Victoria Holt

The Devil On Horseback

DERRINGHAM MANOR

I

It was a sequence of unfortunate events which brought me to the Chateau Silvaine. My father was a sea captain who had gone down with his ship when I was five years old and, having lived in moderate comfort all her life, my mother found herself forced to earn a living for herself and her daughter. A penniless woman, said my mother, must either live through her mop or her needle, unless she has some education which can be turned to good purpose. Being a woman in this category, she had two courses open to her; she could teach the young or be a companion to the elderly; she chose the former of these alternatives. She was a woman of strong character, determined to succeed and, with very little means at her disposal, she rented a small lodge on the estate of Sir John Derringham in Sussex and started a school for young ladies.

For a few years, if it did not exactly flourish, it provided us with the necessities of life. I had been a pupil and had received an excellent education under my mother’s tuition-the inference from the beginning being that, in due course, I should join her as a teacher, which for the last three months I had done.

“There should be a good living for you here, Minella,” my mother used to say.

She had named me Wilhelmina after herself. The name suited her, but I never felt it fitted me as neatly. I had become Minella as a baby and the name had stayed with me.

I think my mother’s main pleasure in the school was the fact that it provided for me. The Derringham girls, Sybil and Maria, were pupils and that meant that other families sent their children. It saved having a governess in the house, they used to say. When visitors came to Derringham Manor and their children were with them, they became temporary pupils. My mother taught manners, deportment, dancing and French in addition to the Three Rs, and this was considered very unusual indeed.

Sir John was a generous and kindly man, eager to help a woman whom he admired as he did my mother. He had extensive lands watered by a small but very beautiful river in which trout flourished. Many rich people-some from the! Court-used to come to stay at the Manor for the fishing, pheasant shoots or to ride and hunt. These seasons were? important to us, because the fame of my mother’s school had I spread through Sir John’s circles, and families, who liked to have their children with them, brought them, and as my mother’s school was warmly recommended by Sir John, they were delighted to make use of it. These children who came to us for brief periods were, as my mother used to say in her downright way, the preserve on our bread. We could live on thej long-term pupils, but naturally higher fees were asked for temporary tuition so they were very welcome. I was sure Sir John knew this and it was why he took such pleasure in bringing them to us.

There came a day which was to prove significant in my life. This was when the French family of Fontaine Delibes came to stay at Derringham Manor. The Comte Fontaine Delibes was a man to whom I took an instant dislike. He seemed not only haughty and arrogant, but set himself apart from all other human beings on account of his superiority in every way. The Comtesse was different, but one saw very little of her.

She must have been beautiful in her youth not that she was old at this time, but in my immaturity I thought everyone over thirty old.

Margot at this time was sixteen years old. I was eighteen. I heard later that Margot had been born a year after the marriage of the Comte and Comtesse, when the latter was only seventeen years old herself. In fact, I discovered a good deal about the marriage from Margot who had, of course, been sent to our school through the kindly Sir John.

Margot and I were drawn together from the first. It might have been due to the fact that I had a natural aptitude for language and could chatter away with her in French with greater ease even than my mother (though she was more grammatical) and than Sybil and Maria whose progress in that language, said my mother, resembled that of a tortoise rather than a hare.

From our talks emerged the impression that Margot was not sure whether she loved or hated her father. She confessed Derringham Manor her fear of him. He ruled his household in France and the neighbouring countryside (which he appeared to own) like a feudal lord of the Middle Ages. Everyone appeared to be in considerable awe of him. He could at times be quite merry and generous too; but his persistent characteristic seemed to be his unpredictability. Margot told me that he would order a servant to be whipped one day and give that servant a purse of money the next. Not that the two incidents would have anything to do with each other. He never regretted any cruelty or rarely and his acts of kindness were’ not done out of remorse.

“Only once,” said Margot mysteriously, and when I tried to probe would say no more. She added with some pride that her father was referred to as Le D table (behind his back, of course).

He was very handsome in a dark satanic way. His looks fitted what I had heard of him. I saw him for the first time near the schoolhouse; seated on a black horse he really did look like something out of a legend. The Devil on Horse back, I named him on the spot, and I thought of him by that name for a long time. He was magnificently dressed. The French were, of course, exceptionally elegant, and although Sir John was a man who presented an immaculate appearance to the world, he could not compare with the Devil Count. The Devil’s cravat was a froth of exquisite lace, as were the frills at his wrists. His jacket was of bottle green and his riding hat of the same colour. He wore a wig of smooth white hair and diamonds glittered discreetly in the lace at his neck.

He did not notice me so I was able. to stand and stare.

Of course my mother was never a guest at Derringham Manor. Even the liberal minded Sir John would not dream of inviting a schoolmistress to his house, and although he was always polite and considerate (it being his nature to be so), we were naturally not regarded as equals socially.

In spite of this my friendship with Margot was encouraged because the association was thought to be good for her English, and when her parents returned to France Margot’ stayed behind to perfect her knowledge of our tongue. This delighted my mother who had one of her better-paying pupils for a longer period than usual. Margot’s parents-but mostly her father paid brief visits to the Manor now and then and this was one of those occasions when they were there.

Margot and I were constantly together and one day, as i reward, though not to be considered a precedent, I was invited to the Manor to tea that I might spend an hour or so with our pupils. My mother was pleased. After school was closed on the day before the party she was washing and ironing the only gown which she considered suitable for the occasion - a blue linej edged with rather fine lace which had belonged to my father! mother. She was purring with pride as she ironed, certain that her daughter could take her place among the mighty with th utmost ease. Was she not aware of all that was expected o her? Had she not been brought up to behave with poise amoru the exalted? Was she not more soundly educated for her year than any of them? (True. ) Was she not as handsome and well dressed? (A mother’s fondness, I feared, rather than a fact.

Armed with my mother’s confidence in me and my deter ruination to do her credit, I set out. Walking through the pini woods I could not say that I felt any undue excitement. So often had I been in class with Sybil, Maria and Margot, that should be in company to which I was well accustomed. I would merely be a different venue. But when I emerged from the woods and saw the house standing back from those gracious lawns, I could not help feeling a great pleasure at this prospect of entering it. Grey stone walls. Mullioned windows The original house had been reduced to a shell by Cromwell’! men and more or less rebuilt after the Restoration. A Danie Derringham, who had fought in the King’s cause, had been rewarded with a baronetcy and lands.

There was a stone path crossing the lawns on which grew some very ancient yews which must have survived the Round heads, for they were reputed to be two hundred years old. Ii the centre of one of the lawns was a sun-dial and I could not resist crossing the grass to look at it. There was an inscription on it almost obliterated by time and it was en graved in an elaborate script very difficult to decipher.

“Savour each hour,” I could read, but the rest of the writing was covered by greenish moss. I rubbed it with my finger and looked with dismay at the green stain there. My mo the would be reproachful. How could I arrive at Derringham Manor less than immaculate!

“It’s difficult to read, you find?”

Derringham Manor I turned sharply. Joel Derringham was standing behind me. So absorbed had I been in studying the sun-dial that I had been unaware of his approach on the soft grass.

“There is so much moss covering the words,” I replied.

I had rarely spoken before to Joel Derringham. He was the only son, aged about twenty-one or two. Even now he looked very like Sir John;

he would be exactly like him when he reached his age. He had the same light brown hair and pale blue eyes-the rather aquiline nose and kindly mouth. Considering Sir John and his son, the adjective which springs to mind is ‘pleasant’. They were kind and compassionate without being weak, and, when I come to think of it, that is about the greatest compliment one human being can pay another.

He smiled at me.

“I can tell you what they are:

‘ “Savour each hour Dwell not in the past. Live each day fully. It may be your last.” ‘

“Rather a grim warning,” I said.

“But sound advice.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” It occurred to me that Iought to explain my presence.

“I’m Wilhelmina Maddox,” I went on.

“And I have been invited to tea.”

“I know who you are, of course,” he said.

“Let me take you to my sisters.”

“Thank you.”

“I have seen you near the school,” he added, as we walked across the lawn.

“My father often says what an asset the school is to the neighbourhood.”

“It’s gratifying to be useful while earning a living.”

“Oh I agree. Miss … er … Wilhelmina. If I may say so, it is a little formal to suit you.”

“I am known as Minella.”

“That’s better. Miss Minella. Much better.”

We had come to the house. The heavy door was slightly ajar. He pushed it wide and we went into the hall. Tall windows, flagged floor, wonderfully vaulted roof with hammer beams it enchanted me. In the centre was the great oak refectory table with pewter plates and goblets. Armour hung on the stone walls out of which seats had been cut. The chairs were Carolean and a huge portrait of Charles II dominated! the hall. I paused for a few seconds to study that heavy sensuous face which might have been gross but for the twinkling humour in the eyes and a certain kindliness in the curve of the lips.

“The family’s benefactor,” he said.

“It’s a magnificent portrait.” “Presented by the Merry Monarch himself after he had visited us.” “You must love your house.”

“Well, one does. It has something to do with the family’s having lived here over the years. Even though it was almost;

rebuilt at the Restoration, parts of it go back to the Plantagenet era. “

Envy is not one of my faults but I did feel a twinge of it then. To belong to such a house, such a family, must give one a great sense of pride. It sat lightly on Joel Derringham. I doubted he had given the matter much thought. Always he would have accepted the fact that he had been born into this house and would in due course inherit it.

After all, he was the only son and therefore the undoubted heir.

“I suppose,” I said impulsively, ‘this is what is called being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. “

He looked startled and I realized that I was giving voice to my thoughts in a manner of which I could be sure my mother would not approve.

“All this,” I said, ‘yours . from the day you were born . simply because you were born here. How lucky you were! Suppose you had been born in one of the cottages on the estate! ”

“But I should not be myself with different parents,” he pointed out.

“Suppose two babies had been exchanged and one from the cottages brought up as Joel Derringham and you as the cottage child. Would anyone tell the difference when you grew up? ” ” I am very like my father, I believe. “

“That is because you have been brought up here.”

“I do look like him.”

Yes, you do . ,”

” Environment . birth . what does it have? It is a matter which has confounded the doctors for years. It is not something which can be solved in a few moments. “

“I’m afraid I have been rather impertinent. I was thinking aloud.”

“Certainly you were not. It’s an interesting theory.”

“I was overwhelmed by the house.”

“I’m glad it has that effect on you. You felt its antiquity … the spirits of my dead ancestors.”

“I can only say I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I liked your frankness. Shall I take you up now? They’ll be waiting for you.”

There was a staircase leading from the hall. We mounted this and came to a gallery hung with portraits. Then we went up a winding stair and were on a landing faced by several doors. Joel opened one of them and I immediately heard Sybil’s voice.

“She’s here. Come along in, Minella. We’re waiting.”

The room was what was known as the solarium because it had been built to catch the sun. At one end was a tapestry on a frame at which I discovered Lady Derringham was working. There was a spinning-wheel at the other end of the room. I wondered if anyone used that now. In the centre was a large table with a piece of needlework on it. I learned later the girls worked at it in this room. There was a harpsichord and a spinet and I could imagine how different the place would look when cleared for dancing, the candles nickering in their sconces and the ladies and gentlemen in their exquisite clothes.

Margot cried in her accented English: “Do not stand there goggle-eyed, Minelle.” (She always adapted our names to her own language. ) “Have you never seen a solar before?”

“I expect,” said Maria, ‘that Minella finds this rather different from the schoolhouse. “

Maria meant to be kind but I often found a sting in her kindness. She was the more snobbish of the Derringham girls.

Joel said: “Well, I’ll leave you girls. Goodbye, Miss Maddox.”

As the door shut on him Maria demanded: “Where did you meet Joel?”

“When I was coming to the house. He brought me in.”

“Joel always feels he has to help everybody,” said Man “He’d carry a basket for a kitchen girl if he thought it was to heavy for her. Mama says it’s demeaning, and so it is. Jo should know better.”

“And look down his aristocratic nose at the schoolmistress I said sharply, ‘for after all, since she is so far beneath hil it is a wonder he notices her at all.” j Margot shrieked with laughter.

“Bravo, Minellel’ she erie ” And if Joel should know better, so should you, Marie. New cross swords . is that right? ” I nodded.

“Never cross swon with Minella because she will always beat you, and if she is th schoolmistress’s daughter and you are the squire’s … never mind. She is the clever one.” :

“Oh Margot,” I cried, ‘you are ridiculous. ” But I knew the tone of my voice thanked her for coming to my aid.

“I shall ring for tea now you are here,” said Sybil, remembering her duties as hostess.

“It will be served in the school room.” ;

As we talked I looked about me, taking in my surroundings and thinking how pleasant my encounter with Joel Derringham had been and how much more likeable he was than his sisters. Tea was served, as Sybil had said, in the schoolroom. Then was thin bread and butter with cherry cake and little roun< buns flavoured with caraway seeds. A servant hovered while Sybil poured the tea. At first we were a little formal but then soon were chattering away as we did at school, for although my role was now that of a teacher, not so long ago I ha been a pupil with them.

Margot surprised me by suggesting a game of hide an” seek, for it was rather childish and she prided herself on ha worldliness. i;

“You are always wanting to play that silly game,” said Sybil ‘and then you disappear and we can never find you. ” ‘s Margot shrugged her shoulders.

“It amuses me,” she said’ The Derringham girls were resigned. I supposed they have been told they must humour their guest.

She pointed to the floor.

“All of them down there will have finished their afternoon naps and be taking tea in the drawing-room. It’s fun.

Though better at night when there is darkness and the ghosts come out,” ” There are no ghosts,” said Maria sharply.

“Oh yes, Maria,” teased Margot.

“There is the one of the housemaid who hanged herself because the pantry man deserted her. Only she does not appear to you. How do you say? She knows her place.”

Maria, flushing, muttered: “Margot talks such nonsense.”

“Do let us play hide and seek,” pleaded Margot.

“It’s hardly fair to Minella,” protested Sybil.

“She doesn’t know the house.”

“Oh, but it’s only up here that we play. It would be frowned on if we went below and ran into guests. I shall go and hide now.”

Margot’s eyes were dancing with anticipation of pleasure, and this astonished me. But the thought of exploring the house even though I was confined to the top floor was so exciting to me that I forgot my surprise in Margot’s unexpected childishness. After all, Margot was always unpredictable and I supposed she was not really so very old.

Maria was grumbling.

“It’s such a silly game. I wonder why she wants to play it. Guessing games would be so much more suitable. I wonder where she goes. We never find her. And she always has to be the one to hide.”

“Perhaps we’ll find her this time, with Minella’s help,” said Sybil.

We left the schoolroom and went on to a landing. Maria opened a door;

Sybil opened another. I went into the one with Sybil. It was furnished as a bedroom and I realized that this was where Maria and Sybil slept.

There were two beds with half canopies in separate corners of the room, as far away from each other as possible.

I stepped back on to the landing. Maria was not there and an irresistible urge to explore by myself came to me. I stepped back into the solarium. It seemed different now that I was there alone. That was how it was with great houses;

they changed when people were there. It was as though there was something living in them.

How I longed to wander about the house, exploring it! How I wanted to know all that was happening in it now and what had happened in the past.

Margot might have understood. The Derringham girls never would. They would have thought it was the schoolmistress’s daughter being overwhelmed by her surroundings.

I was not interested in Margot’s childish games. It was obvious that she was not in the solarium. There was now her that I could see for her to hide.

I heard Maria’s voice on the landing and I stepped briski across the room. I had discovered another door in the solarium and I opened it and went through. A spiral staircase faced me On impulse I descended it. It wound round and round an seemed to go on for a long way before it came to an end. was in another part of the house. Here the corridor was wide There were heavy velvet curtains at the windows. I looked through one of them. I could see the lawn with the sun-dia and I knew that I was in the front of the house.

There were several doors along the corridor. Very cautiously I opened one. The blinds were drawn to shut out the sun an it took a few seconds for my eyes to become accustomed to th dimness. Then I saw the sleeping figure on the chaise-longue. I was the Comtesse, Margot’s mother. I quickly but very quietly shut the door. Suppose she had been awake and seen me! should have been in disgrace. My mother would have been hurt and bewildered and I should never have been invited ti Derringham Manor again. Perhaps I never should in any case as this was the first time I had been asked.

It was the on time most likely. Then I must make the most of it.

My mother often said that when I wanted to do something which was of questionable behaviour, I would make excuse why it was right to do it. What excuse could I make for wandering about the house . prying . for it was nothing more? Joel Derringham had been pleased that I liked the house. I was sure he would not mind. Nor would Sir John And it might be my only chance.

I went along the corridor. Then to my joy I discovered that one door was slightly ajar. I pushed it further and peeped into the room. It was very like that in which the Comtesse lay or her chaise-longue except that there was a four-poster bed ir it hung with rich curtains.

I noticed the beautiful tapestries which adorned the walls.

I could not resist it. I tiptoed in.

Then my heart leaped in terror, for I heard the door shut behind me. I had never felt so frightened in all my life, Someone had shut the door. My position was unbearable embarrassing. In such situations I was quick at finding excuses and could generally rely on being able to extricate myself from awkward places, but in that moment I was really frightened. We had talked of the supernatural and I felt as though I could be in the presence of it.

Then a voice behind me said in accented English: “Good afternoon. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I turned sharply. The Devil Count was standing against the door, his arms folded; his eyes-very dark, almost black-were boring into me;

his mouth curved in a smile which matched the rest of him and which I could only call diabolical.

I stammered: “I’m sorry. I appear to have intruded.”

You seek someone? ” he asked.

“It is not my wife, I know, for you rejected her after you had looked into her room. Perhaps you search for me?”

I realized then that the two rooms were connected and he had been in that one into which I had peeped on the sleeping Comtesse. He had no doubt hastily come into this room and opened the door to lure me in in order to trap me when I had entered.

“No, no,” I said.

“It is a game. Margot is hiding.”

He nodded.

“Perhaps you should sit down.”

“No, thanks. I should not have come down here. I should have stayed upstairs.”

I walked boldly to the door but he did not move away from it and I stopped short looking at him helplessly and yet fascinated, wondering what he was going to do. What he did do was step forward and take my arm.

“You must not go away so soon,” he said.

“Now that you have visited me, you must stay awhile.”

He was studying me closely and his scrutiny embarrassed me.

“I think I should go,” I said as easily as I could.

“They will be missing me.”

“But it is Margot who is hiding. They will not find her yet. It is a big house for her to hide herself in.”

“Oh, but they will. It is only the top floor …” I stopped foolishly. I had betrayed myself.

He laughed triumphantly.

“Then what are you doing down here.

Mademoiselle? “

“It is my first visit to the house. I lost my way.”

“And you were looking in these rooms to find it?”

I was silent. He drew me to the window and pulled me down beside him.

I was close to him, deeply aware of the linen that smelt faintly of sandalwood and the large signet ring with the crest which he wore on the little finger of his right hand.

“You should tell me your name,” he said.

“I am Minella Maddox.”

“Minella Maddox,” he repeated. I know well. You are the schoolmistress’s daughter. “

“I am. But I hope you will tell no one that I came down here.”

He nodded gravely.

“So you have disobeyed orders …”

“I was lost,” I said firmly.

“I would not like it to be known that I was so foolish.”

“So you are asking a favour of me?”

I merely suggest that you do not mention this trivial matter. ” ” It is not trivial to me. Mademoiselle. “

“I do not understand you. Monsieur Ie Comte.”

“So you know me?”

“Everyone in the neighbourhood knows you.”

“I wonder how much you know of me.”

“Only who you are and that you are Margot’s father and that you come from France to visit Derringham from time to time.”

My daughter has talked of me, has she? “

“Now and then.”

“She has told you of my many … what is the word?”

“Sins, do you mean? If you would prefer to speak in French …”

“I see you have formed an opinion of me. I am a sinner ,i who does not speak your language as well as you speak mine.” He was talking in rapid French, hoping, I knew, that I should not understand, but I had had a good grounding and my fear was deserting me; moreover, although I knew that I was in a difficult situation and he was the sort of man who would not be chivalrous enough to help me out of it, I could not suppress a certain exhilaration. I replied in French that I had thought the word he was searching for was the one I had supplied and if he was thinking of something else would he give it to me in French and I was sure I should understand.

“I see,” he said, still speaking very quickly, ‘that you are a spirited young lady. Now let us understand each other. You seek my daughter Marguerite, whom you call Margot. She is hiding on the upper floor of the house. You know this yet you seek her down here. Ah, Mademoiselle, you did not seek Marguerite but to satisfy your curiosity. Come, admit it. ” He frowned in a manner which was, I was sure, calculated to strike terror in those who observed it.

“I do not like people to tell me untruths.”

“Well,” I said, determined not to be browbeaten, ‘it is my first visit to a house of this type and I do admit to a certain curiosity. “

“Natural, very natural. You have very pretty hair. Mademoiselle. I would say it is the colour of the corn in August. Would you agree?”

“You are pleased to flatter me.”

He put up a hand and caught a strand of my hair which my mother had curled carefully and which was tied back with a blue riband to match my dress.

I felt uneasy, yet the exhilaration persisted. I was forced to move closer to him as he pulled at my hair. I could see his face very clearly, the shadow under the luminous dark eyes, the brows thick, yet finely marked. He was the most striking-looking man I had ever seen.

“And now,” I said, “I should go.”

“You came at your pleasure,” he reminded me, ‘and I think it only courteous that you should leave at mine. “

“As we are concerned with courtesy you will not detain me against my will.”

“But we are discussing the courtesy you owe me. I owe you none, remember. You are the intruder. Oh, Mademoiselle, to peep into my bedchamber! To pry so! Shame on you!”

His eyes were sparkling. I remembered Margot’s talk of his unpredictability. At the moment he was amused, hi a short time he might not be.

I jerked my hair out of his hand and stood up.

“I apologize for my curiosity,” I said.

“It was most ill-mannered of me. You must do what you think fit about the matter. If you wish to tell Sir John …” I thank you for your permission,” he said. He was beside me, and to my horror he put his arms about me and held me against him.

Then his finger was under my chin lifting my face.

“When we transgress,” he went on, ‘we must pay for our sins. This is the payment I ask. ” He took my face in his hands and kissed me on the lips not once but many times.

I was horrified. I had never been kissed in such a way before. I wrenched myself free and ran.

The thought uppermost in my mind was that he had treated me as a serving girl. I was horrified. Moreover, it was my own fault.

I stumbled out of the room. I found the spiral staircase and as I started up it I heard a movement behind me. For a moment I thought it was the Comte in pursuit and I felt numb with terror.

Margot said: “What are you doing down here, Minelle?”

I turned. She was flushed and her eyes were dancing.

“Where have you been?” I demanded.

“Where have you" She put her fingers to her lips.

“Come on. Upstairs.”

We went up the staircase. At the top, she turned to me and laughed. We went into the solarium together.

Maria and Sybil were already there.

“Minelle found me,” said Margot.

“Where?” demanded Sybil.

“Do you think I’m telling?” retorted Margot.

“I might decide to hide there again.”

That was the beginning. He had become aware of me and I was, certainly not going to forget him in a hurry. During the rest of the afternoon I could not get him out of my mind. As we sat in the solarium and played a guessing game I was expecting him all the time to come to denounce me. More likely, I thought, he had told Sir John. I was most uncomfortable thinking of the way he had kissed me. What interpretation had he put on that?

I knew that it was my mother’s constant concern that I should remain virtuous and make a good marriage. She wanted the best possible for me. A doctor would be suitable, she had once said, but the only doctor we knew had remained un married for fifty-five years and was hardly likely to take a wife now; and even if he had decided to and offered to bestow the honour on me, I should have declined.

“We are midway between two worlds,” said my mother, meaning that the villagers were far beneath us and the occupants of the Big House far above us. It was for this reason that she was so eager to leave me a flourishing school. Though I must say the thought of spending the rest of my life teaching the offspring of the nobility who were to visit Derringham Manor in the years to come held no great charm for me.

It was the Comte who had set my thoughts in this direction. I realized angrily that he would not have dared kiss a young lady of good family in this way. But would he? Of course he would. He would do whatever his inclination moved him to. Of course, he might have been very angry. He might have told Sir John that I had come peeping into his bedchamber. Instead of which he had treated me like a . like a what?

How could I know. All I did know was that if my mother was aware of it she would be horrified.

She was eagerly waiting for me when I returned.

“You look flushed,” she scolded tenderly, and a little reproachfully.

She would have preferred me to look cool as though taking tea at Derringham Manor was an everyday occurrence in my life.

“Did you enjoy it? What happened?”

I told her what we had had for tea and what the girls were wearing.

“Sybil presided,” I said, ‘and afterwards we played games. “

“What games?” she wanted to know.

“Oh, just a childish sort of hide and seek and then guessing towns and rivers.”

She nodded. Then she frowned. My dress was decidedly grubby.

“I should like to get you a new dress,” she said.

“Something pretty. Velvet perhaps.”

“But, Mama, when should I wear it?”

“Who knows? You might be asked again.”

I doubt it. Once in a lifetime is enough for such an honour. “

I must have sounded bitter for she looked sad and I was sorry. I went to her and put my arm about her.

