. I was beginning to feel I had spent a lifetime in my prison. I wondered whether his object was to keep me here until he had subdued my spirit to such an extent that I meekly submitted to him. If he ever did that, I felt, he would probably be tired of the adventure and let me go.

Sometimes still I thought I was dreaming. There was such an atmosphere of unreality about the whole matter, and yet, knowing him, I supposed it was natural enough.

He saw a woman; he thought he would like to seduce her and he set about his purpose. But he had known that there would never have been an easy submission with me. It had to be force, and so it had been.

The evening supper was served as before. I thought he was a little different. Was there a shade of regret. tenderness. Oh no. That was too strong a word. He could never be tender. However, there was a change in him and I wondered what it meant.

He said rather soberly as he poured the wine: “Kate, it has been a wonderful experience … our being together.”

I was silent.

“Would you believe me if I told you I had never enjoyed an association so much?”

“No,” I said.

“It’s true. Why should I lie to you? There is no reason, is there?”

“I have not found you reasonable, so why should I expect you to be so now?”

“You will learn that my actions have been well within the bounds of reason. I really acted with a very good reason for doing so.”

“Which was the satisfaction of your lust, your desire to exert your malevolent powers.”

“Absolutely right. Dear Kate, what an observant woman you are.”

“It does not need a great deal of observation to assess a man’s character when his actions are those of a barbarian.”

"Not all. “

“You are going to remind me that you launched me on my career. I wish I had never heard of you. I wish I had never come to your castle and learned that there are people in the world who are nothing more than savages.”

“Such tirades are not very interesting and the theme of this one is becoming somewhat repetitious.”

“It must be when everything I say to you has to tell you how much I loathe and despise you.”

“Do you know, I got a different impression last night.”

“You have degraded me. You have treated me as no honourable man would ever treat a woman. What you have done is a criminal offence. In those old days of which you are so fond, you would have been hanged or sent to the galleys for what you have done.”

“Not a man in my position. I believe that one of my ancestors used to waylay travellers, bring them here and hold them to ransom. Yet he was never asked to account for his misdeeds.”

“A little game which might appeal to you.”

“It doesn’t appeal in the least. I have money in plenty.”

“How fortunate for the travellers!”

“If one has sufficient power and er expertise, shall I say, one can do a great deal which other people cannot. I am going to tell you a true story of one of my ancestors. Would you like to hear it?”

“I would prefer to walk out of this place and never see you again.”

“You would continue to see me in your mind’s eye and my voice would haunt your dreams.”

“I shall do everything in my power to wipe them from my memory.”

“Oh, Kate, has it been so hateful for you?”

“Words cannot describe how hateful. When I leave here I shall be able to see it in all its horror and I will never forget or forgive you for what you have done to me.”

“Those are harsh words.”

“Deservedly so.”

“Let me tell you this story of my ancestor. I think it will interest you.”

I did not answer and he went on: “It happened a long time ago, in the thirteenth century to be exact, in the reign of Philippe who was known as Le Bel because he was so handsome. This ancestor of mine was Florence, Earl of Holland. A strange name for a man, you think. But some names are used for men and women here. Florence was a man who had had many love-affairs.”

T can understand your affinity, though love-a. Sa. us seems an odd way to describe them. “

He ignored the interruption.

“Florence had a mistress to whom he was rather grateful. He had many mistresses, of course, but this one had become more important to him than any of the others had been. There came a time when he had finished with her and he wanted to see her settled into respectable marriage.”

“With someone else, I presume, since he no longer had any use for her?”

“Oh, you are listening then. I’m glad of that for I am sure you will find this very interesting. He asked one of his ministers to marry her. This minister indignantly refused, saying that he would never marry one of Florence’s castoff mistresses.”

“I am not surprised that he refused.”

“Florence didn’t like it. He was very powerful. Can you guess what he did?”

I was looking at him intently now and slow horror was beginning to dawn on me. I said: “You want to tell me, don’t you?”

“That minister was at the time enamoured of a woman whom he wished to marry. He married her and snapped his fingers at his master. There was no question then of his being forced to marry Florence’s mistress.”

“So poor Florence did not get his way for once?”