“Don’t worry, Mama,” I said.

“We’re happy here, are we not? And the school does very well.” I remembered then what I had forgotten until that moment.

“Oh, Mama, when I was going in I met Joel Derringham.”

Her eyes lit up. She said: “You didn’t tell me.”

“I forgot.”

“Forgot … meeting Joel Derringham! He’ll be Sir Joel on day.

Everything will be his. How did you meet him? “

I told her, repeating word for word.

“He sounds charming, she said.

“He is-and so like Sir John. It’s amusing, really. You could say: That’s Sir John . thirty years ago. “

“He was certainly very pleasant to you.”

“He could not have been more so.”

I could see plans forming in her mind.

It was two days later when Sir John came to the schoolhouse and a Sunday so there was no school that day. My mother and I had just dined and we had sat over the table as we often did on Sundays until nearly three o’clock discussing the next week’s lessons.

Although my mother was normally the most prosaic o women, where her heart was involved she could dream a romantically as any young girl. I knew that she had made u] her mind that I was to have many invitations to the Manor am there I should meet someone perhaps he might not be o too exalted a rank but at least he. would be able to offer mi more than I could reasonably hope for if I spent my days ii a schoolhouse.

Previously she had decided that I must havi the best possible education to provide for my future as i schoolmistress. Now her thoughts had escaped to wild dreams of fantasy, and because she was a woman accustomed to succeed, they knew no bounds.

Through the window of our little dining-room she saw Si:

John tethering his horse to the iron bar which had been put there for that purpose. I felt myself turn cold. It immediately occurred to me that the malicious Count had decided ti complain against me. I had left him abruptly and shown bin quite clearly that I deplored his conduct. This might be hi revenge.

“Why, it’s Sir John,” said my mother.

“I wonder …”

I heard myself say “Perhaps a new pupil…”

He was ushered into our sitting-room and I was relieved to see that he was smiling as benignly as ever.

“Good day to you, Mrs. Maddox … and Minella. Lad:

Derringham has a request to make. We are short of a guest for the soiree and supper which is to take place this evening. The Comtesse Fontaine Delibes is confined to her room and without her we shall be thirteen. There is, as you know, a superstition that thirteen is unlucky and some of our guests might be uneasy. I was wondering if I could persuade you to allow your daughter to join us. “

It was so like one of the dreams my mother had been conjuring up during the last two days that she accepted it calmly as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But of course she will join you,” she said.

“But, Mama,” I protested, “I have no suitable dress.”

Sir John laughed.

“That had occurred to Lady Derringham when the matter was suggested. One of the girls can lend you something. That is a simple matter.” He turned to me.

“Come to the Manor this afternoon.

You can then choose the gown and the seamstress can do any necessary alterations. It is good of you, Mrs. Maddox, to lend us your daughter. “

He smiled at me.

“I shall see you later.”

When he had gone my mother seized me in her arms and hugged me.

“I willed it to happen,” she cried.

“Your father always used to say that when I made up my mind I’d get what I wanted because I believed in it so firmly I just created it.”

“I shan’t much care about parading in borrowed plumes.”

“Nonsense. No one will know.”

“Sybil and Maria will and Maria will take the first opportunity to remind me that I am there as a standin.”

“As long as she does not remind anyone else that does not matter.”

“Mama, why are you so excited’ ” It’s what I always hoped for. “

“Did you ill-wish the Comtesse?”

“Perhaps.”

“So that your daughter could go to the ball!”

“It’s not a ball!” she cried, aghast.

“You would have to have a proper ball gown for that.”

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“How right I was to educate you thoroughly. You will be as musically knowledgeable as any of them there. I think your hair should be piled high on your head. It shows off its colour that way.” I heard a cynical voice murmuring: “Like corn in August.”

“Your hair is your best feature, my dear. We must make the most of it.

I hope the dress will be blue because that brings out the colour of your eyes. That cornflower-blue is rather rare . as deep as yours, I mean. ” ” You are making a princess out of your budding schools mistress.

Mama. ” ” Why shouldn’t a budding schoolmistress be as beautiful and charming as any lady in the land? “

“Certainly she should be if she is your daughter.”

“You must curb your tongue tonight, Minella. You always did say the first thing that came into your head.” ;

“I shall have to be myself and if that does not suit .. They might not ask you again.” j “Why should they ask me again? Are you not attaching too much importance to this? I am asked because they need another guest. It is not the first time someone has been asked to be the fourteenth. If the fourteenth decided to come after all, I should politely be assured that my presence was no longer j necessary.” The fact was that my mind was as busy as my mother’s. Why had this summons (which was how I thought of it) followed so closely on my visit to the Manor? Who had’i prompted it? And was it not something of a coincidence that] it should be the Comte’s wife who was indisposed?

Could it possibly be that he had suggested that I should fill the gap? What an extraordinary idea! Why? Because he wanted to meet me again? He had not reported my ill manners, after all. I remembered what he had said of my hair as he tugged it cares singly and then . those kisses. It was insulting. Was] he saying: “Bring the girl to the Manor.” That was how men such as he was behaved in their own world. There was some thing called the droit de seigneur which meant that when a girl was going to be married, the lord of the manor, if he liked the look of her, took her to his bed for a night-j more than one night if she proved satisfactory and then she was passed on to her bridegroom. If the lord was generous there was a present of some sort. I could well imagine this’ Comte exerting such a right.

What was I thinking? I was no bride and Sir John would never permit such conduct on his estate. I was ashamed of myself for harbouring such thoughts. That interview with the Comte had had a deeper effect on me than I had imagined.

My mother kept talking about Joel Derringham. I had to repeat what he had said to me. She was thinking romantic thoughts again. Oh, it was too foolish. She was telling herself that the indisposition was a myth and that as Joel had wished to make my further acquaintance, he had prevailed on his parents to ask me for the evening. Oh Mama, I thought, dear Mama, foolish only where her daughter was concerned. If she could see me satisfactorily settled she would die happily.

But she did indulge in the most preposterous dreams.

Margot came to the schoolhouse to see me. She was excited.

“What fun!” she cried.

“So you are coming tonight. My dear Minelle, Marie has found a dress for you, but I won’t have it. You are to have one of mine … straight from a couturiere of Paris. Blue for your eyes. Marie’s dress was brown. So ugly. I say: No. No. No. Not for Minelle, for if you are not exactly beautiful-as I am-you have something distinguished. Yes, you have, and I shall insist that you wear my dress.”

“Oh Margot,” I said, you realty do want me to come! “

“But of course. It will be fun. Maman will spend the evening in her room. She was crying this afternoon. It was my father again. Oh, he is wicked, but I suppose she loves him. Women do love him. I wonder why?”

“Your mother is not really ill, is she?”

Margot lifted her shoulders.

“It is the vapours. That is what Le Diable calls it. There might have been a quarrel. Not that she would dare quarrel with him. He does the quarrelling. If she weeps he gets more angry than ever. He hates women who weep.”

“And does she weep often?”

“I don’t know. I expect so. After all, she is married to him.”

“Margot, what a dreadful thing to say of your father!”

“If you don’t want the truth …”

“I do. But I can’t see how you can really know. Does she always shut herself away? Is it the same in your own home?”

“I suppose so.”

“But you must know.”

I don’t see much of her, if that’s what you mean. NouNou guards her and I hear she is not to be disturbed. But why do we talk about the mi I’m so glad you are coming, Minelle. I think you’ll enjoy it. You liked visiting us for tea, didn’t you? “

“Yes, it was fun.”

“What were you doing on the staircase? You had been exploring.

Confess. ” ” What were you doing, Margot? “p>

She narrowed her eyes and laughed at me.

“Come, tell me,” I insisted.

“If I tell you, will you tell me what you were doing? Ah, but that is not fair exchange. You were just looking at the house.”

“Margot, what are you talking about?”

“Never mind.”

I was glad to drop the subject, but I kept wondering about the Comte and Comtesse. She was afraid of him. That I could understand. She shut herself away and took refuge in her illness. I was sure it was to escape from him. It was very mysterious.

Margot took me to her room in the Manor. It was beautifully furnished and reminded me of the Comte’s bedroom. The bed was a four-poster, though slightly less ornate. The curtains were rich blue velvet and one wall was covered in a fine tapestry of the same tone as the curtains which was the predominant colour throughout the room.

The dress I was to wear was laid out on the bed.

“I am a little plumper,” said Margot, ‘which is good because that makes it easy. You are a little taller, but see, there is a deep hem.

I made the seamstress undo that at once. Now you will try it on and she shall come and make the alterations. I will send for her at once.

“Margot,” I said, ‘you are a good friend to me. “

“Ah yes,” she agreed.

“You interest me. Sybil… Marie … Pouff!”

She blew with her lips.

“They are dull. I know what they will say before they say it. You are different. Besides, you are only the schoolmistress’s daughter.”

“What has that to do with it?”

She laughed again and would say no more. I put on the dress. It was certainly becoming. She rang the bell and the seamstress arrived with pins and needles. In less than an hour I had my dress.

Maria and Sybil came to inspect me. Maria sniffed slightly.

“Well?” demanded Margot.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s not really suitable,” commented Maria.

“Why not?” cried Margot.

“The brown would have been better.”

“Better for you? Are you afraid that she will look: more beautiful than you? Ah, that is it.”

“What nonsense!” retorted Maria.

Margot grinned at me. It is so,” she said.

And Maria said no more about the unsuitability of the gown.

Margot insisted on dressing my hair. She chatted as she did so. There, ma cherie. Is that not beautiful? Oh, yes, it is true, you have an air. You should not be condemned to spending your life teaching stupid children. ” She studied my reflection.

“Corn-coloured hair,” she commented.

“Cornflower-blue eyes and lips like the poppy.”

I laughed at her.

“You make me sound like a field of wheat.”

“Teeth even and white,” she went on.

“Nose a little … how do you say it? … aggressive? Lips firm … can smile, can be severe. I know what it is, Minelle my friend, that adds up to attractiveness. It is the contrast. The eyes are soft and yielding. Ah, but wait … look at that nose. Look at that mouth. Oh yes, they say, I am good-looking … I am passionate … but wait a bit. No nonsense, please.”

“Yes, please,” I retorted, ‘no more of this nonsense. And when I want an analysis of my looks and character I’ll ask for it. “

“You never would, because that’s another thing about you, Minelle, you think you know that little bit more than anyone else and can answer all the questions so much more correctly. Oh, I know you used to beat me in class … as you did us all … and that is right and fitting for the daughter of the schoolmistress, and now you teach us and tell us when we are right and wrong. But let me tell you this, my clever Minelle, you have much to learn.”

I looked at her dark laughing face with the fine almost black sparkling eyes, so like her father’s, the heavy brows, the thick dark hair. She was very attractive and there was some thing secretive about her. I thought of her joining me on thel spiral staircase. Where had she been? ? “Something you have already learned?” I asked. “Some of us are born with this kind of knowledge,” she said, I “And you are one of those so endowed?” I I am. ” The music was playing in the gallery where a small orchestra had been installed. Lady Derringham, gracious in pale mauve silk, pressed my ? hand when she saw me and murmured: ” It was good of you to’s help us out, Minella. ” A remark which, although spoken kindly, reminded me immediately of the reason why I was” here.

As soon as the Comte appeared I suspected he was responsible for my being here. He looked about the music room until his eyes alighted on me. He bowed from across the room, and I could see he was taking in every detail of my appearance in a way which I reminded myself was insulting. I returned his gaze haughtily, which seemed to amuse him.

Lady Derringham had arranged that I should sit with her daughters and Margot as though to remind the company that although we were present we had not yet been formally launched into society. We were not quite children and could be allowed to attend the soiree and supper afterwards, but we should be dismissed as soon as that was over.

I found it a tremendously exciting occasion. I loved music, in particular the works of the composer Mozart which figured largely in the concert. As I listened I felt transported and I thought how I should enjoy living graciously as many of my pupils did. It seemed unfair of fate to have set me outside it and yet not far enough away not to be able to glimpse it and realize what I was missing.

During the interval in the concert people moved about the gallery greeting old friends. Joel came over to me.

“I’m glad you came. Miss Maddox,” he said.

“Do you really think it would have been noticed if I had not? Would people really count and imagine doom was overtaking them because of unlucky thirteen?”

“We can’t know as the situation was avoided … most agreeably, if I may say so. I hope it will be the first of many occasions when you will visit us.”

“You can’t expect a fourteenth guest to default at the last minute merely to accommodate me.”

“I think you attach too much importance to this reason.”

I have to because but for it I shouldn’t be here. “

“Let’s forget that and be glad you are. What did you think of the concert?”

“Superb.”

“You are fond of music?”

“Extremely.”

“We often have concerts like this. You must come again.”

“You are very kind.”

This one is for the Comte. He is particularly partial to Mozart. “

“Did I hear my name?” asked the Comte.

He took the chair beside me and I was aware of his studying me intently.

“I was telling Miss Maddox, Comte, that you enjoy Mozart and that the concert was being given in your honour. May I present Miss Maddox.”

The Comte stood up and bowed.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Mademoiselle. ” He turned to Joel.

“Mademoiselle Maddox and I have met before.”

I felt the blood rushing to my face. He was going to expose me. He was going to tell Joel how I had peeped into his bedchamber when I was supposed to be upstairs and imply how unwise it was to bring people of my station into a higher sphere. What a moment to choose! And typical of him, I was sure.

He was regarding me sardonically, reading my thoughts.

“Is that so?” said Joel, surprised.

“By the schoolhouse,” said the Comte.

“I was passing and I saw Mademoiselle Maddox. I thought: That is the excellent Mademoiselle who has done so much good to my daughter. I am glad to have an opportunity of expressing my gratitude.”

He was smiling at me, noting, of course, my flush and he would know that I was thinking of those kisses and my undignified exit.

“My father is constantly singing the praises of Mrs. Maddox’s school,” said kind Joel.

“It has saved our employing governesses

“Governesses can be tiresome,” said the Comte, sitting down beside me.

“They are not of us and yet they do not belong with ;

the servants. It is irksome to have people floating in limbo. Not for us. For them. They become so conscious of their status. Class is something to be ignored. Do you agree, Joel? Miss Maddox? When our late King Louis XV was reminded by one of his friends, a duke, that his mistress was the daughter of a cook, he replied: “Is that so? I did not notice. The fact is that you are all so far beneath me that I cannot tell the difference between a duke and a cook.” Joel laughed and I could not stop myself retorting: “Is that so with you. Monsieur Ie Comte? Could you not tell the difference between a cook and a duke? “

“I am not so high as the King, Mademoiselle, but I am high nevertheless and I could not tell the difference between the daughters of Sir John and those of the schoolmistress.”

“Then it seems that I am not entirely unacceptable.”

His eyes seemed to burn into mine.

“Mademoiselle, you are very acceptable, I do assure you.” Joel looked uncomfortable. He found this conversation in bad taste, I was sure, but I could see that the Comte, like myself, could not resist the temptation to indulge in it.

“I think,” said Joel, ‘that the interval is almost over and that we should return to our seats. “

The girls were coming back. Margot looked amused; Maria a little sour and Sybil noncommittal.

“You are attracting attention, Minelle,” whispered Margot.

“Two of the most handsome men in attendance at the same time. You are a siren.”

“I did not ask them.”

“Sirens never do. They just send out their subtle fascination.”

During the rest of the concert I thought of the Comte. I attracted him in some way. I knew which way. He liked women, and although I was immature, I was fast becoming one. That his intentions were strictly dishonourable could be nothing but obvious. But what was so horrifying was that instead of being angry I was fascinated.

As we were about to descend into the dining hall where cold supper had been laid out, one of the footmen-splendid in the Derringham livery-came into the dining-room, sought the eye of Sir John and discreetly went to him. I saw him whisper a few words.

Sir John nodded and went to the Comte who, I noticed, not without a little chagrin, was talking animatedly to Lady Eggleston, the flighty young wife of a gouty, more-than middle-aged husband. She was simpering a little and I could imagine the course of their conversation.

Sir John spoke to the Comte and after a while they went out of the room together.

Joel was at my side.

“Come to the buffet,” he said. There you can choose what you would like. After that we’ll find a small table. “

I was grateful to him. There was such kindliness in him. He believed that I, who knew no one here, might need a protector.

There was fish of all description and a variety of cold meats. I took little. I was not in the least hungry.

We found a table somewhat sheltered by plants, and Joel said to me: T dare say you found the Comte a little unusual. “

“Well… he is not English.”

“I thought you seemed a little put out by him.”

“I think he is a man who is accustomed to getting his own way.”

“Undoubtedly. You saw him leave with my father. One of his servants has arrived from France with a message for him. It seems as though it may be important.”

It must be for the servant to travel so far. “

“But not entirely unexpected. You will know that affairs in France have been uneasy for some time. I do hope this is nothing disastrous.”

“The situation in that country is certainly grim,” I said.

“One wonders where it will end.”

I visited the Comte two years ago with my father and even then there was a sense of uneasiness throughout the country. They did not seem to be as much aware of it as I was. Living close to something perhaps makes it less obvious.

“I have heard of the extravagance of the Queen.”

She is very unpopular. The French do not like foreigners, and of course she is one. “

“But a charming and beautiful woman, I believe.”

“Oh yes. We were presented by the Comte. She danced exquisitely, I remember, and was most beautifully gowned. I think the Comte is a little more uneasy than he admits.”

“He does not appear to be in the least so … But perhaps ;

I speak rashly. I scarcely know him. “

“He is not a man to betray his feelings. If there should be trouble he would have a great deal to lose. Among other property he owns the Chateau Silvaine about forty miles due south of Paris, and the Hotel Delibes, a mansion in the capital. His is a very ancient family, connected with the Capets. He is very much a man, of the Court.”

“I see. A most important gentleman.”

“Indeed yes. It is obvious from his demeanour, don’t you think?”

“He seems determined that everyone shall be aware of it. I am sure he would be very put out if they were not.”

“You must not judge him too harshly. Miss Maddox. He is a French aristocrat, and aristocracy is a state of being which is emphasized more definitely in France than here.”

“Certainly I must not presume to judge. After all, as I said, I know nothing of him.”

“I am sure he is uneasy. Only last night when he was talking to my father he mentioned the riots which had taken place a few years ago when the markets were raided and boats on the Oise which were bringing grain to Paris were boarded and the sacks of grain seized and thrown into the river. He said something which impressed my father deeply. He said it was a ” rehearsal for a revolution”. But I am boring you with this dreary conversation.”

“Indeed not. My mother has always insisted that we keep up to date with modem history as well as that of the past. We have the French papers which we read in class. In fact we keep them and read them again and again. So I have heard of that alarming period. The trouble was averted, however.”

“Yes, but I can’t forget the Comte’s words.

“A rehearsal.” And whenever something like this happens . servants coming with a special message . I feel uneasy. “

“Ah, there is Minella!” It was Maria and Sybil with a young man. They carried plates.

“We shall join you,” said Maria.

Joel presented the young man to me.

“This is Tom Fielding. Miss Maddox, Tom.”

Tom Fielding bowed and asked if I had enjoyed the music. I told him that I had immensely.

“The salmon is good,” he said.

“Have you tried it?”

“Joel,” put in Maria, ‘if you wish to look after our guests, I know Minella will excuse you. “

I am sure she would if I had that wish,” replied Joel, smiling at me.

But it happens that I have not. “

“Perhaps you think you ought to …”

Tonight I am bent on pleasure. “

I warmed towards him. I knew that Maria was reminding him that he need not treat the schoolmistress’s daughter as an ordinary guest, which was typical of her. Whether he was aware of her meaning or not, I did not know, but I liked him for his response to it.

The conversation centred on trivialities, and I could see that Joel, who was clearly a serious-minded young man, would have preferred to go on with our discussion.

Sybil said: “Mama says that when you leave, Minella, she will send someone to escort you to the schoolhouse. You must not go back alone.”

“That is kind of her,” I said.

“I will take Miss Maddox back to the house,” said Joel quickly.

“I think you will be needed here, Joel,” Maria pointed out.

“You overrate my importance, sister. Everything will run just as smoothly whether I am here or not.”

“I think Mama expects …”

Joel said: “Tom, do try the marchpane. Our cook is proud of it.”

Since Maria had put the idea into my head, I now began to wonder whether it was time for me to leave. It was half past ten and I must certainly not be the last to go.

I turned to Joel.

“It is good of you to offer to take me. Thank you.”

“It is I who should thank you for allowing me to do so,” he replied gallantly.

“Perhaps I should find Lady Derringham and thank her now.”

“I’ll take you to her,” said Joel.

Lady Derringham received my thanks graciously, and Sir, John said he thought it was extremely good of me to come at such short notice. :

I could not see the Comte anywhere and I wondered whether he had not returned after leaving with Sir John. I did see Margot, though. She was clearly enjoying herself in the company of a young man who seemed to be enchanted with her and she with him. I Joel and I walked the half a mile or so from the Manor to the schoolhouse.

There was a half moon in the sky which shed a pale and eerie light on the bushes. I felt as though I were in a dreams Here I was out late at night with Joel Derringham who showed me clearly that he enjoyed my company. It must have been obvious, otherwise Maria would not have been so put out. I wondered what my mother would say for she would be sitting up waiting for me. She would be expecting one of the servants from the Manor to escort me and when she realized it was the son and heir I could imagine her excitement.

It meant nothing . simply nothing. It was like the Comte’s kisses.

I must remember that, and make her realize it too.

Joel said what a pleasant evening it had been. His parents gave these musical soirees fairly frequently, but this was one he would always remember.

“I shall certainly remember it,” I replied lightly.

“For me it is the first and only one.”

The first perhaps he suggested.

“You do enjoy music, I know. What a sky! It’s rarely so clear. The moon dims the stars somewhat, though.

Look at the Pleiades over there to the north-east. Did you know that when they appear it’s a sign of the end of summer? They are not welcome for that reason. I have always been interested in the stars.

Stand still a moment. Look up. Here are we two little people looking into eternity. It’s rather overwhelming. Do you find it so? “

As I stood there, looking up with him, I felt quite emotional. It had been such a strange evening quite different from anything I had known before and something told me that big events were closing in on me, that I had reached the end of a road, the passing of a phase, and that Joel Derringham and perhaps even the Comte Fontaine Delibes were not merely passing acquaintances but that my future was caught up with theirs in some strange way and it was a beginning.

Joel went on: “They are supposed to be the seven daughters who were pursued by the hunter Orion. When they appealed to the gods to save them from Orion’s lustful embraces, they were changed into doves and placed in the sky.”

“A fate presumably preferable to that which is said to be worse than death,” I commented.

Joel laughed.

“It has been good to meet you,” he said.

“You are so different from other girls I normally meet.” He continued to look up at the sky.

“All the Pleiades married gods, except one, Merope, who married a mortal. For that reason her light was dimmed.”

“So social distinction exists in the heavens!”

That is just the legend. “

“It spoils it in my opinion. I should have liked Merope to shine more brightly because she was more adventurous and independent than her sisters. But of course no one would agree with me.”

“I do,” he assured me.

I felt exhilarated, excited, and the feeling that I was on the threshold of adventure increased.

“You must not be late in returning,” I warned him, ‘or they will wonder what has become of you. “

We were silent as we made our way to the schoolhouse.

As I had guessed my mother was waiting up for me. Her eyes widened with delight when she saw my companion.

He declined to come in but handed me to her as though I were some valuable object to be safely deposited. Then he said good night and was gone.

I had to sit up for a long time telling my mother every detail. I did, but I omitted to mention the Comte.

II

The excitement in the schoolhouse continued. My mother went about with a faraway look in her eyes and there was a smile and contentment on her lips. I knew very well what was in her mind and I was mildly appalled at her temerity.

The fact was that Joel Derringham was determined to be friendly. I was eighteen years of age and in spite of a lack of worldly experience appeared to be quite mature. This was probably due to my having a more serious nature than the! Derringham girls-and certainly than Margot. I had had it brought home to me that I must acquire the best education! available to me with the purpose of earning my living through it; this had been so impressed on me by my mother since the death of my father that I had accepted it as my way of life. I ) had read extensively anything that came to hand; I had felt it i my duty to know something of any subject which might be mentioned; and it was no doubt due to this that Joel found me different. Ever since our meeting, he had sought my company When I went for my favourite walk across the meadows I would find him seated on a stile over which I had to cross, and he would join me in my walk.

He was often riding past the schoolhouse and on several occasions he called in. My mother received him graciously and without fuss, and the only reason why I knew she was inwardly excited was by the faint colour in her cheeks. She was delighted. This most prosaic of women was vulnerable only where her daughter was concerned, and it became embarrassingly clear that she had decided that Joel Derringham should marry me. Instead of at the schoolhouse my future was to be at This was the wildest dream” for even if Joel thought it a possibility, his family would never permit it.

Yet in the space of a week we had become very good friends. I enjoyed our meetings, which were never arranged but seemed to come about naturally, though I suspected they were contrived by him. It was amazing how often I would go out and come upon him. I rode Jenny, our little horse which drew the jingle-our only means of transport. She was not young but docile and my mother had been anxious for me to ride well. Several times when I rode out on her I would come upon Joel on one of the fine hunters from the Derringham stables. He would ride beside me and it invariably happened that where I proposed to go was just where he was going also. He was so gracious and charming as well as informative and I found his company interesting. I was flattered, too, that he should seek me out.

Margot told me that her parents had left England because of the way things were going in France; she did not seem to be very perturbed and was delighted to be left alone in England. Vaguely I wondered about Margot, who was very merry and abandonedly gay one day and subdued and serious the next. Her changes of moods were quite unpredictable, but being absorbed in my own affairs, I put it down to her Gallic temperament and forgot her.

It was Joel who told me about the reason for the Comte’s sudden departure. I had ridden out on Jenny for I used to exercise her after school in the evenings, so the time when I would be at liberty to ride was almost certain to be early evening. Invariably I would see the tall figure coming towards me through the trees and it happened so often that I came to expect it.

Joel looked grave when he discussed the Comte’s departure.

“There is a great scandal brewing at the Court of France,” he told me.

“Some members of the nobility seem to be involved in it and the Comte thought it would be wise for him to go back to be on the spot. It involves a diamond necklace which the Queen is said to have acquired with the assistance of a Cardinal and that in exchange for his services he hoped to become her lover … might, indeed, have been her lover. Of course it is denied by the Queen, and the Cardinal de Rohan and his accomplices have been arrested. It is going to be a cause celebre.”

“And does this concern the Comte Fontaine Delibes?”

“There is a strong feeling that it might concern the whole of France.

The royal family cannot afford a scandal at this time. Perhaps I am wrong . I hope so. My father thinks I exaggerate, but as I told you I sensed a seething unrest in the country when I was there. There is a great deal of extravagance. The rich are so rich and the poor so poor.

“Is that not the case everywhere?”

“Yes, I suppose so, but there seems to be a growing resentment throughout France. I believe the Comte is very much aware of it. It was for this reason that he decided to return without delay. He made arrangements to leave on the night of the soiree.”

I thought about; his leaving in haste and supposed he had not given me another thought. And that, I told myself, is the last I shall see of the distinguished gentleman, and that is not such a bad thing. Something told me that his acquaintance would bring me no good.

I must dismiss him from my mind. That should not be difficult, for at this time I was enjoying a very pleasant friendship with the most eligible young man in the neighbourhood.

We did not speak much of the Comte after that. Joel was interested in the country’s affairs and was hoping one day to become a Member of Parliament. His family were not eager for , this.

“They think that I, being the only son, should give my attention to the estate.”

“And you have other ideas.”

“Oh, I am interested in the estate, but it is not enough to occupy a man’s lifetime. One can delegate to managers. Why should a man not go out and take an interest in the governing of the country?”

“I dare say Mr. Pitt makes a full-time job of his parliamentary career.”

“Ah, but he is Prime Minister.”

“Surely you should aim for the highest office.”

“Perhaps I should.”

“And delegate more and more of estate matters to your managers?”

“That could be. Oh, I like the country. I am interested in managing affairs here, but these are uneasy times. Miss Maddox. They are fraught with danger. If there was trouble on the other side of the Channel…”

“What trouble?” I asked quickly.

“You remember the ” ‘rehearsal I mentioned. What if that really should have been a rehearsal with a full-scale performance to come? “

“You mean a kind of civil war?”

“I mean that the needy might rise against the affluent … the starving against the extravagant spendthrifts. I think that could be a possibility.”

I shivered, picturing the Comte, proud in his chateau and the mob marching . the bloodthirsty mob . My mother said that I allowed my imagination to run away with me.

“Imagination is like fire,” she used to say.

“A good friend but a bad enemy. You must learn to direct it in the way it can serve you best.”

I asked myself why I should be concerned about what happened to that man. I was sure that if an evil fate overtook him he would deserve it, but I imagined no ill fate would ever overtake him. He would always be the winner.

Joel went on: “My father always reproves me if I talk of these things.

He believes there is a good deal of speculation which means nothing. I expect he is right. But in any case the Comte did think he should return. “

“Is it significant that he has left his daughter here?”

“Not in the least. He approves of the tuition she is getting in English. He says that since she studied at your school she speaks far better English than he does. He wants her to perfect it. You can rely on her being with you for another year.”

“My mother will be pleased.”

“And you?” he asked.

“I have a fondness for Margot. She is very amusing.”

“She is very … young …”

“She is growing up fast.” ‘. and lighthearted,” he added Joel was scarcely that, I reflected. He took life somewhat seriously.

He loved to talk politics to me as I was aware of what was happening in the country. My mother and I always read any newspaper which came into our hands. Joel warmly admired Mr. Pitt, that youngest of our Prime Ministers, and he talked of him glowingly, how clever he was, how the country had never been better served, and he believed his introduction of the Sinking Fund would gradually reduce the National Debt.

When there was an attempt on the King’s life, Joel actually called at the schoolhouse to tell us about it. My mother was delighted to see him and brought out a bottle of her homemade wine-kept for special occasions and some of the little wine cakes she took such a pride in.

She was almost purring as we sat down at our parlour table and Joel told us about the demented old woman who had waited for the King as he alighted from his post chariot at the garden gate of St. James’s on a pretext of handing a petition to him, and had tried to stab him in the chest with a knife she had concealed.

Thank God,” said Joel, ‘that His Majesty’s guards caught her arm in time. The King behaved in a manner one expects of him. His concern was for the poor woman.

“I am not hurt,” he cried.

“See to her.” He said afterwards that she was mad and that she was therefore not responsible for her actions. “

“I have heard it said,” my mother commented, ‘that His Majesty would naturally have pity on one so afflicted. “

“Oh, you have been hearing rumours about the state of his own health, I’ll swear,” said Joel.

“You would know,” replied my mother, ‘whether there is any truth in them. “

“I know of the rumours but the truth of them is another matter.”

Do you think the woman was acting by herself or was she the member of some gang intending to harm the King? ” I asked.

“It is almost certain to be the former.”

Joel sipped his wine, and complimenting my mother on it and her wine cakes, began to tell us anecdotes about the Court which enthralled us who were so far removed from it.

It was a pleasant visit and when he had gone my mother glowed with pride and I heard her singing “Heart of Oak’ in her endearing out-of-tune voice, and as she always did this when she was particularly pleased with life, I knew what was in her mind.

My birthday was in September. I was nineteen and when I went out to our little lean-to which served as a stable in order to saddle Jenny, I saw a lovely chestnut mare waiting there for me.

I stared in astonishment. Then I heard a movement behind me and, turning, saw my mother. I had never seen her look quite so happy since my father’s death.

“Well,” she said, ‘now when you go riding with Joel Derringham, you’ll look just right. “

I threw myself into her arms and we hugged each other. There were tears in her eyes when she released me.

“How could you possibly afford it?” I asked.

“Ah!” She nodded sagely.

“That’s not the thing to say when you get a present.”

Then the truth dawned on me.

“The dower!” I cried, appalled. My mother had saved, as she said, ‘for a rainy day,” and the money was kept in the old Tudor dower chest which had been in the family for years. We always referred to the savings as the dower.

“Well, I thought, a horse in the stable was better than a few guineas tied up in a bag. You haven’t finished yet. Come upstairs.”

Proudly she took me to her bedroom and there, laid out on the bed, was a complete riding outfit dark blue skirt and jacket and a tall hat of the same shade.

I couldn’t wait to try on everything and of course it fitted perfectly.

“It’s becoming,” she murmured.

“Your mother would have been so proud.

Now you look as though you really do belong . “

“Belong! To whom?”

“You look every bit as grand as the guests up at the Manor.”

I felt a twinge of apprehension. I understood absolutely how her thoughts were moving. My friendship with Joel Derringham had robbed her of some of her good sense. She had really made up her mind that he was going to marry me, and it was for this reason that she was ready to take money from the dower chest which had been almost sacred to her for as long as I could remember. I could imagine her convincing herself that the horse and the outfit were no extravagance. They were proclaiming to the world how suited her daughter was to step up into the world of the nobility.

I said nothing, but the joy in my new horse and clothes was considerably subdued.

When I rode out she was watching me from the top window and I felt a great surge of tenderness for her and with it was the almost certainty that she was going to be disappointed.

For a few weeks life went on as before. October came. The school was less full than that time last year. My mother was always anxious when pupils disappeared. Sybil and Maria were still coming, of course, with Margot, but it was a foregone conclusion that Margot would one day return to her parents, and Sybil and Maria would probably go with her for they would attend a finishing school near Paris.

I could not help enjoying my new mare. Poor Jenny was relieved to be rid of me and the mare, whom I had called Dower, demanded a great deal of exercise, so I rode often. And Joel was always there to meet me. We had long rides on Saturdays and Sundays when there was no school.

We talked of politics, the stars, the countryside and any subject, all of which he seemed to know a good deal about. There was a quiet enthusiasm about him which I found enclearing, but the fact was that while I liked him very much I found no great exhilaration in his company. I should never have noticed this if it had not been for my encounter with the Comte. Even after all this time the memory of his kisses made me shudder. I had started to dream about him and these dreams could be rather frightening, though when I awoke from them it was always with regret and I wished myself back in them. I would be in embarrassing situations and always the Comte was there, watching me enigmatically so that I could never be sure what he was going to do.

It was all very foolish and ridiculous that a serious-minded young woman of my age should be so naive. I made excuses for myself. Mine had been a sheltered life. I had never been , out in the world.

Sometimes I felt my mother shared my naivete. It must have been so if she thought Joel Derringham was going to marry me.

I was so absorbed in my own affairs that I only vaguely noticed the change in Margot. She was less exuberant. She . was even on some occasions subdued. That she was a creature of moods I had always known, but it had never been so apparent as it was now. There were times when she would be almost hysterically gay and others when she was nearly morbid.

She was inattentive at lessons and I waited until we were alone to reprove her.

“English verbs!” she cried, throwing up her hands. I find them so boring. Who cares whether I speak English as you do or as I do . as long as I am understood.

” I care,” I reminded her.

“My mother cares and your family care. “

“They don’t. They won’t know the difference in any case.”

“Your father has allowed you to stay here because he is pleased with your progress.” ;

“He has allowed me to stay because they want me out of the way.”

“I do not believe such nonsense.”

“Minelle, you are … what is it called … a hypocrite? You pretend to be so good. You learned all your verbs, I don’t doubt … and twice as quickly as anyone else. And now you go riding on your new horse .. in your elegant clothes … and who is waiting in the woods?

Tell me that. “

I asked you here that we might talk seriously, Margot. “

“What is more serious than this, eh? Joel likes you, Minelle. He likes you very much. I am glad because … shall I tell you something?

They meant him for me. Oh, that startles you, yes? My father and Sir John have talked of it. I know because I listened . at keyholes. Oh, very naughty! My father would like me to be settled in England. He thinks France is not very safe for a time. So if I married Joel . who will give me riches . and title . that should be considered. Of course he is not of such an ancient family as ours . but we are prepared to forget that. Now you come along with your new horse, your elegant riding clothes, and Joel does not seem to see me.

He sees only you. “

“I never heard anyone talk such nonsense as you do when you are in the mood.”

“It all began, did it not, when you came to tea. You met him on the lawn by the sun-dial. You looked quite handsome standing there. The sun makes your hair look beautiful, I thought. So did he. Are you in love with him, Minelle?”

“Margot, I do want you to pay more attention to your lessons.”

“And I want you to pay attention to me. But you are doing so. You have grown quite pink thinking of Joel Derringham. You can confide in me because you know …”

“There is nothing to confide. Now Margot, you must work harder at your English, otherwise there is no point in your being here. You might as well be in your father’s chateau.”

“I am not like you, Minelle. I do not pretend.”

“We are not discussing our respective characters but the need for work.”

“Oh, Minelle, you are the most maddening creature! I wonder Joel likes you. I do really.”

“Who said he does?”

“I do. Marie does, so does Sybil. And I reckon everyone says so. You can’t ride out as often as you do with a young man without people’s noticing. And they draw their conclusions.”

Then that is extremely impertinent of them. “

“They won’t let him marry you, Minelle.”

I felt cold with fear and it was not of Joel or myself that I was thinking, but of my mother.

“It’s funny, really …”

She began to laugh. It was one of those occasions when she alarmed me.

Her laughter grew uncontrollable and when I took her by the shoulders she started to cry. She leaned against me and clung to me, her slender body shaking with sobs.

“Margot, Margot,” I cried.

“What’s wrong?”

But I could get no sense out of her.

We had snow in November. It was one of the coldest in memory. Maria and Sybil could not come down from the Manor to the schoolhouse and we had very small classes. We were hard put to it to keep the house warm, and although we kept log fires burning in every room, the bitter east wind seemed to penetrate every crack. My mother caught what she called ‘one of her colds’. She suffered from them every winter so at first we took little notice of this one. But it persisted and I made her stay in bed while I kept the school going. So many pupils stayed away that it was not as difficult as it might have been.

She started to cough in the night and as she grew worse I thought I should call a doctor, but she wouldn’t hear of it. It would cost too much, she said.

“But it is necessary,” I said.

“There’s the dower.”

She shook her head. So I delayed for several days but when she grew feverish and delirious I asked the doctor to come. She had congestion of the lungs, he said.

This was a serious illness-by no means one of the winter colds. I shut the school and gave myself up to nursing her.

These were some of the most unhappy days I had yet known. To see her lying there, propped up with pillows, her skin hot and dry, her eyes glazed, watching me with those too-bright eyes, filled me with misery.

The terrible realization had come to me that her chances of recovery were not great.

“Dearest Mama,” I cried, ‘tell me what to do. I will do anything .anything . if only you will get better. “

“Is that you, Minella?” she whispered. I knelt by the bed and took her hand.

“I am here, my dearest. I have not left you since you have been ill. I shall always be with you …”

“Minella, I am going to your father. I dreamed of him last night. He was standing at the prow of his ship and holding out his hands to me.

I said to him, “I’m coming to you.” Then he smiled and beckoned. I said: “I have to leave our little girl behind,” and he answered: “She will be well taken care of. You know she will.” Then a great peace came to me and I knew all would come right. “

“Nothing can be right if you are not here.”

“Oh yes, my love. You have your life. He is a good man. I have dreamed of it often …” Her voice was scarcely audible.

“He’s kind … like his father … He’ll be good to you. And you’ll fit. Never doubt it. You’re as good as any of them. No, better … Remember that, my child …”

“Oh my darling, I only want you to get well. Nothing else matters.”

She shook her head.

“The time comes for us all, Minella. Mine is now.

But I can go . happy . because he’s there. “

“Listen,” I insisted.

“You’re going to get well. We’ll close the school for a month. We’ll go away together … just the two of us.

We’ll raid the dower chest. “

Her lips twitched. She shook her head.

“Well spent,” she murmured.

“It was money well spent.”

“Don’t talk, dearest. Save your breath.”

She nodded and smiled at me with such a wealth of love in her eyes that I could scarcely restrain my tears.

She closed her eyes and after a while began to murmur under her breath.

I leaned forward to listen.

“Worthwhile,” she whispered.

“My girl .. why not? … she’s as good as any of them … fitting that she should take her place among them. What I always wanted. Like an answer to a prayer … Thank you, God. I can go happy now …”

I sat by the bed, understanding full well her thoughts, which were as they had been since my father’s death all for me. She was dying. I knew that, and I could find no comfort in deceiving myself. But she was happy because she believed that Joel Derringham was in love with me and would ask me to marry him.

Oh beloved, foolish mother! How unworldly she was! Even I, who had lived my sheltered life, was more aware of how the world acted than she was. Or perhaps she was blinded by love. She saw her daughter as a swan among geese . demanding to be singled out for attention.

There was only one thing for which I could be thankful. She died happy believing that my future was secure. She was buried in Derringham churchyard on a bitter December day-two weeks before Christmas. Standing in the cold wind, listening to the clods of earth falling on her coffin, I was completely overcome by my desolation. To represent him. Sir John had sent his butler a very dignified man held in great esteem by all those who worked for the Derringhams. Mrs. Callan, the housekeeper, also came. There were one or two other mourners from the estate, but I was aware of little but my grief.

I saw Joel as we left the churchyard. He was standing by ‘, the gate, his hat in his hand. He did not speak. He just took my hand and held it for a moment. I withdrew it. I could not , bear to talk to anyone.

All I wanted was to be alone.

The schoolhouse was deathly quiet. I could still smell the oak coffin which had stood on trestles in our sitting-room until that morning.

The room seemed empty now. There was nothing but emptiness everywhere in the house, and in my heart no less, I went to my bedroom and lay on my bed and thought of her and how we had laughed and planned together; and how her great relief had been that when she was gone I should have the school-until later when she had made up her mind that Joel Derringham wanted to marry me and had been elated contemplating a brilliant and secure future. I The rest of the day I lay there alone with my grief.

I had slept at length for I was quite exhausted and the next day when I arose I felt a little rested. The future stared me blankly in the face for I could not imagine it without her. I supposed I should continue with the school as she had always intended that I should until. I shook off thoughts of Joel Derringham. I liked him, of course, but even if he asked me to marry him I was not sure that I wanted to. What had alarmed me about my friendship with Joel was the knowledge that my mother was going to be heartbroken when it would finally be brought home to her that I could not marry him.

The Derringhams would never allow it even if Joel and I wished it.

Margot had told me he had been intended for her and that would be a suitable match. At least my dearest mother would not have to suffer that disappointment.

What should I do? I had to go on with my life. I should therefore continue with the school. I had the contents of the dower chest which was in her bedroom. That chest had belonged to her great-great-grandmother and had come down through the eldest daughters of the family. Money was put into it from the day a girl was born so that there would be a good sum by the time she was marriageable. The key was kept on the chain which my mother had worn about her waist and that chatelaine had also been handed down through the women of the household with the chest.

I found the key and opened the chest.

There were but five guineas there.

I was amazed because I had believed I should find at least a hundred.

Then the truth which I should have realized before dawned on me. Of course, the horse! The riding outfit!

Later I also found lengths of material in her cupboard, and when Jilly Barton came with a velvet gown which she had made for me, I knew what had happened.

The dower had been spent to buy clothes for me that I might show myself to be a worthy partner for Joel Derringham.

I awoke on the first Christmas Day alone to a sense of great desolation. I lay in bed unwisely remembering other Christmases when my mother had come into my room carrying mysterious parcels, calling out: “Merry Christmas, my darling!” and how I would reach out for my gifts to her and the fun we had scattering wrappings over the bed and exclaiming with surprise (often assumed because we were always practical in our choice of gifts). But when we declared, as we often did,

“It’s exactly what I wanted!” it invariably was, as we knew each.

other’s needs to perfection. Now here I was alone. It had been too sudden. If she had been ill for some time I could have grown accustomed to the knowledge that I had to lose her and perhaps that would have softened the blow. She had not been old. I railed against the cruel fate which had deprived me of the one I loved.

Then I seemed to hear her voice admonishing me. I had to go on living.

I had to make a success of my life and I should never do that if I gave myself up to bitterness.

Grief is always so much harder to bear on feast days and the reason is self-pity. That sounded like my mother’s reasoning. Because other people were enjoying life that should not make one more miserable.

I arose and dressed. I had been invited to spend the day at the Mansers who farmed some of the Derringham estates. My mother and I had spent Christmas with them for several years and they had been good friends to us. They had six daughters and they had all been at the school-the two youngest were still there, great strapping girls destined surely to become farmers’ wives. There was a son too Jim, a few years older than I, who was already his father’s right-hand man.

The Mansers’ farm had always seemed to us a house of plenty. They often sent us joints of lamb and pork and my mother used to say they kept us in milk and butter.

Mrs. Manser could never be grateful enough for the education her children had received. It would have been quite beyond the family’s means to send the children away to school -and they were not the kind to employ a governess and when my mother had opened the school so close at hand, the Mansers said it was like an answer to their prayers. There were several other families who had felt the same and that was why we had had enough pupils to support the school. :

I rode to the Mansers’ on Dower and was especially warmly received by all, which was touching. I tried to throw off my grief and be as bright as possible in the circumstances. I could scarcely eat any of the goose which Mrs. Manser had prepared with such loving care, but I did try my best not to cast a gloom over the day. I joined them in the games they played afterwards and Mrs. Manser contrived to partner me with Jim, and I could see how her mind was working. It might have been amusing if I were not in such a sad mood, to see how the people who cared for me were anxious to see me settled.

I could not believe I should make a good farmer’s wife, but at least Mrs. Manser’s solution might be more possible than the wild dreams in which my mother had indulged.

Mrs. Manser insisted that I stay the night and spend the next day with them, which I did, feeling grateful not to have to go back to the lonely schoolhouse.

It was mid-afternoon of the following day when I returned. School would start at the beginning of the next week and I had to prepare the curriculum. I could scarcely bear the silence of the house, the empty chair, the empty rooms. I longed to get right away.

I had not been in the house an hour when Joel called.

He took my hands and looked into my face with such compassion that I could scarcely restrain my grief.

“I don’t know what to say to you, Minella,” he told me.

I replied: “Please say nothing. That is best. Talk … talk about anything, but not…”

He nodded, releasing my hands. He told me he had wondered about me during Christmas and had come over on the morning of Christmas Day to find me gone. I explained where I had been and told him of the kindness of the Mansers.

He took a box from his pocket and said he had a little gift for me. I opened it and there was a brooch lying on black velvet a sapphire surrounded by rose diamonds.

"I was attracted by the sapphire,” he said.

“I thought it was the colour of your eyes.”

I was overcome by emotion. Since my mother’s death I had been too easily moved by a show of kindness. It was a beautiful brooch-far more valuable than anything I had ever possessed.

“I was good of you to think of me,” I said.

“I have thought of you a great deal … all the time … since…”

I nodded and turned away. Then I took out the brooch and he watched me pin it on my dress.

“Thank you,” I said, “I shall always treasure it.”

“Minella,” he said, “I want to talk to you.”

His voice was gentle and a little apprehensive. In my mind’s eye I could see my mother’s smiling eyes, the happy curve of her lips. Could it really be?

Panic seized me. I wanted time to think . to grow accustomed to my loneliness . my unhappiness.

“Some time,” I began.

He said: I will see you tomorrow. Perhaps we will ride together. “

“Yes,” I replied.

“Please.”

He went and I sat for a long time staring ahead of me.

I was aware of a serenity in the house. It was almost as though my mother was there. I could almost hear the strains of “Heart of Oak’.

I spent a restless night turning over in my mind what I should say if Joel asked me to marry him. The brooch was perhaps a symbol of his intentions which I was sure were honourable with a man like Joel they could not be anything else. I seemed to hear my mother’s voice urging me not to hesitate. That would be foolish. I imagined that she was with me and that we discussed the matter together.

“I don’t love him as one should love a man one marries.” I could see her lips purse as I had seen them so often when she expressed contempt for a point of view.

“You don’t know anything about love, my child. That’ll come.

He’s a good man. He can give you all I ever wanted for you. Comfort, security and enough love to do for the two of you . for a start.

You couldn’t help but grow to love a man like that. I see your little ones playing there on those lawns near the sun-dial where you first really got to know each other. Oh, the joy of little ones. I only had one, but after your father died she was all the world to me. “

“Dearest of mothers, are you right? You often were but do you know what is best for me?”

I could never have told her of my feelings when the Comte had seized and kissed me. There had been a kind of stirring within me, something rather terrifying and yet irresistible. It had brought with it a realization that there was something I did not understand but which I must before I entered into marriage. The Comte had made me realize that Joel could not have that effect on me. That was all.

I could hear my mother’s gentle laugh.

“The Comte! A notorious philanderer. A most unpleasant and uncomfortable man! The fact that he behaved as he did shows him to be wicked. And his wife sleeping in the next room! Think of good kind Joel who would never do anything dishonourable and could give you all that I ever wanted for you.” All I ever wanted for you. Those words kept echoing in my mind.

III

It was on the following day that the drama started. It began by Sir John’s riding over to the schoolhouse.

“Miss Maddox,” he cried, and his distracted looks amazed me, ‘is she here? Is Margot here? “

“Margot!” I answered.

“No. I haven’t seen her for several days.”

“Oh my God, what can have become of her?”

I stared at him blankly and he went on: “She has not been seen since last night. Her bed has not been slept in. She told the girls that she was going to bed early on account of a headache. That was the last time she was seen. Have you any idea where she can have gone?”

I shook my head and tried to recall my last conversation with Margot.

There was nothing to suggest she contemplated flight.

When Sir John went back to the Manor I was very uneasy. I kept telling myself that it was a prank of hers. She would turn up and laugh at us.

For some time, though, there had been a certain secrecy about Margot.

I should have taken more notice but I had been so absorbed in my own affairs.

I could not settle to anything and in the early afternoon I could not resist going over to the Manor to see if there was any news. I waited in the hall and when Maria and Sybil came down to me their faces were taut with excitement, yet I felt they were revelling in the disturbance.

“I believe she has gone off with someone,” said Maria.

“Gone off with someone. With whom?”

That is what we have to find out. Joel is most upset. ” Maria was looking at me. of course there was to be a match between them.”

“She can’t have gone off,” said Sybil.