“Oh, he did. He never allowed anyone to get the better of him. Can you guess what he did. He waylaid the new wife one day and had her brought to his castle. Can you guess what happened?”

I stared at him in mounting horror.

“He kept her there for three days,” he said, watching me intently.

“The records say that he violated her against her will. Then he sent her back to his minister with a note saying:

“You were wrong. You see you did marry one of my mistresses.” ” ” What a terrible story. “

He was silent for a few moments, regarding me over the candelabrum.

“I tell you this,” he said, ‘to let you know what my ancestors were like. So what can you expect of me? “

“I knew already that they were barbarians. What happened to the noble Florence?”

“He was murdered later on.”

“Oh!” I’m glad. The story has the right ending after all. The wronged husband murdered him, I suppose. “

“It was generally believed to be so.”

“It should be a lesson to all barbarians.”

“Barbarians never learn that sort of lesson.”

“No, I suppose not.”

He was smiling at me. I felt sick with apprehension. This was beginning to take on a new meaning. Before I had felt I would fight every inch of the way even though the battle was lost. But now . I could not bear to think of what this meant. He was more cynical than I had believed even him to be.

I stood up. He said: “Are you ready? Where are you going?”

“I would go anywhere to get away from you.”

“Poor Kate!” he said and caught me in his arms.

For the first time I felt as though I want to burst into tears. I could see what he was doing. This was nothing to do with his desire for me. I was a symbol. He had discovered that Bertrand and I were betrothed and he had demanded that Bertrand marry Nicole. Bertrand had refused. So the Baron had taken me so that he could say as his ancestor had before him: “You will marry a mistress of mine after all, even though she is not the one I planned for you.”

I believe I could have killed him if I had been capable of the physical strength. He deserved the same fate as his ancestor.

“Kate,” he said.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I know you are capable of every evil, but you are not capable of loving anyone, so there is no need to tell blatant lies.”

“There is no need, is there, for me to say what I do not mean?”

“You love yourself… your pride … your lust … your greed . that is what you love.”

“I love myself, yes … but next to myself it’s you … for tonight.”

I laid a hand on his arm.

“Let me go … please?” I begged.

“So appealing. So beautiful,” he said and he picked me up in his arms.

I lay on the bed . supine . indifferent almost. Violation had become commonplace. My body was no longer my own. I was weary, tired of reiterating my hatred.

I murmured: “If only I could send time back. If only I could go back to the time when I was in Paris. I could go home … instead of coming here …”

“You would have missed the greatest experience of your life.”

“The greatest degradation.”

Then I lost my indifference and shouted at him . my hatred and contempt.

He did not heed me. He just turned to me and showed me once more that I was his to command.

It was morning. I was awakened by the sound of footsteps and voices. I sat up in bed. My robe was lying on the floor where he had thrown it.

Someone was coming into the room.

It was the Baron and with him . Bertrand.

I saw then that this was the final scene of a farce . comedy. tragedy. whatever he meant it to be. This was the climax towards which he had been working.

“Mademoiselle Collison is here,” he was saying.

“She has been here for three nights … with me. Well, Bertrand, there is no need for me to say more. I wish you a felicitous life together. I can assure you, Kate is a most desirable woman. Many will envy you. I myself for one.

And another time, Bertrand, don’t be a fool. Do as I tell you. You must not think because I have given you some independence you can flout me. “

That moment remains in my memory forever. There was a sudden stillness in the room. It was as though we were all inanimate outlines in a picture.

Bertrand stared at me first in amazement and then in growing understanding. Horror . disbelief. realization . disgust. I saw all those emotions in his face.

His lips formed my name: “Kate …”

I raised myself holding the coverlet about me.

I cried out: “I was brought here … drugged … forced …”

Bertrand continued to stare at me. Then he turned to the Baron who stood there smiling evilly . like the demon-gargoyle on Notre Dame.

He nodded slowly in affirmation.

“She fought like a wild cat,” he said.

“But I think we came to an … understanding.”

Bertrand’s face was distorted. I thought he was going to weep. Then suddenly his expression changed. There was nothing but hatred. He sprang at the Baron but that wicked man was waiting for him. Bertrand was at his throat but the Baron picked him up and threw him from him.