“There is no one for her to have gone off with. Besides she knew she was going to marry Joel as soon as she was old enough. That was why the were so anxious for her to learn English and like it here ” Have you questioned the servants? ” I asked.

“Everyone has been questioned,” replied Maria, ‘but the don’t know anything. Papa is frantic. So is Mama. He says h will have to send a message to the Comte and Comtesse if sh is not found by tomorrow. “

“She was under Papa’s care,” said Sybil.

“It is dreadful for him. I do hope nothing is wrong. We thought she might have confided in you. She was always more friendly with you that with us.”

“She confided nothing,” I said, and I thought of those occasions when I had been sure I had seen secrets in he eyes. I should have asked her what was happening. I belie vi she might have wanted to tell. Margot was not the sort t( keep secrets.

“Is there anything we can do …” I began.

“We can only wait,” replied Sybil.

As I was about to leave, one of the grooms came into th hall, dragging a young boy from the stables who looked scare out of his wits.

“Miss Maria,” said the groom, “I think I should have a won with Sir John and no delay.”

“Is it about Mademoiselle Fontaine Delibes?” asked Maria “The French young lady, yes, Miss Maria.”

Sybil ran off at once to search for her father while Maria pulled the bell rope and sent a servant in search of him. Fortunately he was soon found and came hurrying to the hall.

knew that I had no right to stay but I was so concerned about Margot that I stubbornly remained.

The groom burst out: “Tim here have something to say, Si) John. Come, Tim. Tell what you know.”

“It’s our James, sir,” said Tim.

“He haven’t been ‘ome. Hi have gone off with the French young lady, sir. He said he were going but us didn’t believe ‘im.”

“Oh my God,” muttered Sir John under his breath. He hall closed his eyes as though to convince himself that this was no really happening.

I remembered James. He was the sort a young man one would remember tall and startlingly hand some-a rather swaggering, arrogant young man who st outstanding looks appeared to have given him a good opinion of himself.

Sir John became brisk. He looked straight at the stable boy and said.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“I don’t know nothing but that he be gone, sir. I only know he said he were going to marry into society, like …”

“What ?’ cried Sir John.

“Yes, sir, he said as he were going to run away to a place in Scotland. He said they’d get married there and he’d be gentry after that.”

Sir John said: “There is no time to lose. I must go after them. I must bring her back before it is too late.”

I returned to the schoolhouse for there was no reason why I should stay. I fancied that both Maria and Sybil were inclined to think that I had played some part in Margot’s wickedness, for they were convinced that she would have confided in me. I should have to assure them that this was not the case, but Margot herself would do that when she was brought back.

I sat in the sitting-room and thought about Margot who had become involved in this foolish adventure. What if she really did marry the groom? What would the reactions of the Comte be to that? He would never forgive us for allowing it. Margot would doubtless be cast off, for could the proud Comte accept a groom as his son-in-law? How could Margot have done this? She was only sixteen years old and she had a passing fancy for a groom! How like her! No doubt she thought it amusing at first. She was quite childish. But what would the outcome of the affair be?

Mrs. Manser came over to see me. She had brought some eggs but the real object of the visit was the desire to gossip. She sat at the table, her eyes round with excitement.

“What a how-do-you-do! That little madam … going off with James Wedder. My goodness gracious me! They’ll never get over this at the Manor.”

“Sir John will bring her back.”

“If he’s in time. James Wedder was one for the girls always. He’s got a real fancy for himself, that one. Mind you, he’s a fine figure of a man. They say that far back he’s connected with the Derringhams. Sir John’s grandfather was a bit of a rip, I believe. Ladies and serving girls … it didn’t matter much to him and that meant that there was a good deal of Derringham blood hereabouts … though called by other names. There was one of the Wedder girls who had two bastards by him, so the story goes, and that where James comes in. Always gave himself airs, did James. And now to run off like that.”

They can’t have got far,” I said.

“They’ve got a start you know. They’ll bring them back mayhap … and what then?” She looked at me intently.

“They say it was to have been a match between her and Mr. Joel. That was why she was brought over here … least, that’s what I heard. What’ll happen now … who can say?”

“She is very young,” I said.

“I know her well … through school. I think she would be inclined to act recklessly and regret afterwards. I do hope Sir John is in time.”

“They say Mr. Joel is determined to stop the marriage. He’s gone off with his father. The pair of them will put an end to this, you can be sure. But what a scandal for the Manor.”

Anxious as I was to glean all the information I could, I was glad when Mrs. Manser left. I think she was trying to offer me some oblique warning, for it had been noticed that I sometimes rode out with Joel Derringham. Although there was not such a wide gulf between us as there was between Margot and her groom, still the gulf was there.

Mrs. Manser thought I should be wise to” encourage the courtship of her son Jim and learn to become a farmer’s j wife.

A whole day and night passed in anxious speculation and’;

then Sir John and Joel returned bringing Margot with them. I did not see her. She was exhausted and distraught and put straight to bed. No one called from the Manor to give me the news, and once again it was from Mrs. Manser that I gleaned information. ‘ “They found them in time. Traced them, they did. They’d covered more than seventy miles. I heard it from Tom Harris, the groom that went with Sir John. He likes a jug of our home-brew taken in the parlour.

He says they were both scared out of their wits and Master James wasn’t so bold when he was faced with Sir John. He’s been sent off on the spot.

That’s the last we’ll hear of James Wedder, I shouldn’t wonder. Not like Sir John to send a man off when he’s got nowhere to go to, but this was different, I reckon. This ‘un teach him a lesson. “

“Did you hear about Mademoiselle?”

Tom Harris said she was crying as though her heart was broken, but they brought her back . and that’s the end of James Wedder for her. “

“How could she have been so foolish!” I cried.

“She might have known.”

“Oh, he’s a dashing young fellow and young girls when they fancy themselves in love don’t always give much thought to what’s coming of it.”

Again I felt she was warning me.

Life was changing rapidly my mother gone forever and new responsibilities crowding in on me. The school was not the same; it had lost the dignity my mother had given it. I was well educated and could teach, but I seemed so young and I knew there was not the confidence in me which my mother had inspired. I was only nineteen years old. People remembered this. I found taking class more difficult than it had been there was a certain amount of insubordination. Margot had not come back to school although Maria and Sybil had. Maria told me that at the beginning of the summer she and her sister were going to a finishing school in Switzerland.

My heart sank. Without the Derringham girls, the school would lose the pupils who came from the Manor the preserve on our bread, as my mother had called them. But it was not so much the preserve I had to worry about as the bread itself.

“There is talk of our brother’s going on the Grand Tour,” Maria told me maliciously.

“Papa thinks it will be a good education for him and all young men of his station do it. He will be going soon.”

It was as though Margot’s adventure with the groom had set something in motion, the subject of which was to change everything.

I felt a sudden longing for Joel’s company he was always so calm, so reassuring in a way. And if he were going on the Grand Tour that meant that he would be away possibly for two years. What a lot could happen in two years! The once flourishing little school could become bankrupt. Without th Derringhams . what should I do? I felt I was being blame for Margot’s indiscretion. It had often been said that Marge and I were good friends. Perhaps it was also being said that had allowed myself to become too friendly with Joel Derringham - a liaison which could not have an honourable ending and that had been a bad influence on Margot.

When two girls from one of the nearby big country house announced that they were leaving and going to a finishing school it was like a red light flickering at the end of a tunneI took Dower out for a long ride hoping to meet Joel an hear from his own lips that he was going away. But I did not see him and that in itself was significant.

On a Sunday morning he came to see me. My heart started to beat faster as I watched him tether his horse. As he cam into the sitting-room he looked very grave.

“I’m going away shortly,” he told me.

There was silence broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock.

“Maria mentioned it,” I heard myself say.

“Well, of course it is considered to be part of one’s education.”

Where shall you go? “

“Europe … Italy, France, Spain … the Grand Tour.”

“It will be most interesting.”

“I would rather not go.”

Then why? “

“My father insists.” ;

“I see, and you must obey him.” “I always have.” “And you couldn’t stop doing so now, naturally. But why should you want to ?”

“Because … There is a reason why I don’t want to g< He looked at me steadily.

“I have prized our friendship.” j “It was good.”

“Is good. I’ll be back, Minella.”

“That will be in the future.”

“But I shall come back. Then I shall talk to you … ver seriously.”

“If you come back and I am here I shall be interested t hear what you have to say.”

He smiled and I said quietly: “When do you leave?”

“In two weeks’ time.”

I nodded.

“Can I get you a glass of wine? My mother’s speciality. She was proud of the wines she made. There is sloe gin too. It is very palatable.”

“I am sure it is, but I want nothing now. I just came to talk to you.”

“You will see some glorious works of art … and architecture. You will be able to study the night sky in Italy. You will learn the politics of the countries through which you pass. It will be an education.”

He was looking at me almost piteously. I thought that if I made a certain move he might suddenly come to me and put his arms about me and urge me to be as foolish and reckless as Margot and her groom. I thought: No. It is not for me to lead the way. If he wants to enough he must do that. I wondered what the Derringhams would do if Joel told them he wanted to marry me. A second disaster and so similar to the other. A mesalliance, they would call it.

Oh my dear mother, how wrong you were!

“I shall see you before I go,” he was saying.

“I want us to ride out together. There is so much I want to discuss.”

After he had gone I sat at the table thinking of him. I knew what he meant. His family, realizing his interest in me, were sending him away. Margot’s episode had alerted them to danger.

Over the mantelpiece hung the picture of my mother which my father had had painted during the first year of their marriage. It was wonderfully like her. I gazed at those steady eyes, that resolute mouth.

“You dreamed too much,” I said.

“It was never meant to come to anything.”

And I was not sure that I wanted it to. All I knew was that my world was collapsing about me. I could see the pupils drifting away and I felt lonely and a little afraid.

Joel left and the days seemed long. I was glad when school was over though I dreaded the long evenings when I lighted the lamps and tried to occupy myself with preparations for the next day’s lessons. I was grateful for the frequent company of the Mansers, but I was always aware of Jim and their expectations with regard to him and me. I fancied Mrs.

Manser was telling her husband that I had come to my senses and stopped thinking of Joel Derringham.

I was deeply regretting the loss of our savings. There were several lengths of expensive material in my mother’s bedroom and the cost of keeping Dower had to be considered. I could not get rid of dear Jenny who had served us so well, so there were two of them to keep.

Maria and Sybil talked constantly of their approaching departure for Switzerland and I was haunted by the fear that I was not going to be able to keep the school going.

When I was alone at night I would imagine my mother was there and I would talk to her. I used to fancy I could hear her voice coming to me over that great void which separates the dead from the living, and I was comforted.

“One door shuts and another opens.” She had a stock of such well-worn truisms at her disposal to bring out when they fitted the occasion, and I had often teased her about them. Now I remembered them and rejoiced in them.

There was one thing which alarmed me and that was the new coolness of Sir John and Lady Derringham towards me. They considered I had behaved in a most unbecoming manner by allowing their son to be attracted by me. I should have known better, and they laid the blame on me, seeing me, I was sure, as a scheming adventuress. Even though Joel had been sent away on his Grand Tour, I believe they had decided that I should be given no more chances to practise my wiles, which meant of course a withdrawal of their patronage. This was the most frightening aspect of the situation. My mother had constantly mentioned what great good had come to us through them, and I was wondering how long I could run the school at a loss.

One blustering March day Margot came to say goodbye to me. She looked subdued, but I detected a sparkle of mischief i in her eyes. It was a Sunday-a day when there was no school and I-‘ expected she had chosen it for that reason. “Hello, Minelle,” she said. “I am going home next week. I’ve come to say goodbye. ” I felt suddenly wretched. I had been fond of Margot and it i meant that everything and everyone I cared about was slip) ping away from me.

“This little episode-‘ she spread her hands as though to embrace the schoolhouse, myself and the whole of England ‘it is over.”

“Well, it has been an experience for you.”

“Sad, yes, and happy … and amusing. Nothing is all one of those, is it. There is always some of each. Poor James. I often wonder where he is. Sent away in disgrace. But he will find a new place … more girls to love.”

“And you?”

“I also.”

“It was a foolish thing to do, Margot.”

“Yes, was it not? Like most adventures, they are so much more fun to plan than to carry out. We used to lie under the hedge in the shrubbery and make plans. That was the best part. It was so dangerous.

I used to run and find him at every possible moment. “

“When you played hide and seek, even,” I said.

She nodded, laughing at me.

“Anyone might have seen us at any time. We both said we did not care.”

“But you were afraid of what might happen.”

“Oh yes. But I like to be afraid. Don’t you? Oh no, you are too righteous. Though what about you and Joel, eh? In a way we are in the same position … two of a kind, as they say, do they not? We both lost our lovers.”

“Joel was not my lover.”

“Well, he hoped to be. And you hoped. It made me laugh. You … the schoolmistress. Me … and the groom. It was a dance … the dance of the classes. Funny, do you, see?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You have become a true schoolmistress, Minelle. But we had fun together-and now I am to go back to France. Sir John and Lady Derringham have been longing to be rid of me and now I am going.”

“I am sorry. I shall miss you very much.”

She stood up and in her impulsive way flung her arms about me.

“And I shall miss you, Minelle. I always liked you the best. I cannot talk to Marie and Sybil. They look down their silly noses at me as though I have the plague … and all because I have known something which they have not … and never will, most likely. Perhaps you will come and see me in France.”

“I cannot see how this would be possible.”

“I might ask you.”

“It is kind of you, Margot.”

“Minelle, I am a little worried.”

“Worried? What about?”

“I don’t know what I should do.”

“Perhaps you should explain.”

“When James and I lay under the hedge in the shrubbery we did not simply make plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am going to have a child, Minelle.”

“Margot!”

“The ultimate shame,” she cried.

“If is not so much what one does as being caught in it. You see, James could have been my lover and that would have been a regrettable incident … to be hushed up and forgotten. But when there is living evidence of our liaison, what then? Shame. Disaster. Well, that is the story, Minelle. What am I to do?”

“Do Sir John and Lady Derringham know this?”

“No one knows but you … and me.”

“Margot, what can you do?”

“That is what I want you to advise me on.”

“What advice is there? You are going to have a child and there can be no hiding it.”

“It will be hidden. People have had illegitimate children in the past and hidden it.”

“How will you hide it?”

“That is what I must discover.”

“Margot, how can help you in this?”p>

“That is what I came to talk about.” I saw the fear in her eyes then.

“I’m afraid to go home … like this. Soon all will see it, will they not? And my father …”

In my mind’s eye I saw him as clearly as I had that first time in Derringham Manor. I could feel his lips hard against mine.

“Perhaps he will understand,” I suggested.

Margot laughed rather bitterly.

“He will have had his bastards, doubt it not. That is nothing . a bagatelle. But what is acceptable for a man like my father is the ultimate disgrace for his daughter. ”

” It is so unfair. ”

“Of course it’s unfair, Minelle, but what am I going to do? When I think of facing my father I feel like going to the top of the tower and throwing myself over.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I never would, of course. I am always so interested to know what is coming next. Minelle, let’s run away … you and I. The school is not going well, is it? I’ve heard them talk. Joel has gone. The lover who had to obey his parents rather than follow his love! Pouff!” She snapped her fingers.

“James … he was bold.

“We will become gipsies,” he said.

“I will make a fortune and we will live in a castle as grand as your father’s …” And then Sir John comes and he withers and is then only a frightened boy. I am not weak like that. Nor are you. We are not people to do something because it has always been done. We can make up our minds. We can fight. “

“You are talking nonsense, Margot.”

“What am I going to do, then?”

There is only one thing you can do. You must go to Sir John and tell him you are expecting a child. He is kind. He will help you and he will know what to do. “

“I’d rather tell him than tell my father.”

“Perhaps your mother will help.”

Margot laughed.

“My mother would not dare do anything. She would only tell him and I might as well do that.”

“What do you think he will do?”

“He will be mad with rage. I am the only child of the marriage. That infuriates him in itself. No son to carry on the great line-and my mother too weak and ailing and the doctors insisting that she must have no more children. So I am the hope of the house, I have to make a grand marriage. Although there was talk of Joel for me, I don’t think my father thought it was ideal. He was only considering it because of the troubles in France and he thought English estates might be useful in the near future. Well, now the hope of the house is about to bear a bastard and a groom is its father!”

She burst into loud laughter which alarmed me for it told me that for all her flippant talk she was on the verge of hysteria.

Poor Margot! She was indeed in an unhappy situation and as I saw it there was only one way out. She must tell Sir John and ask for his help.

She was against doing that and continued with wild plans for our running away together, but at length I impressed on her that this would be as futile as her elopement and when she left me she seemed a little calmer and I believe had made up her mind that the only possible action was to confess her plight.

The next day after school when I was putting the books away and trying to fight off the depression which had beset me when two more pupils had told me that morning that they were leaving at the end of the term, Margot arrived.

She had run all the way from the Manor and was breathless. I made her sit down and gave her a glass of my mother’s tonic which she had said was good for depression, and not until Margot had drunk it would I listen to her.

Then she told me that she had gone to Sir John and told him.

“I thought he. would die of shock. He seemed to think that although we were lovers and had planned to marry it was quite impossible that we could have behaved in what he called “this irresponsible way” He didn’t believe me at first. He thinks I am quite innocent and believe that babies are found under gooseberry bushes. He kept saying: “It cannot be so. It is a mistake. My dear Margot, you are such a child” I told him I was old enough to have a baby and to do beforehand that which was necessary to produce one. The way he looked at me! I could have laughed if I had not been a little frightened. Then he said what I knew he would.

“I must tell your parents at once.” So you see, Minelle, what you have done. Through your advice we have brought about the very thing we wanted to avoid. “

“It was impossible to avoid it, Margot. How could you keep such a secret from them? It’s not as though it is merely a matter of having a baby. After its birth the baby will be there. How could you cope with that … without their knowing.”

She shook her head.

Then she looked at me steadily, her enormous dark eyes like brilliant lamps in her pale face.

“I dread facing him,” she said.

I could well believe that, and I did my best to comfort her. Her nature was such that she could be in the depth of despair and shortly afterwards sparkle with joie de vivre. She laughed a good deal but there was often hysteria in that laughter and I knew she was terrified of her father.

She did not leave for France at the appointed time. She came to the schoolhouse to tell me that her father was coming to England and that she was to stay at the Manor until he arrived. She had now assumed an air of bravado, but i wondered how deep it went. Poor Margot! She was in great trouble.

It was Mrs. Manser who told me that the Comte had arrived at the Manor.

“I reckon,” she said, ‘that he has come to take Mademoiselle home.

She’ll have a talking-to and no mistake. Imagine the Comte’s rage at his daughter going off with a groom! “

“I can well imagine it.”

“My word! He’s a gentleman who has a high opinion of himself. You’ve only got to see him riding round to know that. And his daughter thinking she was going to marry James Wedder! I never heard the like.

It don’t do, you know. God put you where you are and that’s where you should stay to my mind. “

I was in no mood to listen to her homilies and when she invited me back to supper I pleaded too much school work.

“How’s the school going, Minelle?” Her forehead was creased into lines of anxiety but her mouth betrayed a certain satisfaction. In her opinion it was not right for women to be anything but wives and the less profitable the school was the sooner I should come to my senses.

She wanted to see her Jim settled with a wife of her choice (and oddly enough I was that) and little ones running about the farm, learning to milk cows and feed the hens. I smiled, picturing my mother’s distaste.

Soon after Mrs. Manser had gone a messenger came from the Manor. My presence was requested there and Sir John and Lady Derringham would be pleased if I came without delay. It was almost a summons.

I thought it must be something to do with the departure from the school of Maria and Sybil. Perhaps they were not going to see the term through but were leaving at once With some trepidation I realized that the Comte would be there. But it seemed hardly likely that I I crossed the lawn, passed the sun-di hall. One of the footmen told me that for me in the blue drawing-room and he without delay. He opened the door and saw Sir John standing with his back to leaped and started to pound uncomfor

I was at the window, looking out.

“Ah, Miss Maddox,” said Sir John.

The Comte swung round and bowed.

“I dare say you wonder why we have here,” said Sir John.

“It concerns this Marguerite. The Comte has a propositior I am going to leave you with him that He indicated a high-backed chair faci sat down.

As the door shut on Sir John, the Co window seat and folding his arms re gar “Since, Mademoiselle Maddox, you’s little better than I speak yours, it might this conversation in French. I want you the nature of my proposal.”

“If I should fail to understand I shall A faint smile touched his lips. Mademoiselle, for you are very know led tres sing affair of my daughter. What shame … for our noble house.”

“It is certainly unfortunate.”

He spread his hands and I noticed ag ring and the exquisite white lace at th “I do not intend to allow it to be moi need. I must tell you that I have no soi one who may well have to carry on ou must prevent that.

But first she must p tard . this son of a groom. He shal name. “

I reminded him that the child might be “Let us hope it will be so. A daughter But first we must consider what must must be born in obscurity. I can arra will go to a place. I shall find for her. St. This or That … and she will have a companion with her.

Marguerite will be a widow in some distress because her young husband was killed in an accident. Her kind cousin is looking after her. The child will be born, put with foster parents, and Marguerite will return to her home and it will be as though this unfortunate matter had never happened. “

“It seems an easy solution.”

“Not so easy. It will need some planning. I do not like these secrets in families. This is not the end of the matter … with a child who will be there for the rest of its life. You see, Mademoiselle, I am very uneasy.”

That I understand, of course. “

“You are a very understanding young woman. I knew it from our first meeting.” A smile touched his lips and he was silent for a few moments. Then he went on: “You are puzzled, I can see. You wonder where you come into this. Now I will tell you. You will be the cousin.”

“What cousin?”

“Marguerite’s cousin, naturally. You will accompany her to the place I shall find for you. You will look after her, be with her, make sure she does not act foolish again-and I shall know that she is in good hands.”

I was so astonished that I stammered: “It … it’s impossible.”

“Impossible! That is a word I do not like. When people say to me Impossible, I then decide that I will show it to be possible.”

“I have my school.”

“Ah, your school. That saddens me. I hear it is not doing as well as it should.”

“What do you mean?”

He spread his hands and somehow managed to convey that he was distressed by my misfortunes while the curve of his lips showed that he found my plight amusing . and a little gratifying. This is a time for frank speaking,” he said.

“Mademoiselle Maddox, I have my need. You have yours. What will you do when the school becomes a liability rather than an asset, eh? Tell me that.”

There is no question of that arising. “

“Oh come, did I not ask for plain speaking? If you will forgive my bluntness, you are not the mature figure your mother was. People hesitate. Shall I send my daughters to a school where the Principal … the only teacher … is little more than a girl herself? Look what happens. One pupil runs off with a groom.

Would that have happened while your mother was in charge? “

“Your daughter’s elopement has nothing to do with the school.”

“My daughter spent many hours with you at your school. There she gossiped and told her love secrets, I do not doubt. Then she elopes with the groom. It is a disaster for her … for us … for you and the school. Particularly when I hear some gossip that the son had to depart on the Grand Tour somewhat hastily on your account.”

“You are … offensive.”

“I know. To tell you the truth it’s part of my charm. I cultivate it.

It is so much more attractive than geniality. Particularly when I am speaking the truth, and that is, my dear Mademoiselle, that you are in an uneasy situation . and so am I. Let us be friends. Let us help each other. What will you do when the school no longer provides you with a living? You will become a governess, I’ll swear, to some hateful children who will make your life a misery. But you might marry.

You could become a farmer’s wife, perhaps . and let me tell you this, that would be the greatest tragedy of all. “

“You seem to know a great deal about my private affairs.”

I make a point of learning what interests me. “

“But I cannot do what you suggest.”

“For such an intelligent young woman you say some foolish things sometimes. But then I know you do not mean them so it does not alter my opinion of you. I am interested in you, Mademoiselle. Are you not in charge of my daughter and going to take an even closer interest in her? I want you to leave as soon as possible but I understand that you will have matters to clear up. I am a reasonable man. I would not wish to hurry you too much and fortunately we have a little time.”

“You go too fast.”

“I always go fast. It is the best way to travel. But you will find it not too fast. Just the right speed. Well, the matter is settled then and we can get down to details.”

The matter is far from settled. Suppose I agreed . suppose I stayed with Margot until the child is born, what then? “

“There would be a position for you in my household.”

“Position? What position?”

That we can decide on. You will be Marguerite’s cousin during your stay in the house where I shall send you. Perhaps you could continue to be that. I have always found that when practising deception it is well to be consistent. One should keep as near to the truth as possible and keep the fiction plausible throughout. Fact and fiction must be skilfully woven to give an impression of complete truth, and once having established yourself as a cousin, it may be that it would be well for you to continue in that role. Your nationality provides difficulties. We must have it that the daughter of a great-great-great-grandfather married into England and you are from a branch of that family tree, which makes you a cousin, though a remote one. You will be Marguerite’s companion and look after her. She will need looking after. This episode has proved that. Is that not a good proposition? It gets you out of your difficulties and me out of mine.

”It seems quite outrageous. “

The best things in life can be just that. I will start making arrangements without delay. “

“I have not yet agreed to come.”

“But you will, for you are a woman of sound good sense. You make your mistakes like most of us but you will not repeat them. I know that and I want you to endow Marguerite with some of your good sense. She is a wayward child, I fear.” He stood up and came to my chair. I also stood and faced turn. He laid his hands on my shoulders and I was vividly reminded of that other occasion in his bedroom. I think he was too, for he sensed my shrinking and it amused him.

“It is always a mistake to be afraid of life,” he said, “Who said that I was afraid?”

“I can read your thoughts.”

Then you are very clever. “

“You will discover how clever … in time, perhaps. Now I am going to be kind as well as clever. This has come as a shock to you. You had no idea of the proposition I was going to put to you and I can see the thoughts turning over and over in your mind. My dear Mademoiselle, face the facts. The school is in decline; this affair of my daughter has shocked members of the gentry.

You may say it was none of your affair but Marguerite was at your school and you have had the misfortune to attract the heir of Derringham. You cannot help being charming, but these people are not as far-seeing as I am. They will say you set out to catch him and the Derringhams found out in time and sent him off. Unfair, you say. You had no intention of trapping this young man. But it is not always what is true that counts. I give your school another six months . perhaps eight . and then what? Come, be sensible. Be Marguerite’s cousin. I will see that you need not be worried with finances again.

Get away from the schoolhouse of sad memories. I know of the love between you and your mother. What can you do here but brood? Get away from slander, from gossip. Mademoiselle, this unfortunate state of affairs can bring a new life to you. “

So much of what he was saying was true. I heard myself murmur: “I cannot decide immediately.”

He gave a little sigh of relief.

“No, no. It asks too much. You shall have today and to, morrow to decide. You will think about this and the plight of my daughter. She is fond of you. When I told her what I proposed she became happy. She loves you. Mademoiselle. Think of her distress. And think of your future too.”

He took my hand and kissed it. I was ashamed of the emotion it aroused in me and I hated myself for being so impressed by such a philanderer, which I was sure he was.

Then he bowed and left me.

Thoughtfully I returned to the schoolhouse.

I sat up late that night going through the books. In any case I knew I could not sleep. The effect that man had on me astonished me. He repelled me and yet attracted me. I could not! get him out of my mind.

To be in his house . to have a position there . a sort of cousin!

I should be a ‘poor relation’, a sort of companion to Margot. Well, what was I going to do otherwise? I did not have to be told that the school was in decline. People were going to blame me for Margot’s indiscretion andl was it true that they were hinting that I had tried to trap Joel Derringham into marriage? The dressmaker would know of the dresses my mother had had made; she had probably been shown the dress lengths in the cupboard. I had a new horse that I might ride with Joel. Oh, I could guess what these people were saying.

Desperately I longed for the calm guidance I could have had from my mother, and suddenly I knew that I could never be happy in this schoolhouse without her. There were too many memories. Everywhere I turned I could picture her so clearly.

I wanted to get away. Yes, the Comte was right, I would face the truth. The thought of going to France, of standing by Margot until her child was born, and then going to live in the Comte’s household excited me, drew me away from my sense of loss and grief more surely than I had thought anything could do.

No wonder I could not sleep.

All through the day I was absent-minded as I taught my classes. It had been so much easier when the pupils were divided between my mother and myself. She had taken the older ones and I could cope easily with the younger. Before I had taken on the role of teacher she had managed quite well, but even she had said what a boon it was to have two of us. She had been a born teacher. I was something less than that.

All through the day I thought of the opportunity which was being offered to me, and it began to seem like an adventure which could restore my interest in life.

When school was over Margot called. She threw herself into my arms and hugged me.

“Oh, Minelle, you are coming with me, then! It does not seem half as bad if you are going to be there. Papa told me. He said: ” Mademoiselle Maddox will take care of you. She is thinking about it but I have no doubt that she will come. ” I felt happier than I have for a long time.”

It’s by no means settled,” I told her. I have not yet made up my mind.”

“But you will come, won’t you? Oh, Minelle, if you say No, what shall I do?”

“I am not really necessary to the plan. You will go away quietly into the country where your child will be born and put out to foster parents. From there you will go to your father’s household and carry on from there. It is not an uncommon story in families like yours, I believe.”

“Oh, so coo’ll So precise! You are just what I need. But Minelle, dear, dear Minelle, I shall have to go through life with this dark, dark secret. I shall need support. I shall need you. Papa says you are to be my cousin. Cousine Minelle! Does that not sound just right? And after this horrible business is over we shall be together. You are the only reason I like it here.”

“What about James Wedder?”

“Oh, that was fun for a while, but look what it brought me to. It is not as bad as I feared it might be. I mean Papa … he was thunderous at first… despising me … and it was not for having an affaire, you know. It was because I had been so foolish as to become pregnant. He said he might have known I had a touch of the wanton in me. But if you will only come with me, Minelle, it will be all right.

I know it will. You will come . you must. “

She had got to her knees and folded her hands together as in prayer.

“Please, please. God, make Minelle come with me.”

“Get up and don’t be so silly,” I said.

“This is not the time for histrionics.”

She went into peals of laughter which was, I commented, scarcely becoming to a fallen woman.

“I need you, Minelle,” she cried.

“You make me laugh. So serious .. and yet not really so. I know you, Minelle. You try to play the schoolmistress, but you could never be a real one. That’s what I always believed. Joel was a fool. My father said he is stuffed with sawdust… not good red blood.”

Why should he say that about Joel? “

“Because he went away when Papa Derringham said he must. Papa sneers at that.”

“Does he sneer at you for going where he sends you?”

That is different. Joel was not pregnant. ” The laughter bubbled up again. I could not make up my mind whether this was hysteria or sheer fecklessness. But I felt my spirits lifted by her inconsequential conversation. Moreover, when she implored me to go with her, there was real panic in her eyes.

“I can bear it all if you are there,” she said more seriously.

“It will be fun . , . almost. I’ll be the young married lady whose husband has died suddenly. My staid cousin-English, but still a cousin due to a mesalliance years ago is with me to look after me.

She is just the right one to do it because she is so calm and cool and a little severe. Oh Minelle, you will come. You must. “

“Margot, I still have to think. It is a big undertaking and I have not yet made up my mind.”

“Papa will be furious if you refuse.”

“His feelings are no concern of mine.”

But they are of mine. At the moment he is making light of the matter.

That is because he has a solution and you are part of it. You will come, Minelle. I know you will. If you don’t I shall die of despair.”

She chattered on, her eyes sparkling. She was not a bit afraid, she said, if I would come with her. She talked as though we were about to embark on some wonderful holiday together. It was foolish, but I began to catch her excitement.

I knew perhaps I had known all along that I was going to accept this challenge. I must escape from this house, become so gloomy with the light of my mother’s presence removed from it; I must get away from the vaguely menacing shadow of poverty which was beginning to encroach. But it was like taking a step into the unknown.

I dreamed again that night that I was standing outside the schoolhouse, but it was not the familiar scene I saw there. Ahead of me lay a wood the trees thick together. I believed it was an enchanted wood and I was going to walk through it. Then I saw the Comte. He was beckoning to me.

I awoke. Certainly I had made up my mind.

The Sojourn at Petit Montlys

I

Petit Montlys was a charming small town some hundred miles south of Paris, sheltering in the shadow of its bigger sister town known as Grand Montlys. It was the end of April when we arrived. I had sold my furniture with the help of Sir John and had taken Jenny over to the Mansers, asking them to look after her. Sir John himself paid me a good price for Dower and promised that if I returned to England he would sell her back to me for the price my mother had paid for her. I was to receive a salary from the Comte which was handsome by any standards and only when the burden was lifted from my shoulders did I realize how anxious I had been about my financial situation.

Mrs. Manser shook her head over my decision. Clearly she disapproved.

She did not know, of course, that Margot was pregnant, but thought I was taking a post as her companion in the Comte’s household, which was the story the Derringhams put about.

“You’ll be back,” she prophesied. I give you no more than a couple of months. There’ll be a room for you here. Then I reckon you’ll know which side your bread is buttered. “

I kissed her and thanked her.

“You were always such a good friend to me and my mother,” I told her.

“I don’t like to see a sensible woman take the wrong, turning,” she said.

“I know what it is, though. It’s all that upset over Joel Derringham. It’s clear what that was worth and I do see that you want to get away for a while.”

I left it at that, letting her think she was right. I did not want to show her how exhilarated I felt.

We travelled by post-chaise to the coast and there took ship for France. We were lucky to have a fair crossing and when we reached the other side were met by a middle-aged couple-evidently loyal servants of the Comte’s-who were to be our chaperons throughout the journey.

We did not go through Paris but stayed in small inns and after several days finally arrived at Petit Montlys and there were taken to the home of Madame Gremond, who was to be our landlady for the next few months.

She received us warmly and commiserated with Margot, who had become Madame Ie Brun, on the exigencies of such a journey for a woman in her condition. I was glad to be able to retain my own name.

I cannot but say how Margot seemed to be enjoying her role. She had always liked play-acting and this must surely , be the most important part she had ever played. The story ] was that her husband, Pierre Ie Brun, who had managed a large estate for a very important nobleman, had been drowned while trying to save his master’s wolfhound during a flood in northern France. His wife had found that she was to have a child and because her husband’s death had so distressed her, her cousin had, on the advice of her doctor, brought her right away from the scene of the tragedy, that she might remain tranquil until after the birth of her baby.

Margot threw herself so whole-heartedly into her re1e and talked fondly of Pierre, shedding tears over his death and even endowing the wolfhound with life.

“Dear faithful Chon Chon He was devoted to my dear Pierre,” she said.

“Who would have thought that one day Chon-Chon would be the cause of my darling’s death.”

Then she would talk of how tragic it was that Pierre would never see his child. I wondered whether she was thinking of James Wedder then.

The journey had indeed been exhausting and it was good that we had taken it when we did. A few weeks later and it would have been very trying for Margot.

Madame Gremond turned out to be the most discreet of women and I was to wonder, during the next few months, whether she was aware of the truth. She was a handsome woman and in her youth must have been extremely attractive. She must now be in her mid-forties and the thought occurred to me that she might be doing what she was for an old friend the Comte, of course. K I was right, she was a woman whom he would trust; and of course the thought had occurred to me that she might well have been one of the numerous mistresses I was sure he had had.

The house was pleasant not large, but set in a garden and approached by a drive. Although it was in the town it seemed isolated because of the trees which surrounded it.

Margot and I were given rooms side by side at the back of the house overlooking the gardens. These rooms, though not luxurious, were adequately furnished. There were two maids in the house Jeanne and Emilie Dupont, whose duty it was to wait on us. Jeanne was inclined to be talkative, while Emilie was almost morose and scarcely said a word unless she was spoken to. Jeanne was very interested in us; her little dark eyes were like a monkey’s, I thought alive with curiosity. She hovered about Margot, fussing over her, so eager was she for her comfort. Margot, who loved to be the centre of attention, soon grew quite fond of her. I would often find them chattering together.

“Be careful,” I warned.

“You could easily betray something.”

“I shall betray nothing,” she protested.

“Do you know, sometimes I awake in the night and almost weep for poor Pierre, which shows you how deep I am in my part. It really does seem that he was my husband.”

“I expect he looks rather like James Wedder.”

“Exactly. I thought that was the best way to play it … as near to the truth as possible. After all, James is the baby’s father and I did lose him suddenly-only by a different method.”

“Quite a different kind of exit,” I commented wryly. But I was pleased to see how she was recovering from the first shock of her experience.

Now she was gay, actually revelling in the situation, which would have been difficult to understand if one had not been aware of Margot’s temperament.

She had one characteristic which was a help to her. She could live completely in the present, no matter how threatening the future might seem. I confess there were times when I was influenced by her and when what was happening seemed like a merry adventure instead of the serious matter it was.

The weather was perfect. All through June we enjoyed the sunshine. We would sit under the sycamore tree and talk as we sewed. We took a great delight in making baby garments though neither of us, I must admit, were exactly geniuses with our needles; and Margot would often tire of a garment before she had finished it. Emilie, it seemed, was an expert needle-woman and more than once she came to the rescue and finished off some little thing, decorating it with the most exquisite feather-stitching, at which she excelled. She would take the garment away and we would find it finished and neatly folded in one of our rooms. When we thanked her she would seem quite embarrassed. I found communication with her very difficult.

“It’s due to Jeanne’s being so much prettier,” Margot told me.

“Poor Emilie, she’s scarcely a beauty, is she?” I “She’s a good worker.”

“Maybe, but will that get her a husband? Jeanne plans to marry Gaston the gardener in due course. She told me all about it. Madame Gremond has promised them one of the outhouses which they can turn into a cottage. Gaston is clever with his hands.”

Again I repeated my warning: “Do you think you gossip too much with Jeanne?”

“Why should I not talk to her? It passes the time.”

“We shall have Madame Gremond complaining that she chats with you instead of working.”

“Madame Gremond is anxious to make us comfortable, I think.”

“I wonder why we have been sent to her.”

My father arranged it. “

“Do you think she is or might have been a friend of his?”

Margot lifted her shoulders.

“That may be. He has many friends.”

I used to wake to the sunshine in the morning and pull up the blinds which were at all the windows, for the sun could be fierce. I would look out on to the garden, the smooth lawn, the wicker seats under the sycamore tree, the pond in which the birds bathed. It was a scene of utter peace.

During the first weeks we often took a walk through the town where we would shop for what we wanted. We became known as Madame Ie Brun, the very young widow who had suffered a great tragedy-when she had lost the husband who would never see his child, and the English cousin. I knew they gossiped about us; sometimes they would barely wait for us to leave the shop. Of course, our coming was an event in the quietness of Petit Montlys, and I sometimes doubted the Comte’s wisdom in sending us here. Whereas we might have been lost in a larger town, here we were the focus of attention.

Sometimes we did a little shopping for Madame Gremond, and I enjoyed buying the hot loaves which came straight from the glowing oven set in the wall. The baker drew them out with his long tongs and displayed them for us to select those which most appealed to us. Slack baked, well baked, medium baked, you took your choice. And what delicious bread it was!

Then we would stroll through the market which took place every Wednesday, and on those days the peasants would come in from the surrounding country, their produce laden on donkeys, and set up in the market square. The housewives of Petit Montlys drove a hard bargain with them and I liked to listen to the haggling. We so much enjoyed the market that we asked Madame Gremond to let us shop for her there too. Sometimes Jeanne or Emilie would come with us because she said the peasants put up prices when they saw the sad widow and her English cousin.

By the end of June we both felt that we had been in Petit Montlys for months. Sometimes the strangeness of it all would strike me, for my life had changed so drastically. Only this time last year my mother had been alive and I had had no idea that I would ever do anything but continue with the teaching career she had planned for me.

Each day seemed very like the last and there was nothing like this peaceful pleasant monotony to make the time slip by unheeded.

Margot’s condition was now noticeable. We made full, loose garments for her and she would laugh at her reflection.

“Who would ever have believed could look like this?”

"Who would have believed you could have allowed yourself to,” I countered. Trust the prim and proper English cousin to point that out. Oh, Minelle, I do love you, you know. I love that astringent, way of yours . taking me down when I need it. It has not the slightest effect on me but I love it.”

“Margot,” I said, ‘sometimes I think you should be a little more serious. ”

Her face puckered suddenly.

“No, please don’t ask me to. It’s the baby, Minelle. Now that it’s moving, it seems to be real. It seems to be alive. “

It is real. It is alive. It always has been. ”

I know. But now it’s a person. What will happen when it’s born? “

“Your father explained. It will be sent away. It will have a foster mother.”

“And I shall never see it again.”

“You know that is what is intended.”

“It seemed an easy solution then, but lately … Well Minelle, I’m beginning to want it … to love it ” You will have to be brave, Margot. “

“I know.”

She said no more but I could see she was brooding. My feather-brained little Margot was realizing that she was about to become a mother. I was anxious and in a way would have preferred her to behave in her feather-brained, inconsequential manner, for if she were going to grieve for the child she would be very unhappy.

One day there was a rather unpleasant incident in the town which upset the pleasant tenor of the days. Margot did not often accompany me now, as she was getting too unwieldy and preferred to take exercise in the garden. I had bought ribbons to trim a gown for the baby and, as I emerged from the shop, a carriage came clattering by. It was an elegant vehicle drawn by two magnificent white horses. A young man stood at the back resplendent in livery the colour of peacock’s feathers trimmed with gold braid.

A group of boys standing at the street corner jeered at the young man and one of them threw a stone at him. He took no notice and the carriage went on.

The boys were chattering excitedly together. I heard the word “Aristocrats’ spat out contemptuously and remembered my talks with Joel Derringham.

Several people had come out to their shop doors and were shouting to each other.

“Did you see the fine carriage?”

“Yes, I saw it. And the haughty ones inside. Looking down their noses at us, eh? Did you see that?”

“I saw. Bat it will not always be so.”

“Down with them. Why should they live in luxury while we starve.”

I had seen no evidence of starvation in Petit Montlys but I did know that those who farmed a little land had difficulty in making a living.

The incident did not end there. Unfortunately the occupants of the carriage decided that they needed some of the cheeses which they must have glimpsed in one of the shops, and the young footman was sent to purchase them.

The sight of him, in his gorgeous uniform, was too much for the children. They ran after him shouting, trying to pull off the braid on his jacket.

He hurried into the cheese shop and the children stayed outside.

Monsieur Jourdain, the grocer, would be angry with them if they disturbed his customers, particularly those who could be expected to pay special prices. I was close by so I saw exactly what happened.

When the young man emerged from the shop about six boys leaped on him.

They snatched the cheeses from his hands and tore at his coat. In desperation he hit out at them and one boy went sprawling on the cobbles. There was blood on his cheek.

A cry of rage went up and the footman, who must have seen that he was hopelessly outnumbered, pushed his way through the melee of shouting children and ran.

I went quickly along the street and saw that the carriage was in the square. The young man shouted to the coachman and leaped on to the back of it. In a very short time it was clattering out of the square, but not before several people had run out of their houses shouting abuse for the aristocrats. Stones were flung after the retreating carriage and I was , glad when it was out of sight. C The baker had seen me. He must have left his baking to come and look.

“You are all right. Mademoiselle?” he asked. Yes, thank you. “

“You look distraite.”

That was rather horrible. “

“Oh yes. It happens. Wise people should not drive their carriages about the countryside.”

“How can they go otherwise?”

The poor go on foot. Mademoiselle. “

“But if one has a carriage …”

“It is sad that some should have carriages while of walk.”

“It has always been so.”

“It is not to say it always will be. The people are tired oi the differences. The rich are too rich … the poor too poor The rich care nothing for the poor, but soon, Mademoise they will be made to care.”

“And the carriage … whose was that?”

“Some lord, I don’t doubt. Let him enjoy his carriage ..” while he can. “

I went back thoughtfully to the house. As I came into cool hall I met Madame Gremond.

“Madame Ie Brun is resting?” she asked.

“Yes. She is beginning to feel the need to. I was glad she was not with me this afternoon. Something unpleasant happened.”

“Come into my salon and tell me,” she said.

It was cool in the room blinds drawn to shut out the sun. A little old-fashioned, I thought it, and very discreet with thick blue curtains and some beautiful Sevres china in the glass cabinet. There was an ornate ormolu clock in the wall. She had some fine objects here, I realized. Gifts, I thought, from a lover the Comte perhaps?

I told her about the incident.

“It happens often nowadays,” she said.

“If a carriage appears it is like a red rag to a bull. A fine carriage symbolizes wealth. I have not used mine for six months. It is foolish, but I fancy the people don’t like it.” She looked round the room and shivered.

“In the old days I would not have thought this possible. Times have changed and are changing fast.”

“Is it safe for us to go into the town?”

They wouldn’t harm you. It is the aristocrats they are against. France is not a happy country. There is much unrest. “

“We have troubles in England.”

“Ah, it is a changing world. Those who have had, may not have in the future. There is too much poverty in France. It breeds envy. Many of our rich people do much good but many are idle and do great harm.

There is a growing anger and envy throughout the country. I believe it is even more evident in Paris. What you saw this afternoon is a commonplace. “

“I hope I don’t see it again. There was murder in the air. I believe they would have killed that innocent young footman.”

“They would say he should not be working for the rich and that there was a good reason to attack him because he is an enemy of the people.”

“This is dangerous talk.”

“There is danger in the air. Mademoiselle. Coming so recently from England, you do not know of these matters. It must have been very different there. Did you live in the country?”

Yes. “And you have left your family … your friends .,. to be with your cousin?”

“Yes, yes. She needed someone with her.”

Madame Gremond nodded sympathetically. I felt she was trying to probe so I rose quickly.

“I must go to Madame Ie Brun. She will be wondering what has become of me.”

In her room Margot was lying on her bed and Jeanne was folding up baby garments which Margot clearly had been showing her.

Margot was saying: “Everywhere Pierre went there was Chon-Chon. Pierre would stride out with his gun and the dog at his heels. It was a large estate. One of the largest in the country,” “It must have belonged to a, very rich gentleman.”

“Very rich. Pierre was his right-hand man.”

A Duke, Madame? A Count? ” I said: ” Hello, how are you? “

Ah, my dear cousin, how I have missed you! I took the baby garments from Jeanne and put them in a drawer. Thank you, Jeanne,” I said and nodded, implying that I wished her to leave us. She curtsied and went out, ” You talk too much, Margot,” I said.

What am I to do? Sit and mope? “

You will say something you should not. “

I had a feeling then that someone was behind the door, listening. I went to it swiftly and opened it. No one was there but I fancied I heard the sound of running footsteps. I was sure Jeanne had intended to listen. I felt very uneasy.

What I had seen that afternoon in the town had set alarm bells ringing through my mind. The trouble in the country did not affect our private one. Yet the apprehension continued.

Margo's time was getting near. The baby was due at the end of August and it was now July. Madame Legere, the midwife had been sent for.

She was a cosy-looking woman like a cottage loaf in: shape, dressed in deep black the colour favoured by most of the women which somehow made her cheeks look,” rosier than they actually were. She had keen dark eyes and a faint line of hair about her mouth.

She declared Margot in a good state, carrying the baby just as she should.

“It’ll be a boy,” she said and added: “Like as not. I’m promising nothing. It’s just the way you’re carrying it.”

She called once a week and confided to me that she knew my cousin was a very special lady, by which I gathered that she had been paid rather more than she usually was to attend to her.

I felt then that a mystery was being created about us and I supposed that was inevitable. I was growing increasingly aware of the curious looks.

I did not mention that afternoon’s incident to Margot. I thought it better for her not to know. I remembered how hurriedly her father had left England on the night of the soiree. Since then I had learned something about that cause celebre, Queen Marie Antoinette’s necklace, that fabulous piece of jewellery made up of the finest diamonds in the world. I knew that Cardinal de Rohan, who had been duped into thinking that if he helped Marie Antoinette to procure the necklace she would become his mistress, had been arrested and then acquitted and that his acquittal was an implication that the Queen was guilty.

I had heard the Queen discussed slightingly everywhere in France. She was contemptuously called the Austrian Woman, and the country’s troubles were blamed on hen I did not need to be told that the affair of the necklace had not added one jot to the peace of the country. In fact it was almost like a match to dry wood.

It was a strange life. Tensions in the streets as I had seen when the carriage had rumbled past, and Margot and I living our strange shut-away lives during these months while we awaited the birth of her child.

Once when we were sitting in the garden she said: “Sometimes, Minelle, I can’t think beyond this place … and the baby’s coming. After that we are going to my home. It will either be to the country chateau or the hotel in Paris. I shall be light and willowy again. The baby will be gone. It will be as though this never happened.”

It can never be like that,” I said.

“We shall always remember. Particularly you. “

“I shall see my baby sometimes, Minelle. We must visit bin … you and I.”

“It will be forbidden, I am sure.”

Oh, it will be forbidden. My father said, “When the child-< is born, it will be given into the care of some good people I shall arrange that and you will never see it again. You will have to forget this ever happened. Never speak of it, but a the same time regard it as a lesson. Never let this happen again.”

He has gone to a great deal of trouble to help you. “

“Not to save me but to save my name from dishonour. I makes me laugh sometimes. I am not the only member o:

the family to have a bastard child. One does not have to loo! very far for others. “

“You must be sensible, Margot. What your father plans i without doubt best for you.”

“And never see my child again!”

“You should have thought of that before …”

“What do you know of these matters? Do you think that when you are in love, when someone has his arms about you you think about a nonexistent child!”

“I should have thought the possibility of that nonexist en child’s actually existing might have occurred to you.”

“Wait, Minelle, wait until you are in love.”

I made an impatient movement and she laughed. Then she moved awkwardly in her chair and went on: “It’s peaceful here. Do you find it so? It will be different at the chateau and in Paris. My father has the most luxurious residences They contain many treasures; but being here with you realize they lack the best thing of all. Peace.”

“Peace of mind,” I agreed.

“It is what wise people al way wish for.