Bertrand went down and slid across the floor.

“Get up,” said the Baron.

“You are making a fool of yourself … and before Kate. Kate, your clothes will be brought up to you. Dress and take a little food.” He laid an envelope on the table.

“Here is the payment for the portrait as we arranged, and here also are the tickets you will need. You may leave in an hour’s time. The carriage will take you to the station. All the connections have been checked. I presume you will want to go straight to England for a rest before you take up your next commission. Bertrand can conduct you as far as he wishes.”

With that he turned away and left us.

Bertrand had picked himself up. He was shaken by the fall but not so much as he had been by what he had seen and heard.

I was sorry for him. I could see that his humiliation was almost as deep as my own; and I knew in that moment that I could never marry him. I could never marry anyone after this.

He stood looking at me.

“Kate,” he said.

“He … is a monster,” I said.

“I want to go home.”

He nodded.

“I want to leave this place at the earliest possible moment.”

The woman came in with my clothes and hot water. Bertrand left us.

“I’ll bring you some petit dejeuner,” said the woman, cosy as ever.

“No, thanks,” I said.

“I want nothing more here. I want to leave at once.”

She did not answer but set down the hot water. I washed hastily and dressed. It seemed strange to be in my own clothes again.

I even found the pins for my hair on the table with the mirror and I laughed a little hysterically to think how precisely everything had been taken-care of.

Dressed, I felt myself again a different person from the one in the furred robe and cloud of hair. Peering closely at my face I detected a difference there. What was it a look of worldliness? Eve must have looked like that after having eaten the forbidden fruit.

I descended the short spiral staircase. The great iron-studded door was open.

I found my way out of the tower and down to the room where it seemed so long ago I had partaken of pot aufeu and drugged wine.

Bertrand was outside with the carriage. There was no sign of the Baron. I supposed he had gone back to the castle. The little adventure which had ruined my life and brought him the satisfaction he had needed, was over.

I said: “Let us go. Let us get away from this place.”

So we went together.

Bertrand said very little during the journey. I thought it would never end. We had left Rouen and were approaching the coast.

I said to him: “There is no need for you to cross the Channel. I don’t need an escort in my own country.”

He nodded again.

When we reached Calais, there was an hour to wait for the packet-boat.

I said: “Don’t stay, Bertrand.”

“I will see you safely on board,” he replied.

He sat looking over the sea. Then he did talk a little.

He said: “I’ll kill him.”

“It would change nothing.”

“It would be a blessing for mankind.”

“Bertrand, don’t talk like that. It would be a double tragedy if you gave way to revenge.”

I was thinking: You would never do it. You could not. He would never allow it and he is the one who calls the tune.

Bertrand took my hand and pressed it. I tried not to show how I shrank from his touch.

Everything was changed. I believed I would never be able to shut out of my mind the images which crowded into it, and Rollo de Centeville dominated them all.

I did not think Bertrand wanted to marry me now. I had seen that look of revulsion in his eyes when he had looked at me in that bed. It was not that he did not believe I had been tricked and forced against my will . he believed all that without a doubt. He saw me as the victim I had been; but at the same time he could not forget that, as the Baron said, I had been his mistress.

I could never marry Bertrand. Everything between us had been over since that moment he came into the bedroom.

So for once Rollo would not have his way. The object had been to make Bertrand eat his words. He would marry one of the Baron’s castoff mistresses . so he had thought. He was fooled at last, for there would be no marriage.

I was glad to be alone.

His last words were: “I will write. We will work out something …”

I smiled at him. I knew it was over.

I leaned over the rail looking at the swirling water and I was filled with an angry resentment. I thought of that Kate Collison who had crossed the Channel not long ago setting out on a dangerous adventure.

And dangerous it had certainly been, for I had come within the orbit of that strange man, the barbarian who had changed my life.

Fury seized me. He had dared use me because he wished to show that he must be obeyed. Bertrand must obey him. It had nothing to do with his desire for me, which I had believed must have been great for him to go to such lengths to satisfy it.

That was the ultimate humiliation. That was what angered me deep down more than anything else that had happened to me.

Away in the distance I could see the white cliffs. The sight had a healing effect on me. I was going home.