Tell me about your life in your father’s mansions, “I have rarely been in Paris. When they went there I was often left in the country and spent most of my life then The chateau was built in the thirteenth century. The great tower the keep is what you see first. In the old days they used to be a ” Watch” in the tower which meant that there was always a man there and it was his duty to give was mine when an enemy approached. Even now we have a man ther and he gives a warning when guests are arriving by ringing a bell. It is one of the musicians and to pass the time he sings and composes songs. At night he descends and often sings for us those chansons de guettes, which you will know, of course, are watchman’s songs. It’s an old custom and my father clings to old customs as much as possible. I sometimes think he was born too late. He hates this new attitude of the people which we are beginning to see springing up everywhere. He says the serfs are becoming insolent to their masters.”

I was silent thinking of the recent incident in the town.

Quite a number of castles are of a much later date than ours,” went on Margot.

“Francois Premier built the chateaux of the Loire a good two hundred years after ours was set up. Of course ours has been restored and added to. There is the great staircase which is as old as any part of the building. This leads up to the part of the castle which we occupy. Right at the top of the staircase is a platform. Years ago the lords of the castle used to administer justice from the platform. My father still uses it, and if there is a dispute among any of the people on the estate they are summoned to the platform and my father passes judgement. It is exactly as it used to be done. At the foot of the staircase is a great courtyard and it is there they used to joust and tilt. Now we hold plays there in the summer and if there is a festival or something of that nature it takes place there. Oh, talking of it brings it all back so clearly and, Minelle, I’m frightened. I’m frightened of what is going to happen when we leave here.”

“We’ll face it when it comes,” I said.

“Tell me about the people who live in the castle.”

“My parents you know. Poor Maman is very often ill or pretends to be.

My father hates illness. He doesn’t believe in it. He thinks it’s something people fancy. Poor Maman is very unhappy. It is something to do with having me instead of a boy and then not being able to have any more. “

“It must have been a disappointment to a man like the Comte not to have a son.”

“Isn’t it maddening, Minelle, the way they want boys … always boys. In our country a girl cannot come to the throne. You in England don’t go as far as that.”

No, as I have always taught you, two of the greatest periods of English history were when queens were on the throne. Elizabeth and Anne. “

“Yes, it’s one of the few things I remember from your history lessons.

You always looked so fierce when you said that. Waving the flag for our sex. “

“Of course both of them were blessed with clever ministers.”

“Well, do you want to give a history lesson or hear about my family?”

I shall be interested to hear about your family. ” :

“I have told you about my father and mother and you know how ill-assorted they are. It was an arranged marriage when my mother was sixteen and my father seventeen. They saw very little of each other before the wedding. That’s how things are arranged in families like ours, and it was considered a most suitable match. Of course it was as unsuitable as it possibly could be. Poor Maman! She is the one I am sorry for. My father would naturally find consolation else-” J where. ” , ” And that is what he did? “

“Naturally. He had had his adventures before marriage. I;

wonder why he can be so shocked over me. Not that he really was. As I said, it wasn’t what I had done but that I i had been found out. It’s all right for serving girls and members of the lower classes generally to have a bastard, or two (in fact it is often their duty if the lord of the castle takes a fancy to them) but not, oh certainly not, for the daughter of the great family. So you see there is one law for the rich and one for the poor and this time it works against us. “

“Be serious, Margot. I want to learn something about the people at the castle before I go there. ” ” Very well. I’m leading up to that. I was going to tell you, about Etienne-the crop of my father’s earliest wild oat; Etienne lives at the chateau. He is my father’s son. “

“I thought you said there was no son.”

“Minelle, you are being obtuse. He is my father’s illegitimate son. Papa was only sixteen when Etienne was born.

How hej can dare Sit in judgement on me I don’t know. Not only is!

there one law for the rich and one for the poor, but one for men and one for women. I was born a year after my parent’s marriage. My mother suffered terribly and nearly died. However, both she and I managed to survive the ordeal of my getting born but the result was that to have another child would endanger her life. So there was my father-who had had everything he wanted in life up to that time-at the age of eighteen, head of a noble house, faced with the fact that he would never have a son. And of course what every man wants especially one who has a great name to preserve -is a son, and not only one, for he must be doubly sure. “

That must have been a great blow. “

“It was not as though he loved my mother. I always thought that if she had stood up to him a little he might have thought more of her. She never did, though. She always avoided him and they saw very little of each other. She spends most of her time in her rooms waited on by NouNou, her old nurse, who defends her like a dragon breathing fire, and even daring to stand up to Papa. But I must tell you about Etienne.”

Yes, do tell me about Etienne. “

Naturally I wasn’t there at the time but I have heard servants talk.

It was considered amusing that my father should have shown his virility at such an early age. Etienne came into the world to a flourish of trumpets metaphorically speaking-and has had a very high opinion of himself ever since. He is cast in the same mould as my father-which is not surprising since he is his son. Well, when it was known that my father could have no more children and the hopes of a legitimate son were no more, my father brought Etienne to the chateau and he was treated like a legitimate son. He has been educated as such and is often with my father. Everyone knows that he is a bastard and that infuriates him, but he hopes to inherit the estates if not the title. He can be very moody and has outbursts of temper which terrify people. If my mother died and my father married again I don’t know what Etienne would do. “

I can see how unfair he would consider that. “

“Poor Etienne! He is my father all over again … but not quite. You know how it is with people who are not quite what they wish to be. Etienne flaunts his nobility, if you know what I mean. I have seen him whip a young boy who called him the Bastard. But he is very attractive. The girls in the servants’ quarters will verify that. Etienne is a Count in a ways except that his mother was not married to his father and he is so determined that no one shall remember that that he can’t forget it himself. Oh and then … Leon.”

“Another man?”

“Leon’s case is very different. Leon has no need to whip sma boys. He is no bastard. He was born in holy wedlock. H parents were peasants and it would be no use his trying t pretend otherwise, even if he wanted to, for everyone know it. Leon, though, has received the same education as Etienn and no one would guess he was the son of peasants if the did not know it. Leon therefore has an air of nobility which sits easily on him and he would laugh if anyone called nil Peasant. To see Leon in his fine velvet jacket and buck ski breeches you would say he was an aristocrat. Which prove of course, that where a man is brought up can have fa more effect on him than who his parents were. “

I have always been inclined to believe that. But tell m more of Leon. Why is he at the chateau?

“It is rather a romantic story. He came to the chateau when he was six. I was too young to remember. Actually it was soon after I was born and my father had just realized that m mother could have no more children. He was very angry . bitter against a fate which had married him to a woman will had become barren after the birth of her first child . daughter . and then had had the temerity to go on living “Margot!”

“Dear Minelle, are we speaking the truth or not? If m mother had died when I was born my father would have married again after a suitable interval and I might have had numerous half-sisters and what is all-important, brothers Then my little peccadillo might not have been so important But Maman went on living … most inconsiderate of the . and Papa was a prisoner of a kind … caught by a crue fate, trapped, married to a woman who could be of no use ti him.”

This is no way to talk of your parents. “

“Very well. I will tell you they are devoted to each other. He never leaves her side. All his thoughts are for her. I that what you want?”

“Don’t be silly, Margot. Naturally I want the truth, bu tempered with respect.”

“How amusing you are I It is not a matter of respect but to tell you how things stand. That’s what you asked for, did you not? Do you want to hear or don’t you?”

“I want to know as much as possible about the chateau before I go there.”

“Then don’t expect to hear fairy tales. My father is no charming prince, I do assure you. When he knew that he was saddled with a barren wife he was so angry that he took his horse and rode it till it dropped with exhaustion. Riding madly like that seemed to be the way he gave an outlet to his fury. The household was glad to get him out of the way for woe betide any of them who angered him. The people used to call him the Devil on Horseback and when they saw him kept out of the way.”

I was startled because that was the name I had given him when I had first seen him. It fitted him absolutely.

“Sometimes,” went on Margot, “Papa travelled in his cabriolet which he drove himself using the most spirited horses in his stables. This was more dangerous than when he rode his horse, and one day he was riding in this wild and reckless fashion through the village of Lapine, which was about ten kilos from the chateau, when he ran over a child and killed it.”

“How dreadful!”

“I think he was sorry.”

“I should hope he was.”

It brought him to his senses, I think. But let me tell you about Leon. He is the twin brother of the boy who was killed. The mother was nearly demented. She so far forgot what she owed her overlord that she came to the castle and tried to stab him. He overpowered her easily.

He could have had her executed for attempted murder but he didn’t. “

“How good of him!” I said with sarcasm.

“I suppose he realized that she was merely attempting to do to him what he did to her child.”

“Exactly. However, he talked to her. He told her he deeply regretted his action and he understood her desire for revenge. He would try to atone. The dead boy had a twin brother. And she had … how many children was it? I forget. About ten. He would recompense her for the loss of the child by giving her a purse which would be commensurate with what her ;

would have earned for her had he lived for sixty years. T was not all.

He would take the boy’s twin and he should brought up in the chateau as a member of the household. This the terrible accident could be turned into a stroke of go fortune for the family. “

I don’t see how anything could make up for the loss the child. “

You do not know these peasants. Their children mean much money to them. They have so many that they ci spare one without too much regret. particularly when I loss is going to bring great rewards. “

I am unconvinced. “

“Then, dear Minelle, you must remain so. The fact is this besides Etienne the Bastard we have Leon the Peasant, acfl let me tell you this: If I had not explained the situation you would never have guessed the origins of either.”

“It is an unusual household.”

That made Margot laugh.

“Until I came to England and I the orderly manners of Derringham Hall and how that whitj is unpleasant is never mentioned and therefore presumed n<r to exist … until I had a peep into your schoolhouse where life seemed so simple and so easy, I did not understand what an unusual household I had come from.”

“You saw only the surface. We all have our problems. l that easy-to-live-in schoolhouse there was often the question of whether we should be able to pay our way and that question became acute during my last weeks there.”

“I know, and to that very state of affairs perhaps I owe void presence here, so does it not show that there is always goof in everything that happens? If the school had been flourishing you would not have left it and I should be alone. But f< my father’s youthful indiscretion Etienne would not be the chateau and if he had not ridden in fury through Lap Leon would have been trying to grub a living out of earth and often going to bed hungry. Isn’t that a com for thought?”

“Your philosophy is a lesson to us all, Margot.” I pleased to see her in such good spirits, but talking of chateau had tired her and I insisted that she drink her time milk and talk no more that night.

II

At the beginning of August Madame Legere moved in. She occupied a small room close to Margot’s and her coming reminded both Margot and me vividly that the interlude was nearing its end. I think neither of us wanted it to be over. This was a strange feeling but these waiting months had been important to us both. We had, as was to be expected, grown closer together; and I think she was pleased, as I was, that when this was over we were not going to part. How she would react to giving up her baby I could not imagine, for as its birth became imminent she had taken a great interest in it and I was afraid was beginning to be stirred by maternal love. It was natural enough, but since she was to give up the child, rather sad.

During those waiting months I had looked back over the past and yearned to be able to talk of the future with my mother. When I contemplated what my life would have been if I had stayed in the schoolhouse I could feel no regret for what I had done. I could see myself becoming more and more uneasy and perhaps in desperation turning to the Mansers and marrying Jim. At the same time I felt I had plunged into a dark passage and was heading towards a future which I could not envisage. Adventure lay before me-the chateau, the Comte and his unusual household. I could only look forward to that with a tingling excitement while I was glad of the waiting period.

Madame Legere had taken Margot over completely. She was always with her and even when we endeavoured to be alone for a brief respite it would not be long before the plump little creature would come bustling in wanting to know what “Petit Maman was doing.

“Petit Maman’ was amused at first by the appellation but after a few days she declared she would scream if Madame Legere did not stop it.

But Madame Legere went her own way. She made it clear that she was in charge, for if she were not how could we be sure that Baby would make an easy entrance into the world and “Petit Maman’ come through without disaster?

It was obvious that we had to endure Madame Legere.

She liked a glass of brandy and kept a bottle handy. I;l suspected she had frequent nips, but as she was never the, worse for it, that seemed nothing to worry about. “If I had as many bottles of brandy as I’ve brought babies into the world,” she said, “I’d be a rich woman.”

“Or a wine merchant or a dipsomaniac,” I could not help adding, ‘y She was unsure of me. I had heard her refer to me as The English Cousin’ as though I were an enemy. I would sit in my room sometimes trying to read but l could always hear Madame Legere’s penetrating voice, ant having by this time grown accustomed to the accent of the neighbourhood I could follow conversations with ease. g Jeanne was always in attendance and she and Madam Legere vied with each other in talking, although Madame Legere was very often the winner, in view, I imagined, of her superior position in the household. I told Margot that she should send them away but she said their chatter amuse<U her. lilt was a hot afternoon. August was drawing near to its end. It could not be long now. I was constantly trying to? remember what had been happening this time last year. Now started to imagine what would be taking place a year hence. Hazy pictures filled my mind . the great chateau, the wid stone staircase leading to the family’s apartments, the housed hold, Margot, Etienne, Leon, the Comte. I I was pulled up sharply in my reverie by tfae rather shrill tones of Madame Legere. U “I’ve had some queer cases in my time. There’s some, you know, that’s quite secret. Ladies and gentlemen … ha! hajig Don’t tell me they’re all they’re made out to be. They’re fond of a bit of love, now and then … and not always in the righ’ quarters, I can tell you. All’s well and good as long as there’ no consequences. But should I complain of consequences? It’s these little consequences that make good business for me, bless ‘em. And the more scandalous the better the business. I” been paid very well for some of my jobs, I can tell you. had one lady once … oh, very important she was … but wrapped up in secret. I wouldn’t like to tell you who she but I can guess.”

“Oh Madame Legere,” squealed Jeanne.

“Do tell.”

“If I was to tell I’d be breaking my trust, wouldn’t I? It was to keep secrets that I got my little nest-egg together … as well as for bringing the little darlings into the world. It wasn’t an easy birth, that one … not the sort I like. But of course I was there and I used to say to her: ” You’ll be all right. Petit Maman, with old Legere beside you. ” That was a comfort to her, that was. Well, when the baby was born, a carriage comes and there’s a woman in it who takes the child. Poor Petit Maman, she nearly died. Would have, if I hadn’t been there to take care of her. Then I had my orders. Tell her the baby died, and that was what she was told. She was heartbroken, but I reckon it was better that way.”

“And what happened to the baby?” asked Margot.

“You needn’t have any fear about that. It was well cared for, you can be sure. There was money, you see. Lots of it. And all they wanted was for Petit Maman to be sent back to them, slender as a virgin, which was what she would have to pass herself off to be.”

“Did she believe the baby was dead?” asked Jeanne.

“She believed it. I reckon she’s a great lady now, married to a rich lord of a husband, with lots of children running about the grand house only she wouldn’t see much of them. They’d be with nurses.”

“It doesn’t seem right,” said Jeanne.

“Of course it’s not right but it’s what is. ” But I would like to know what happened to the baby,” put in Margot.

“You set your mind at rest on that,” replied Madame Legere soothingly.

“Babies born like this are always put in good households. After all, they’ve got this blue blood in them and these aristocrats think a lot of that sort of blood.”

“Their blood’s no different from ours,” said Jeanne.

“My Gaston says that one day the people will have proof of that.”

“You’d better not let Madame Gremond hear you talk like that,” warned Madame Legere.

“Oh no. She thinks she’s one of them. But the time will come when she will have to show whose side she’s on.”

“What’s the matter with you, Jeanne?” asked Margot.

“You’re getting fierce.”

“Oh, she has been listening to Gaston, that’s what. Te Gaston he’d better be careful. People who talk too much might find themselves in trouble. What’s wrong with aristocrat crats? They have bonny babies. Some of my best babies were aristocrats. I remember once. ”

I had lost interest. I could not stop thinking of the story of the baby which had been born to the aristocratic lady and taken away at birth. I wondered how much she knew of this case. She was certainly probing. And how much had she guessed? Then there were Jeanne’s comments to ponder on. It seemed the theme of life here was one of rumbling discontent.

III

It was about a week after that when I was awakened noises in the adjoining room. I could hear Madame Lege giving orders to Jeanne.

Margot’s child was about to be born.

Her labour was neither long nor arduous. She was we: lucky in that and by mid-morning her son was born.

I went to see her soon afterwards. She was lying back bed very sleepy, exhausted, yet in a way triumphant, looking very young.

The baby was wrapped up in red flannel and lying i cot.

It’s over, Minelle,” said Margot wanly.

“It’s a boy .. lovely boy.”

I nodded, feeling too moved to speak.

“Petit Maman should rest now,” said Madame Legere. “. got some beautiful broth for her when she awakes … sleep first.”

Margot closed her eyes. I was very uneasy, wondering t she would feel when the tune came to part with the baby as she surely must.

Jeanne followed me into my room.

“You’ll be going away soon now. Mademoiselle,” she I nodded. I always felt I must beware of those inquisitive eyes.

“Will you be staying with Madame and the baby?”

“For a while,” I replied shortly.

He’ll be such a comfort to her, that little one. After all she’s gone through. Has she got a mother and father? “

I wanted to say that I had no time to talk but I was a little afraid of appearing abrupt which might arouse suspicion.

“Oh yes, she has.”

“You’d have thought…”

“Thought what?”

“You’d have thought they’d have wanted her to go to them.”

“We wanted to get her right away,” I said.

“Now, Jeanne, I have things to do.”

“She mentioned them once … It sort of slipped out It seemed she was a bit afraid of her father, like. He seemed a very fine gentleman.”

“I am sure you have given yourself the wrong impression.”

I went into my room and shut the door, but as I had turned away from her I had caught the fleeting expression on her face-the downward turn of the lips, something which was almost a smirk.

She suspected something and, like Madame Legere, was eager to probe.

Margot had been indiscreet. She had gossiped too freely. When I considered our coming here, it did seem rather odd. Of course it would have been natural for a young widow to go to her parents to have her child and not come to some remote spot with a cousin who was not even of her own nationality.

Well, we should soon be on our way. But I did wonder what Margot was going to do when the time came for her to part with her baby.

Two weeks passed. Madame Legere stayed with us. Margot would not allow her baby to be swaddled and she loved to wash him and care for him herself. She said she would call him Charles and he became Chariot.

“I have named him after my father,” she said.

“He is Charles Auguste Fontaine Delibes. Little Chariot has a lot of his grandfather in him.”

“I fail to see it,” I replied.

“Oh, but you do not know my father very well, do you?

He is a man it is not easy to understand. I wonder if little Chariot will grow up like him. It will be fun to see . “

She stopped and her face puckered. I knew that she refused to believe that her baby was going to be taken right away from her.

I was young and inexperienced and I did not know how to treat her.

Sometimes I let her run on as though she would keep the baby and we should stay here forever.

I knew what was going to happen. Before long the man and woman who had brought us here would arrive to take us away. Then after a journey, the baby would be delivered to its foster parents and Margot and I would continue our journey to the chateau.

Sometimes I felt impelled to remind her of this. “I shan’t lose him completely,” she cried.

“I shall go back to him.

How could I leave my little Chariot? I must be sure that the people who have him love him, mustn’t I? ” , I would try to soothe her but I dreaded the day when the parting must come. , I sensed the tension in the house. Everyone was waiting for the day we should leave. It did not make it easy that we j ourselves were unsure. When I went into the town, shopkeepers asked after Madame]the poor little one who had tragically lost her husband.;

But now she had her baby to comfort her. And a boy! They knew that was exactly what she had wanted. I wondered how much they knew of us. I had seen Jeanne gossiping in shops now and then. We were the talk of the little town and again it occurred to me that the Comte had made an error of judgement in sending us to such a small place where the coming of two women like ourselves was a major event. ?

During the first week of September our guardians arrived. ” We were to prepare to leave the following day. ‘ It was over. The carriage was outside our door. Monsieur! and Madame Bellegarde - another cousin and his wife-were! to take us home. That was the story, j ” Such good kind cousins you have, Madame,” said Madam Legere.

“They will take you home and how his grandparents will love little Chariot!” They stood grouped at the door of the house-Madame Gremond, Madame Legere, with Jeanne and Emilie standing behind them.

That group made an indelible mark on my memory and often during the months to come I could see them in my mind’s eyes, just as they were then.

Margot held the baby and I could see that the tears were slowly running down her cheeks.

“I can’t let him go, Minelle, I can’t,” she whispered.

But of course she must, and in her heart she knew it.

We stayed the first night at an inn. Margot and I shared a room and we had the baby with us. We scarcely slept at all. Margot talked for most of the night.

She had the wildest ideas. She wanted us to run away and keep the baby. I went along with her, to soothe her, but in the morning I spoke to her sensibly and told her to stop romancing.

“If you had not wanted to part with your baby you should have waited until you were married before you had one.”

There could never be another like my little Chariot,” she cried.

She really did love her baby. How much? I wondered. Her emotions were ephemeral, but none the less she did feel deeply at the time, and I supposed that never had she been so involved with another human being as she was with her child.

I was glad of the cool aloof manner of the Bellegardes - servants of the Comte. They had been sent to do a job and they were going to do it.

Margot said to me: “I shall see Chariot’s foster parents and I shall come back and see Chariot. How can they think anything would keep me away from my baby!”

But the separation had been subtly arranged.

We had come to an inn on the previous night and tired by the long day’s travelling we retired early to bed and were asleep almost immediately.

When we awoke in the morning. Chariot had disappeared.

Margot looked blank and helpless. She had not imagined it would be like that.

She went to the Bellegardes, who told her gently that the child’s foster parents had come to the inn last night and taken him away. She need have no fear for him. He had gone to a very good home and would be well cared for throughout his life. Now we must leave. The Comte was expecting us to arrive at the chateau within the next few days.

AT THE CHATEAU SILVAINE

I

Margot was stunned. When I spoke to her she did not answer. I knew that nothing I said could comfort her so I remained silent.

As we passed through the country I knew that she was making mental notes of the places, promising herself that she would come back and find Chariot.

Poor Margot, this was the first time she realized that what had happened was not some sort of high adventure. It had had its terrifying moments, of course, such as when she had discovered she was going to have a child, but even then the excitement had carried her along. Now the abject misery of losing her child enveloped her and she knew what real unhappiness meant.

I shall never forget my first sight of the Chateau Silvaine. It was built on a slight eminence, and its lofty tower could be seen from several miles away. A great fortress with pepper-pot-shaped towers at its four corners and in the centre the great watch tower, it looked formidable, menacing which was what I supposed it was meant to be, for in the thirteenth century it would have been a fortress rather than a home.

As we approached its magnificence increased.

We must have been observed by the minstrel in the watch tower for the grooms were waiting for us as we came into the precincts of the castle.

We were in a big nagged courtyard and ahead of us rose] the grey marble staircase of which Margot had told me. ,j Margot said: “Good day’ to the grooms and one replied:’ ” Welcome back to the chateau. Mademoiselle. I am happy to” see you.”

Thank you, Jacques,” she said. Is my father expecting us oh yes. Mademoiselle, he has given orders that as n as you and the English Mademoiselle arrive you are to go to the red salon and he is to be told of your arrival. “

Margot nodded.

“This is my English cousin. Mademoiselle Maddox.”

“Mademoiselle,” murmured Jacques, bowing.

I inclined my head in acknowledgement and Margot said:

“We should go at once to the red salon. Then we can go to our rooms.”

“Would it not be better to wash and change,” I suggested.

“We are rather dusty from the journey,” “He said to the red salon first,” replied Margot; and I realized, of course, that his word was law.

“We won’t mount the great staircase,” said Margot.

“That is one way to that part of the castle which we use, but there is another. It was the only approach in medieval days, but much of the castle has been altered to provide greater comfort and we can go this way.”

“Monsieur, Madame,” said Jacques to the Bellegardes, you will step this way. ” Margot led me across the courtyard to a door which we went through.

We were in a hall not unlike that at Derringham Manor, but the furniture here was more elaborate and although gilded and intricately decorated gave an impression of delicacy.

There was a beautifully-curved staircase leading from the hall and Margot and I ascended this. We went along a corridor and she opened a door. This was the red salon. I had never seen such beautiful furnishings and it was elegant in the extreme. The curtains were of red silk edged with gold. There were two or three sofas and several gilded chairs. I particularly noticed a cabinet containing glass goblets and decanters. The only thing the room lacked was comfort.

Everything in it seemed either too elaborate or fragile to have been put there for use.

I was very conscious of my travel-stained appearance and thought it typical of the Comte not to give us a chance to make ourselves fit for the meeting. I had already started to feel antagonistic towards him and I was sure that he had acted in this way to make us feel at a disadvantage.

When he came in my heart started to beat fast in spite of my inward resolve not to be browbeaten. He was plainly dressed but everything he wore proclaimed that it was of the best. The wool jacket was perfectly cut, the buttons certainly pure gold; the lace at his wrists and throat dazzlingly white.

He stood, legs apart, arms folded behind his back, looking from one to the other of us, a faint smile of satisfaction settling on his lips.

“So … our little affaire is over,” he said.

Margot curtsied while he looked at her half amused, half impatient.

Then his eyes were on me.

“Mademoiselle Maddox, this is a pleasure.”

I inclined my head.

“I have to thank you,” he said, ‘for helping us out of this unfortunate contretemps. I believe it has been conducted as well as we could have hoped. “

“I trust so,” I said.

Tray be seated. You too. Marguerite. “

He indicated two chairs and himself took a chair by the window-his back to it so that his face was in shadow and the light fell full on us. I was immediately aware of my less than immaculate appearance.

“Now let us talk of what lies ahead. That little matter is over and we shall never speak of it again. It is as though it never happened.

Mademoiselle Maddox is on a visit to us. I think she might remain a distant cousin. We discovered the connection when I was in England.

Marguerite has been indisposed and her English cousin had just lost her mother. They comforted each other and out of the goodness of her heart. Mademoiselle Maddox agreed to accompany Marguerite on a little vacation. They” have been resting for a month or two in a quiet village in the south and they are employing their time teaching each other the other’s language, It will be seen how successfully.

Mademoiselle, I complement you on your grasp of our tongue. If I may say so your accent and intonation nave improved since we last met.

You grammar of course was always impeccable but while man can write our language, few can speak. You are an exception!

Thank you,” I said. ” And since you are my cousin although such a distant one! think it inappropriate for me to call you Mademoiselle Maddox. I shall call you Cousin Minelle and you shall call me Cousin Charles. Why, you look horrified! “

“I shall find it difficult,” I said with some embarrassment.

“Such a little matter! I had the impression that you were a woman of great resource, capable of mastering the most difficult obstacles and you balk at a name!”

I merely find it difficult to regard myself as related to-‘ I waved a hand and finished: ‘such grandeur. “

“I am enchanted that you see it as such. Then you will be happy to be part of a family such as ours.”

“I have such a spurious claim.”

“But one which is freely given by me.” He rose and came towards us.

Then, placing his hands on my shoulders, he kissed me solemnly on the brow.

“Cousin Minelle,” he said, “I welcome you into the bosom of the family.”

I flushed uneasily, aware of Margot regarding me in some astonishment.

He resumed his seat.

“Sealed and settled,” he said.

“The kiss of welcome-as binding as my seal on a document. We are grateful to you, Cousin, are we not.

Marguerite? “

“I don’t know what I should have done without Minelle,” she answered fervently.

“So …” He gesticulated.

“We shall entertain here in the chateau,” he went on, ‘and as my cousin you will join with us. “

“I had not expected that,” I replied.

“I shall not really be equipped to join such company.”

“Equipped, dear Cousin? Do you mean mentally or sartorially?”

I certainly did not mean mentally,” I retorted tartly.

“I was teasing, for I did not for one moment think you did. Oh, this tiresome matter of clothing ourselves! We have dressmakers in the castle. Ill swear. Cousin, that you have a good sense of dress. I can picture you’ again that gesture’ most excellently garbed. So you see there is nothing more to be settled.”

“I think there is a great deal,” I protested. I came here to act as Margot’s companion while she needed me. I thought I was to be employed”

“You are employed. But as a cousin instead of a companion.”

A sort of poor relation? “

That sounds sad. A relation, yes, and perhaps not so well endowed with riches as some of us . but we shall all be too well-mannered to remind you of that. “

Margot who had been quietly listening to this conversation suddenly burst out: “I must see Chariot some time.”

“Chariot?” said the Comte coldly.

“And who might Chariot be?”

“He is my baby,” said Margot quickly.

The Comte’s face hardened. Now he looked cruel. Le Diable indeed, I thought. “Have I not made it clear that that matter is over and not to be mentioned again?”

“Do you think I can stop thinking of my little baby?”

“You can certainly stop talking of it.”

“You say It. (… as though he is a … thing … nothing of importance, to be pushed aside because he has caused. inconvenience.”

“It-or he as you prefer to call it-has done just that.”

“Not to me. I want him. I love him.”

He looked from Margot to me, his expression one of exasperation.

“Perhaps I have been premature in congratulating you on the manner in which this unfortunate affair has been conducted.”

“I must see him sometimes,” said Margot sullenly. “Did you not hear me say that the matter is ended?J Cousin Minelle, take Marguerite to her room. She will show you yours. I believe they have put you next to her. I wish to hear no more of this folly.”

“Papa.” She ran to him and caught his hand. He threw he. off impatiently.

“Did you not hear me? Go. Take your cousin and show her her room and get over your foolishness out of my sight.

In that moment I hated him. He had brought his owl illegitimate son into his household but he had no sympathy for poor Margot. I went to her and put my arm about he “Come, Margot,” I said, ‘we will go and rest. We are tire from our journey. “

“Chariot…” she murmured.

“Chariot is in good hands, Margot,” I said gently.

“Cousin Minelle,” said the Comte, “I have given orders the child’s name is not to be mentioned. Pray remember that.”

Suddenly my feelings were too much for me. I was tired from the journey and he had begun by making me feel at a disadvantage by not allowing me to wash and change; and coming face to face with him and seeing him even more overpowering, even more menacing than he had been in my thoughts, was too much for me.

I burst out: “Have you no human feelings! This is a mother. She has recently borne a child who has been snatched from her.”

“Snatched! I did not know it had been snatched. My orders were that it should be quietly taken.”

“You know very well what I mean.”

“Oh,” he said, ‘melodrama! Snatched sounds so much more effective than quietly taken. You make it sound as though there had been a tug of war over this . bastard. I am surprised at you. Cousin. I had thought the English were restrained. Perhaps I have much to learn of them.”

“You will learn that this one hates cruelty.”

“And would you like to see my daughter’s hopes for the future ended because of a youthful folly? Let me tell you, I have gone to great trouble and expense to extricate her from this absurd affair. I employed you because I thought you were possessed of good sense. I am afraid you will have to let me see a little more of that necessary qualification if you are to remain in my service.”

“I am sure you will find me most unsuitable. In which case I had better leave your employ without delay, for if you expect me to silently stand by and condone your cruelty and injustice, I shall not please you, I assure you.”

“Hasty! Disobedient! Sentimental! None of these is a quality I admire.”

“I did not think I could possibly win your admiration. I shall leave as soon as it is possible. But you must allow me one night’s shelter which in the circumstances you owe me.”

“I agree to your night’s shelter most certainly. How is it that these auras are built round nations? English sang-fro id It is notorious.

What a misrepresentation . unless, of course, you are not typical of your race. “

Margot clung to me crying: “Minelle, you are not going t( leave me. I won’t let you go. Papa, she must stay with me, She turned to me.

“We’ll go away together. We’ll find Chariot, Then she was back to her father, pulling at his sleeve.

“You shall not rob me of my baby. I will not let him go.” He crying had turned to wild laughter and I was alarmed for her.

Then suddenly he struck her across the face.

For a moment there was a tense silence. Time seemed to stand still in the red salon and even the plump half-naked ladies who frolicked on the tapestry seemed to be waiting The Comte broke the silence.

“Cruel, you say,” he said looking at me.

“To strike my daughter! I believe it to be the treatment for this sort of hysteria. See, it has quietened her Go now. Talk to her. Explain to her why it has to happen this way. I rely on you. Cousin Minelle. We shall have mud to say to each other in the next few weeks.”

There was a singing in my ears. He was cancelling our conversation; he was ignoring my threat to leave.

But what I must think of now was Margot.

I took her arm and said: “Come, Margot, let us go. Show me your room and mine.”

She was lying on her bed recovering from the scene. I was ii my room washing in the cool water which I found in what knew to be from my studies a ruelle . a sort of alcove behind curtains where one could wash and dress away from the bedroom.

My bedroom was as elegant as I was sure was every room ii the castle.

The curtains were of a deep blue, as were the bed-hangings on the four-poster bed. An Aubusson carpe was on the floor. The furniture was delicate in the style of the last century when Louis XIV had encouraged such elegance and the influence of this had appeared throughout France.

There was a beautiful dressing-table with gilded cupid on either side of a mirror, holding candles; and a stool with a soft brocade seat pale blue with deep blue velvet stripes. could have revelled in such exquisite surroundings if I ha not felt so apprehensive, and my apprehension was entirely due to the lord of the castle. I had a growing conviction that he had some ulterior motive in bringing me here and this it was dishonourable I had no doubt.

The French were realists. They were far more cynical than we were. In England, of course, men took their mistresses and there were scandals now and then, but these were deplored, or there was a pretence that they were. Hypocrisy in a way; and yet this very quality did produce a more moral society. The Kings of France had taken their mistresses openly and mattresse en titre, the title given to the chief of them, was considered honourable. In England that could never be acceptable.

The present King of France had no mistresses, not because it would be considered wrong for him to take them, but because he had no inclination to do so. Even his flighty and frivolous wife Marie Antoinette took no lovers openly. There were whispers, of course, but who could say whether these were founded on fact or mere rumour? But this was because the King and Queen were different from those who had gone before. Noblemen of France still took mistresses as naturally as wives and none thought the worse of them.

I was well aware that the Comte had a special interest in me and I could see only one reason for it.

How I wished my mother were here. I could imagine her eyes sparkling at the luxury of the chateau, but she would be horrified by the attitude of the Comte and I was sure would whisk me away with all possible speed. I could almost hear her voice coming back to me over the void of our separation: “You must leave, Minella. As soon as you can do so … without panic … leave.”

She is right, I thought. That is what I must do.

If only I could honestly say I was indifferent to him it would be a challenge. I should have enjoyed doing battle with him. But the alarming fact had been brought home to me that I was not. When he had kissed me on the forehead -a cousinly kiss-I had been aware of that excitement. No one else had aroused that in me. I thought of Joel Derringham, pleasant, charming Joel. I had enjoyed being with him; his conversation had been intriguing; he was interested in so many subjects. But there was no excitement there. When he had meekly obeyed his father and gone away, I had not been by any means heartbroken, merely disappointed in him.

And now I was here.

I washed and changed into one of the gowns my mother had ordered from the dressmaker in the hope of making me look a suitable companion for Joel Derringham. It had seemed grand in the schoolhouse. It was scarcely adequate here.

Then I went into Margot’s room.

She was still tying on her bed staring blankly up at the ornate ceiling on which cupids sported.

Oh, Minelle,” she cried, ‘how am I going to bear it?”

“It will grow better as time passes,” I assured her.

“He is so cruel…”

I defended him.

“He is thinking of your future.”

“You know what they will try to do, don’t you? Marry me off to someone. It will be a terrible secret. He will not be told about Chariot.”

“Cheer up, Margot. I am sure that when you have other children you will be reconciled.”

“You talk exactly as they do, Minelle.”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Minelle, don’t go away.”

You heard what your father said. He doesn’t approve of me. “

“I think he quite likes you.”

“But you heard what he said.”

“Yes, but you mustn’t go. Think of me here without you. I wouldn’t stay. Minelle, don’t go. We’ll make plans.”

“What plans?”

“For finding Chariot. We’ll retrace our journey. We’ll search everywhere … until we find him.”

I did not speak. I could see that she needed to indulge in one of her fantasies. For the time being that would provide a crutch for her to lean on . or a rope to drag her out of the slough of misery. Poor Margot! So I bathed her face and helped her to dress while we made plans to go off in search of Chariot-plans which I fe certain would never materialize.

A servant conducted me to the apartments of Madame li Comtesse who had expressed a wish to see me. I found ha lying on a chaise-longue, and I was immediately reminded o the first and only time I had seen her in the same position at Derringham Manor.

Here were the same exquisite furnishings of the previous century with especially delicate colours as though to fit in with the Comtesse’s frail state of health.

She was very pale and very slim; in fact she resembled a china doll and looked as though she might break if roughly handled. Her gown was of clinging chiffon in pale lavender;

her dark hair hung in loose curls about her shoulders and her dark eyes were large and long-lashed. Beside her couch was a table laden with bottles and a glass or two.

As I entered the room, a big woman dressed entirely in black came hurrying towards me. Nou-Nou, I thought. She certainly looked formidable; her amber-coloured eyes reminded me of those of a lioness, and indeed, she gave the impression of one defending her cub-if one could apply such a term to the delicate piece of china on the chaise-longue Nou-Nou’s skin was sallow, her lips tight; I learned later that they could soften in tenderness to the Comtesse and to her only.

You’ll be Mademoiselle Maddox,” she said to me.

“The Comtesse wished to see you. Don’t tire her. She tires easily.” She went to her mistress.

“Here is the young lady,” she said.

A frail hand was held out to me. I took it and bowed over it as seemed to be the custom.

“Bring a chair for my cousin,” she said.

Nou-Nou did so and whispered to me: “Don’t forget. She tires easily.”

“You can leave us now, Nouny dear,” said the Comtesse.

“I was going to. I’ve got things to do, remember.”

She went out, bristling a little, I fancied. I imagined she resented anyone’s taking the attention of her beloved mistress.

“The Comte has told me about the part you have played,” she said.

“I wanted to thank you. He has said you are to be our cousin. “

“Yes,” I answered.

“I was desolate when I heard what had happened to Marguerite.”

“It was a sad affair,” I agreed. , “But it is settled now .. , most satisfactorily, I believe.”

“Not so satisfactory to your daughter. She has lost her child.”

“Poor Marguerite. It was rather wicked of her. I fear’s inherits her father’s nature. I trust she will have no more su adventures. I believe you are here to look after her, I am call you Cousin Minelle and I am to be Cousin Ursule you.”

“Cousin Ursule,” I repeated. It was the first time I had heard her name.

“It will be difficult at first,” she said, ‘but a slip or two w not be important. I am in my room most of the time. You need not worry about Nou-Nou’s hearing. She knows ever thing that happens in the family. She always has. She di approves of this. ” The Comtesse’s lips curved moment at in a smile.

“She would have liked to have a baby here. No Nou loves babies. She would have liked me to have a dozei ” Nurses are like that, I believe.”

“Nou-Nou is. She came with me when I married.” Her face puckered a little as though she were remembering something unpleasant.

“That was many years ago. I have been ill almost ever since.”

The little animation there had been in her face had di appeared. She looked at the table beside her.

“I’ll take a little of the cordial. Will you pour it for me? It tires me even to lift my arm.”

I went to the table and selected the bottle she indicated. She was watching me closely and it occurred to me that she hs asked me to pour the cordial that I might come closer to hi and give her a chance to study me.

“Just a little, please,” she said.

“Nou-Nou makes it. She very clever with her concoctions. They are all made from herbs which she grows. This one contains angelica. It’s goc for headaches. I am tortured by headaches . I am a mart to them. Do you know any good medicines. Cousin Minella any cures?”

“Absolutely none. I have fortunately never had the need them.”

“Nou-Nou has studied them since I became so ill. That was about seventeen years ago …”

She paused and I knew she was referring to the birth. Margot which had robbed her of her good health and strength “Nou-Nou shows me the plants she uses. I always remember her angelica. The old doctors used to call it the Root of to Holy Ghost because it has such healing properties. Do you find that interesting Mademoiselle . Cousin Minelle? “

“Yes. I find all information interesting.”

She nodded.

“Basil is good for headaches. Nou-Nou uses that too. When I need soothing she gives me a dose of it. It has a wonderful effect.

She has a little still-room close by where she uses her herbs. She cooks for me too. ” The Comtesse looked a little furtive as she glanced over her shoulder.

“NouNou will not allow anyone but herself to prepare my meals.”

I wondered what that meant, and for a moment I thought she was hinting that the Comte was trying to be rid of her. Is this conversation meant to convey some warning? I asked myself.

“She is clearly devoted to you,” I said.

“It is good to have someone who is devoted,” she answered. Then she seemed to draw her attention away from her ailments with some difficulty. She said: “You have seen the Comte since you arrived?”

I told her I had.

“Has he mentioned Marguerite’s marriage to you?”

No,” I replied with some alarm.

“He will give her a little time to recover. It will be a good match.

The bridegroom comes from one of the highest families in France. He will have titles and estates one day. “

“Is Marguerite to be told?”

“Not yet. Will you try to reconcile her to it? The Comte says you have influence with her. He will insist on obedience but it would be more comfortable if she could be persuaded that it is for the best.”

“Madame, she has just had a child and has lost him.”

“You must call me Cousin Ursule, by the way. But hasn’t the Comte told you that the matter is to be treated as though it never took place?”

“Yes, Cousin Ursule, but…”

“I think we should remember it. The Comte does not like his wishes to be ignored. Margot must be brought round to this … gradually perhaps but not too gradually. The Comte can be very impatient and he particularly wants to see Marguerite married before long.”

“I do not think it would be wise to broach the subject at this stage.”

She shrugged her shoulders and half closed her eyes. I f< faint,” she said.

“Call NouNou.”

Nou-Nou came immediately. I fancied she had been b far off, listening to our conversation.

She clucked impatiently and looked towards me.

“You’ tired her. There, mignon ne Nouny’s here. I’ll give you little Water of the Queen of Hungary, eh? That never fa to put you right. I made it this morning and it’s beautiful fresh.”

I went back to my room, considering the Comtesse and her devoted Nou-Nou and wondering what other st ran people I should find in this household.

By the evening Margot had recovered a little and she car to my room while I was doing my hair.

“We shall be supping in one of the small dining-room tonight,” she said. There is only the family. My father w anxious for it to be so tonight. “

“I am very glad of that. You know, Margot, I am n equipped for life on such a scale. When I agreed to con here, I thought it was as companion to you. I did not know I was to be raised to the rank of cousin and mingle.”

“Forget it. We shall get some clothes for you in time. What you are wearing is all right for tonight.”

All right! It was the grandest gown I possessed. My moth had been right after all when she had thought I should nei some fine garments.

Margot conducted me to the intimate sane a manger . , small but delightful and as exquisitely furnished as the other rooms I had seen in the house. The Comte was already there and there were two young men with him.

“Ah,” he said, ‘my Cousin Minelle. Is it not great go fortune that my sojourn in England was rewarded with cousin? Etienne, Leon, come and meet my Cousin Minelle The two young men bowed and the Comte took my an His fingers caressed my arm affectionately and reassuringly “This, Cousin, is Etienne. He is my son. Do you see resemblance?”

Etienne seemed to be waiting eagerly for my reply. The! is an undoubted resemblance,” I said, and he smiled at n;

“And this is Leon, whom I adopted when be was six.”

I liked Leon from the first. There was something which appealed to me in those laughing eyes. I only discovered when I saw them in daylight that they were deep blue-almost violet. He had very dark hair, rather crinkly and he wore no wig. He was well but not elaborately dressed.

Different from Etienne, whose coat sported lap is lazuli buttons and who had a diamond or two in his cravat.

“I had thought,” said the Comte, ‘that as this is Cousin Minelle’s first night with us we should sup en famille. Do you think that is a good idea. Cousin? “

I said I thought it was an excellent idea.

And here is Marguerite. You look better, my dear. The holiday has done you some good. Let us be seated. They are ready to serve. Cousin, you here beside me. Marguerite on my other side. “

We sat obediently.

“Now,” said the Comte, we can talk among ourselves. It is rarely that we are without guests. Cousin. But as it is our first evening I thought it would be easier for you to get to know us all. like this.”

I felt I was dreaming. What was the implication? He was treating me like an honoured guest.

“This, my dear Cousin, is one of the most ancient castles in the country,” he told me.

“You can easily lose yourself in the labyrinth of rooms and passages. Is that not so, Etienne, Leon?”

“It is, Monsieur Ie Comte,” said Etienne.

“They have all been here for many years,” explained the Comte, so it does not strike them. “

The servant brought round the highly-spiced food which I did not really care for. In any case I was not hungry.

Leon was regarding me with interest across the table. His smile was warm and I found it comforting. His attitude was different from that of Etienne who, I fancied, was a little suspicious of me. I wondered how much they knew of what had happened. They both seemed colourful personalities to me, I suppose because I already knew of their ‘origins which Margot had explained. Etienne seemed more in awe of the Comte than Leon, about whom there was something bold and carefree.

The Comte talked of the castle, the old part of which was only used on ceremonial occasions.

“One of you must show Cousin Minelle over the castle tomorrow.”

“Certainly,” said Etienne.

“I claim that honour,” put in Leon.

Thank you,” I replied, smiling at him.

Etienne asked questions about England and I answered best I could while the Comte listened attentively.

“You should speak English to our cousin,” he said.

“It would be courteous to do so. Come now, we shall speak in English.”

This curtailed the conversation considerably, for neither Etienne nor Leon had a good command of the language “You are silent, Marguerite,” said the Comte critically. want to see what an adept you have become at our cousin language. “

“Margot can speak English fluently,” I said.

“But with a French accent! Why is it that of all the world our two countries find it most difficult to speak each other language? Can you tell me that?”

“It is the way in which we move our mouths when v speak. The French have developed facial muscles which the English never use and vice versa.”

“I am sure. Cousin, that you have an answer for ever thing.”

“I would say that was true,” said Margot.

“So the gift of speech has been restored to you.”

Margot flushed a little and I asked myself why when was beginning to like the Comte he had to spoil it with son unkind thrust.

“I don’t think she ever lost it,” I said with some as perit “Like most of us, Margot feels less inclined for conversation sometimes than others.”

“You have a champion. Marguerite. You are very luck ” I have always known I was lucky to have Minelle for friend. “

“Very lucky,” said the Comte, looking at me.

Leon asked in halting English where we spent our ho] day.

There was a brief pause, then the Comte told him in French that it was some little place near Cannes.

“About fifteen miles inland,” he added, and I was shocked at the glib manner in which he lied.

“I do not know that part well,” said Leon, ‘but I have passed through it. I wonder if I know the place. ” He turned to me What was the name of it?”

I had not expected to find myself in a difficult position so quickly, but I saw that this could be the first of many.

Before I could have spoken the Comte came to the rescue.

“It was Framercy … was it not. Cousin? I confess I had never heard of it before.”

I did not answer but Etienne said: It must be a small hamlet. “

“There are thousands of such places dotted all over the country,” said the Comte.

“In any case, they had a quiet time, which was what Marguerite needed after her indisposition.”

“It is rare that one can find a peaceful spot in France these days,” said Etienne, dropping back into French.

“In Paris they are talking of nothing but the Deficit.”

“I am sorry,” said the Comte, addressing me, ‘that you have to come to France at a time when the country is in a sad plight. How different it would have been fifteen . twenty years ago. It is astonishing how quickly the clouds can gather. First just a faint shadow on the horizon and the sky starts to grow dark. It has been gradual, but some of us have seen it coming for a long time. Each month it grows a little more menacing. ” He shrugged his shoulders.

“What is France heading for? Who shall say? All we know is that it will come.”

“It could be avoided perhaps,” suggested Etienne.

“If it is not too late,” murmured the Comte.

“I believe it is too late.” Leon’s eyes flashed suddenly.

“There has been too much inefficiency, too much poverty in the country, too many taxes, and high food prices have meant starvation for many.”

“There have always been rich and poor,” the Comte reminded him.

“And now there are some who are saying that it will not always be so.”

“They may say it but what can they do about it?”

“Some of the hotheads think they can do something. They are not only getting together in Paris but throughout the country,”

“A ragged band,” said the Comte.

“A mob … nothing more While the army remained loyal they wouldn’t have a chance. He frowned and turned to me.

“All through the centime;

there has been unrest. We had a great king last century, Louis XIV, the Sun King, the supreme monarch, and none dared question his power.

Under him France led the world. Ii science, in art, in war, none could compare with us. The people did not raise their voices then. Then came his grand son Louis XV . a man of great charm but he did no understand the people. When he was young he was known as Louis the Well Beloved, for he was most handsome. Bu in time his extravagances, his recklessness, his indifference to the will of the people, made him one of the most hat et monarchs France has ever known. There was a time when he dared not ride through Paris and had a road built that he might avoid doing so. It was then that the Monarchy be came insecure. Now we have a good and noble King, bu alas, a weak one. Good men are not always good rulers You will know well. Cousin, that virtue and strength make odd bedfellows. “

“I would question that,” I said.

“Would you deny that th saints, who have died for their religion of ten painfully lack strength to set beside their undoubted virtue?”

There was a moment’s silence at the’ table. Margot was looking worried.

I realized then that it was not usual to interrupt the Comte in his discourse-particularly to contra diet him.

“Fanaticism,” he retorted.

“When they die they believe the are going to glory. What are a few hours of torment be sid an eternity of bliss or whatever they think they are going to? To rule effectively one must be strong and sometime it is necessary to practise expediency which could of fen some moral codes. The essential quality of leadership i strength.”

“I would say justice.”

“My dear Cousin, you have learned your history from books.”

“How, pray, do others learn?”

“Through experience.”

“No one can live long enough. Are we never to judge an act we have not experienced?”

“If we are wise we shall temper our judgement with caution. I was telling you of our King. He is noia. Kingly figure and unfortunately his wife has been of little help to him.”

“Have you heard what they are calling the Queen now?” asked Etienne.

“Madame Deficit.”

“They blame her for the deficit,” said Leon, ‘and perhaps rightly so.

It is said that her dressmakers’ bills are enormous. Her gowns, her hats, her extravagant head adornments, her entertainment at the Petit Trianon, her so-called country life at Le Hameau where she milks the cows in Sevres bowls . are being talked of everywhere. “

“Why should she not have what she wants?” demanded Margot.

“She did not ask to come to France. She was forced to marry Louis. She had never seen him before the marriage.”

“My dear Margot,” the Comte interrupted icily, ‘naturally a daughter of Maria Theresa should think herself honoured to marry a Dauphin of France. She was received here with the utmost respect. The late King was charmed with her. “

“Trust him to be charmed with a pretty young girl,” said Leon.

“We all know what a fancy he had for them … the younger the better. That’s well known through the scandal of the Pare aux Cerfs.”

Etienne said: “Not a suitable subject for the family supper table, Leon.”

The Comte put in: “Our cousin is a woman of the world. She understands such matters.” Again he turned to me.

“Our late King as he grew older had a not unusual partiality for young girls whom his pander was obliged to procure for him. He kept them in a mansion surrounded by a deer park-hence the Pare aux Cerfs.”

“I am not surprised that he ceased to be Louis the Well Beloved,” I said.

“He was a charming man.” The Comte smiled at me challengingly.

“Perhaps my notion of charm is not the same as yours.”

“Dear Cousin, these girls were taken from poverty. It must be so. He could not have taken the daughters of noblemen. They were not forced, nor coerced even. They came of their own free will. Sometimes their parents brought them. Little mi dinettes from the streets of Paris .. girls who had little hope of earning an honest living. Many might have been condemned to lead lewd and evil lives; some might have worked i they could have found work until they died of diseases of th lungs or lost their sight through too close needlework. Then only asset was their beauty … roses somehow growing o a dung heap. They were seen, picked and taught to amuse the King.”

“And when he tired of them?” I asked.

“He was a grateful man. He gave them a handsome dowr the pander found husbands for them and they lived happily ever after. Now, Cousin, my dear advocate of virtue, tell m this: Was it better for those girls to wilt and die on their dung heap or, in exchange for a brief lapse from virtw win for themselves a life of ease and comfort and per hap good works?”

“It depends on what store they set on virtue.”

“You evade the issue. Should they sell their bodies to sweat shop or a royal master?”

“I can only say that it is an evil system which enables yo to pose such a question.”

“It is a system which exists, not only in France.” He looked at me earnestly.

“It is this system against which the people are now murmuring.”

“It will come right,” said Etienne. Turgot and Necker have gone. We shall see what Monsieur Calonne can do for us “Do we bore Mademoiselle Maddox with our politics?” asked Leon.

“Indeed no. I find it interesting. I want to know what i happening.”

“Whatever happens,” said Leon, ‘we shall adjust ourselves That is my feeling. If change is inevitable we must grow accustomed to change.”

“I should not care to see a change which brought the mo into the chateau,” growled Etienne.

Leon shrugged and Etienne said angrily: “It might h easier for you.

You might fit better than some into a peasant hovel. “

There was a silence at the table. The Comte glanced from Etienne to Leon with an expression of amused tolerance on his face. Etienne’s was distorted with anger, Leon’s non chalant.

“Certainly I should,” said Leon easily.

“I remember the days of my extreme youth. I was not unhappy crawling in the mire. I am sure I could revert without a great deal of difficulty. I am fortunate to know two worlds.”

Etienne was silent. I wondered how often there was conflict between these two. It occurred to me that Etienne, so anxious to maintain his relationship with the Comte, was a little resentful of Leon’s intrusion and that Leon, being aware of this, cared little.

The Comte changed the subject, and I realized that he was accustomed to lead the conversation at the table and I wondered whether he liked to stir up such storms and watch the effect they had.

“We shall be giving Cousin Minelle a poor view of our country,” he said.

“Let us talk of those things of which we can be justly proud.

You will, I hope, enjoy Paris, Cousin a great city of culture which I can say without boasting is unequalled in the world. I have a house there. It is called an hotel but that is what we called our great houses in the past, so it is not an hotel in the sense which you would use the word. It has been in the family for nearly three hundred years. Yes, it was built in the reign of Francois Premier when some of the finest architecture in the world was set up in France. You will visit some of our beautiful castles of the Loire, I trust; and we shall enjoy introducing you to Paris. “

He went on to talk about the contrast of life in the country and the great city and so passed the rest of the meal.

I had found the conversation unexpected and I know that my mother would have considered it extremely shocking-not the sort we should have heard at the Derringham table when ladies were present. But it had stimulated me.

After dinner we went to another of the salons and there the Comte drank brandy. He insisted on my trying it. It burned my throat and I was afraid to take more than a few sips, which I knew secretly amused him.

When the ormolu clock struck ten he said that he thought it was time Marguerite was in bed. We must not forget that she was suffering from an indisposition. He wanted her to regain her health as quickly as possible. So we said good night and Margot and I went to our rooms.

Margot said: “Minelle, I don’t know how I am going to bear it. You know what’s going to happen, don’t you? They are going to find a husband for me.”

“Not yet,” I soothed.

“You are too young.”

“Too young. At seventeen one is old enough.”

‘you have proved that, I suppose. “

“It was the way my father looked at me when he was talking about the Queen and the King and how she was brought here to marry. It was a warning, I know.”

“I thought the conversation was a little unusual.”

“You mean risque. All that about the Pare aux Cerfs. It was done with a purpose, I think. My father was telling me that I was no longer an innocent virgin and he wanted no nonsense from me. I would have to do as I was told and it would be for my own good … like those girls in the Pare.”

“Is the conversation always like that when ladies are present?”

Margot was silent and my uneasiness increased.

“Come,” I said, ‘tell me what you are thinking. “

“My father has clearly taken a fancy to you, Minelle.”

“He certainly made a point of welcoming me … and he seems to call me Cousin with relish. But I thought it odd that he should have let the conversation go the way it did.”

“He did it purposely.”

“I wonder why.”

Margot shook her head and I felt a strong desire to be alone with my thoughts, so I said goodnight and went into my own room. The candles had been lighted by the maid and it looker charming in their light. I had never known such luxury. ‘. kept thinking of those girls taken from the mean streets an transported to a place like this. How had they felt?

I sat down at the mirror and took the pins from my had; so that it fell about my shoulders. Candlelight is notoriously flattering and I looked almost beautiful. My eyes were brigl with excitement, which was the more intense because it we tinged with fear;

there was a faint flush under my skin.

I looked over my shoulder at the door. To my relief I saw that there was a key. I went to it at once in order to lock but before I could do so I heard the murmur of voices. S stood, my hand on the key ready to turn it. The footstep passed my door, and I could not resist the temptation to open it slightly and peep through. I saw the backs of Etienne and Leon.

Moreover I heard their words.

“But who is she?” Leon was saying.

“Cousin!” That was Etienne.

“That’s a new idea. She’s the new mistress, I suppose.”

“Somehow I fancy not yet.”

“But she will be … and that before long. It’s a new way … bringing them into the chateau.”

I shut the door and locked it with trembling fingers. Then I went and sat down at the mirror. I stared at my reflection in horror for some moments. Then I said aloud: “You must leave as soon as possible.”

I slept little that night. What I had overheard had shocked me so deeply that I was trying to convince myself that I had misconstrued the men’s meaning. But knowing what I did of the Comte I could see that their conclusions could be logical enough. What should I do? I had burned my boats, having sold the furniture of the schoolhouse and given it up. Quite clearly I should never have left England; I should have realized why the Comte was interested in me. I knew well enough the kind of man he was. Yet when he had suggested I go with Margot the proposition had seemed reasonable. Margot had needed someone to look after her and help her through her ordeal and I seemed to fall naturally into the part. I had believed that when I came to the chateau I should be a companion to her, living as I had heard companions and governesses did in their own quarters somewhere between those of the servants and those of their employers. I had imagined that in a year or so, after Margot married, I should have saved enough money and gained in poise and experience, to return to England, open a school and specialize in teaching French.

Perhaps by that time, I had thought, Joel Derringham would have made a suitable marriage and Sir John and Lady Derringham having realized that what they would think of as that ‘little bit of folly’ was over, would send me pupils.

But the attitude of the Comte and the comments I had overheard, made it very clear that I must get away.

When I heard the house stirring I arose and unlocked my door, and in due course a servant appeared with hot water.

I washed and dressed in the ruelle and then went to Margot’ room.

She looked refreshed and much calmer and because of that I thought it better to come straight to the point.

“Margot,” I said, “I think my position here is somewhat anomalous.”

What? ” she cried.

“I mean it is irregular.”

“What do you mean? What is your position here?”

“That is what I must ascertain. I thought I was coming here to take a position. I am being paid to be your companion and help you through this difficult time and teach you English But I find myself a cousin and treated like a guest.”

“Well, there had to be this. cousin fiction, and I would always treat you as a friend, you know that.”

“But the rest of the household …”

“You mean my father. Oh, he is known to be eccentric It amuses him at the moment to make you a cousin. Tornoi row he might decide you are his daughter’s companion an treat you as such.”

“But I am not prepared to be taken up and set down i this way. You must realize, Margot, that I am not equippe to appear in this sort of society.”

“You’re thinking of clothes. We’ll soon settle that. You ca have some of mine … or new ones. We’ll go to Paris soon I dare say, and there we’ll buy materials.”

“I lack the means to do this.”

They will be charged to the account. That’s how it’s done “For you, yes … and Etienne and Leon perhaps. You are part of the family. I am not. I must go back to England an I want you to understand why.”

Her eyes had grown black with fear.

“Minelle, please, I b( of you don’t leave me. If you go, I’m alone … Can’t yo see?”

“I can’t stay here in this position, Margot. It’s degrading ” I don’t understand you. Explain. “

But I could not bring myself to say: “Your father is planning to make me his mistress.” It sounded so dramatic an absurd, and I might have misconstrued the situation. Thi the two young men had been discussing me was obvious, bi they could have been entirely wrong.

Margot had seized my hands. I was afraid she was going to have another of those hysterical bouts. They frightened me for she really looked wild when they took possession of her.

“Minelle, promise me … promise me … I can’t lose you and Chariot. Besides, we’re going to find him. I never could do without you. Promise me. I won’t let you go until you do.”

“I won’t go without telling you, certainly.” I added weakly:

“I’ll wait a bit. I’ll see what happens.”

She was satisfied.

“Leon is going to show me the castle,” I said. I glanced at the clock.

“He will soon be waiting for me in the library.”

“It is close to the salon where we dined last night.”

“Margot,” I said, ‘what do you think of Etienne and Leon? “

“What do I think of them I Well, as brothers, I suppose. They have always been around.”

“You are fond of them, I dare say.”

“Yes … in a way. Leon was always a dreadful tease and Etienne had such a high opinion of himself. Etienne is jealous of anyone Papa takes notice of. Leon simply does not care. That amuses Papa in a way.

Once when he was angry with Leon he shouted, “You can go back to your peasant’s hovel!” And Leon prepared to go. That was when he was about fifteen. I remember it well. There was a terrible scene. My father beat him and locked him in his room. But I think he admired Leon for it. You see, when he killed Leon’s twin brother he swore he would give Leon a good education and treat him like a member of his family and if Leon went back. Papa would not have carried out his vow. So Leon had to stay. “

“But he wanted to, of course.”

“Of course he did. He would hate to go back to poverty. In fact he takes food and money to his family and they depend on him a good deal.”

“I’m glad he hasn’t turned his back on them.”

“He never would. Of course Etienne is quite different. He is delighted to be here and have Papa recognize him as his son. The only thing that irks him is his illegitimacy. I think Papa regrets that too. Etienne is always hoping that he will be legitimized.”

“Is that possible?”

“Something can be done, I believe. Etienne would love to be the future Comte and inherit everything. I think Papa would make him his heir but at the back of his mind is the;

thought that if Maman died he’d marry again. He’s not too? old. He was married to my mother when he was seventeen.

I’m sure he’s hoping to get a legitimate son one day. ” ‘< ” How awful for your mother. ” j ” She hates him and he despises her. I think she would be, afraid if it wasn’t for Nou-Nou. Nou-Nou distrusts my father,” She always has.

Naturally she wouldn’t think anyone was’ good enough for her mignon ne Ursule. Nou-Nou was her nurse when she was a baby and you know how doting nursesj get. She was my nurse too, but my mother was always the one for her, and when my mother became an invalid she didn’t really want anything to interfere with her care of her. It’s rather embarrassing for my father, for NouNou insists on cooking everything my mother eats. “

“What a dreadful implication! I wonder he doesn’t tell he to go.”

“He’s amused and he always seems to respect people who amuse him and stand up to him.”

“I wonder you don’t all do that, then.”

“We mean to, but somehow when you face him and him angry, looking like the Devil himself, your courage fails you. Mine does. So does Etienne’s. I’m not sure of Leon’sj He’s stood up to him once or twice.

Nou-Nou is determine to defend my mother and she’d die doing it if necessary. “

“But this implies that he is plotting murder.”

“He killed Leon’s brother.”

“That was an accident.”

“Yes, but he killed him nevertheless.”

I shivered. I felt more strongly than ever that Iou to go home.

It was time for me to go to the library to meet Leon so went down. It was disconcerting to find the Comte there. was seated in an armchair reading a book.

The library was impressive with its great chandelier’s the book-lined walls, the painted ceiling, the long window with their velvet drapes.

But in that moment I was aware nothing but the Comte.

“Good morning. Cousin,” he said, rising. He came to and, taking my hand, kissed it.

“You look as fresh as the morning and as beautiful. I trust you slept well.”

I hesitated.

“As well as can be expected in a strange bed, thank you.”

“Ah. I have slept in so many strange beds that such a thing would never affect me.”

“I have come to meet Leon who is showing me the castle.”

“I dismissed him and told him I would take his place.”

“Oh!” I was startled.

“I trust you are not displeased. I thought I should be the one to show you my castle. I’m rather proud of it, you know.”

“Naturally you must be.”

“It has been in my family for Ave hundred years. That is a long time, eh. Cousin?”

“A very long time. Do you think it necessary to continue this farce of cousin ship when we are alone?”

“To tell the truth I rather like to think of you as my cousin. Do you share my feelings?”

“As a matter of fact, I think the relationship is so absurd that I never consider it seriously. It was in order while Margot and I were .”

He raised a hand.

“Remember I have forbidden that matter to be mentioned.”

“It is absurd not to when it is the very reason for my being here.”

“It is merely a beginning … an opening gambit. Do you play chess.

Cousin? I am sure you do. If not, I shall teach you. “

I said that my mother and I had played together. She had learned from my father but I was sure my game would not match up to his.

“I am sure it will. I look forward to evenings when we pit our wits over the board. But let us start our tour of exploration. We will go and mount the great staircase. Then we shall enter the really ancient part of the castle.”

“I should like that,” I said.

I shall be a better guide than Leon. After all, it has not been in his family for centuries, has it? And although his present affluence appears to sit lightly in him, he never forgets where it came from.

Etienne is the same. There are things in life which should be forgotten and those which should be remembered.

It is a wise man who can sort out which, for then he will be happy, and is not happiness the goal of us all? The wisest man is the happiest man. Do you agree, Cousin? “

“Yes, I think I do.”

“How delighted I am. At last we have found a matter on which we can agree. I hope it won’t happen too often, though. I shall enjoy crossing swords with you.”

We had come to a great courtyard where, he told me, as Margot already had, that the jousts and tilting used to be held.

“Look at these steps. They are impressive, are they not? See how the stones have worn away with the tread of thousands of feet over the centuries. Guests of the household used to promenade up and down the staircase. It was a way of taking the air and when the tournaments were in progress they would use the steps as seats to watch the show.

Here on the platform at the top of the staircase my family would sit surrounded by important guests and watch from here. On this very platform they would hold court like kings and mete out justice to malefactors who would be brought to them and maybe sentenced to a spell in the dungeons from which many of them never emerged. Those were cruel days, Cousin. “

“Let us hope there is less cruelty in the world today,” I said.

He put a hand on my shoulders and answered: “I am not sure of that.

Let us hope the holocaust will be avoided, for God knows what could happen to us if it should come. “

He was silent for a while and then he told me how the beggars used to take up their stand by the vaults which supported the great staircase and they reaped rich rewards on those days when the Comtes of Silvaine gave their tournaments.

“From the platform one reaches the principal apartments of the castle.

Come, Cousin, here is the hall. “

“It’s vast,” I said.

“It needed to be. Here they used to live their public lives. Here the lord of the castle received his messengers, judged those who had misbehaved, summoned his serfs and gathered together his fiefs when he was going to war. ” ‘

I shuddered.

“You are cold. Cousin?” He touched my arm lightly and as I tried to move away as unobtrusively as I could, he noticed and smiled faintly.

“No thanks,” I said.

“I was just thinking of all the events which must have taken place over the centuries. It is almost as though they have left something behind.”

“You are imaginative. I am glad. You will find plenty to catch your fancy here in the castle.”

“It will be interesting …” Something made me add, . during my brief stay. “

“Your stay, dear Cousin, I hope will not be brief.”

“I have decided I must go as soon as Marguerite has recovered.”

“Perhaps we shall find another reason for holding you here.”

“I very much doubt that. I have come to the conclusion that my place is in England … teaching school. It is what I was trained for.”

“If I may say so, you don’t fit the part.”

“You may certainly say it but your opinion will make no difference to my intentions.”

“I think you are’ too wise to act rashly. The school did not pay. Did you not leave it for that reason? That lily-livered creature Joel had put you out of favour with his family and departed. can only despise such an act.”p>

“It was not like that at all.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I know he was attracted by you and that is something I can fully understand, but when Papa cracked the whip and said Go, he went.”

“Sir John, like other parents, expected obedience from his offspring, I suppose.”

“Your gallant Joel was not a child. One would have expected him to make a stand. But no. I cannot admire a laggard in love.”

“There was no question of love. We were good friends. And this is a subject which I find distasteful. Do you mind if we continue exploring the castle?”

He bowed his head.

“It is my great wish to please you,” he said.

“Through the hall here, is the chamber which is a sort of salon. This and the bedchamber were the chief apartments of the lord and his lady.

It was built as a fortress you see.

Creature comforts were not as important as the fortifications The chamber is as large as the hall. “

“Yes, here they entertained their guests. They set up table on trestles and on the dais there was another tablet he high table. At this sat the lord, his lady and the chief guests. After feasting the tables were removed and the guests sat round thi great fire … here in the centre of the room … an open fire.”

“I can picture them, sitting round telling stories …”

“And singing their songs. The minstrels were constant visitors. They used to roam the countryside, calling at castle and great houses where they would sing for their supple. They worked hard, poor devils, and often were badly served for they would sometimes be refused payment after the had performed. “

“I trust never in this castle.”

I trust not. My ancestors were wild and lawless but al though I have heard stories of their wickedness it did no include meanness. We were lavish spenders, reckless in all things, but I never heard of a refusal to pay those who serve us well. The high table you see over there looked over th low tables, so that we could keep an eye on our lesse gaests. We have kept this part of the chateau as it was and wi only use it on ceremonial occasions. I like to be rem inde of how my ancestors lived. We don’t cover the floor wit! rushes, of course. What an unsavoury custom that was Empimenter was often necessary. Ah, Cousin, you are puzzled You do not know empimenter? Confess. At last I have triumphed. “

“Triumphed?” I said.

“I cannot understand why you should think I am under the impression that I know everything ” It is because you are so knowledgeable that I constant! feel that every challenge ends in victory for you. “

“Why should there be this … unarmed combat?” I demanded with asperity.

“It seems the nature of our relationship.”

“Our relationship is that of employer and employed. It i my duty to give satisfaction, not to joust, tilt or …”

“Only once have I disconcerted you. Cousin. That was l the days before our cousin ship when you crept into my be<i chamber and were caught.

Then you looked like a naught child and I will confess that from that moment you enchanted me. “

“I think you should understand …”

“Oh, I do understand. I understand perfectly. I know I must tread with care. I know that you are poised for flight. What a tragedy that would be … for me … and perhaps for you. Don’t be afraid, little Cousin.

I told you that I come from a line of reckless men but I am only rash when the occasion demands it. “

“This seems an unusual conversation to have grown out of my ignorance regarding the word … was it empimenter?”

“It is hardly likely that you would know this word, for fortunately it is little used now. It means to perfume by burning juniper wood or Eastern perfumes, and this had to be done when the stench of the rushes was unendurable.”

“Surely it would have been simpler to remove the rushes.”

“They were replaced now and then but so odoriferous were they that they left their aroma behind. See these coffers. In them our treasures were kept … gold and silver vessels and furs of course … sables, ermines, vair and miniver. Then when shut, you see, they could be used as seats, for there was not enough seating space for our guests in these seats cut out of the walls. Many of them would have squatted on the floor, round the fires in winter most likely. Through the chamber we pass into the bedchamber. Here many of my ancestors were born.”

Our footsteps clattered over the stone floor. There was no bed in the room, only a few pieces of heavy furniture which I imagined had been used before the rest of the castle had been built.

From this room we passed into several smaller rooms all sparsely furnished, stone walled and stone floored.

“The home of a medieval nobleman,” said the Comte.

“It is small wonder that as time passed we had to build ourselves more elegant living quarters. We were very proud of our castles, I can tell you. In the reign of Francois Premier building flourished. We followed the King, you see. He was a great lover of the arts. He once remarked that men could make a king, but only God could make an artist. He was interested m architecture, so it was fashionable for his friends to be interested too and we vied with each other to build beautiful mansions. We built partly to flaunt our wealth and partly to indulge in secret pursuits. Thus we had hidden rooms, secret passages, and we were determined that none but ourselves should know of them, but perhaps I will show you ours one day. One great lady had her architect’s head cut off so that she could be sure that he never passed on the secret plans of her house.”

“It seems a drastic measure.”

“But you must admit foolproof. Oh dear Cousin, how I enjoy shocking you!”

“I’m afraid I shall have to mar your pleasure by telling you I don’t believe the story.”

“Why should you not? The lord of the castle-and that means his entire estate which is vast is supreme. His actions cannot be questioned by his underlings.”

“Then I hope you do not contemplate using your powers in such a manner.”

“It might depend on how tempted I was.”

“I suppose a great many people lived in the castle,” I said, changing the subject, which I believed was something which was frowned on, as only the Comte decided whether a topic was exhausted.

He raised his eyebrows and I thought he was about to remind me of this but he changed his mind.

“A great many,” he said. There were the squires, as they were called. They were in charge of various household departments. There was the squire of the table, of the chamber, of the wine cellar and i so on. Many of them came from noble families and were being prepared to take the order of chivalry. So it was a large household. Of course the stables were an important part of if the castle. There were no carriages in those days but there? were horses of all kinds draught horses, palfreys and the finest steeds for the use of the lord of the castle. In exchange for the services he received the lord of the castle would educate his squires, and his riches and importance would be judged- by the number of squires he supported. ” ” A custom which no longer exists, though I suppose Etienne and Leon are in some measure the squires of today.”

“You could call them that. They receive the education of’ noblemen and the training that goes to make up breeding.;! And they are here because I owe a debt to their parents. Yes, you could say it is similar. Ah, here is one other chamber which I must show you. The Chambre des Pucelles the Maidens’ chamber. “

I looked into the large room. A spinning-wheel stood in one corner and the walls were hung with tapestry.

“Worked by the maidens,” said the Comte.

“You see it is a light room.

Imagine them all, heads bent over their work, plying their needles.

The maidens were received at the castle too. They must be of good birth and excel at their needle. To excel at the needle was considered necessary to good breeding. And you. Cousin, how are you with the needle? “

“Completely lacking in breeding, I fear. I sew only when necessary.”

“I’m glad of that. Too much bending over embroidery is bad for the eyes and the posture. I can think of many occupations in which a woman can be better employed.”

“What do the tapestries represent?”

“Some war between the French and an enemy… the English I suppose.

It usually was. “

“And the French, I presume, are victorious?”

“Naturally. This was made by Frenchwomen. Countries make their tapestries as they make their history books. It is amazing how the right words-or pictures-can change defeat into victory.”

“I have never been taught to believe that the English were not driven out of France, nor did my mother and I attempt to teach it to others.”

“You are a very wise teacher. Cousin,” I believed he was mocking me but I was enjoying this. I so much liked to listen to his voice, to watch the emotions play across his face, the lift of those finely-drawn brows, the quirk of the lips. I enjoyed showing him that, although he might command the rest of the household, he would not command me. I felt alive, as I rarely had before, and all the time I knew that I was being reckless and that according to everything I had been taught I should be making plans to get away.

The governess would sit with the maidens in their chamber,” he went on.

“I could see you in that role. That golden hair falling loose, perhaps plaited though, and one plait falling over your shoulder. You would look very severe when they made a bad stitch or talked too much and too frivolously but you would have liked their gossip, which would be all about the misdeeds which took place in the castle … i high places, perhaps. You would reprimand them but yo would be hoping they would go on, for you can be deceitful Cousin, I believe.”

Why should you believe that? “

“Because I have discovered it. You are planning to go back you say, when all the time you know you are going to stay You look at me with disapproval, but I wonder how mud you disapprove.”

He had shaken me. Could it be true that I was deceiving myself? Since I had known him I seemed to have become un sure of everything and most of all myself. Every instinct was telling me that I would be wise to get away before I became more involved; and yet . Perhaps he was right. I was deceitful I was telling myself I was planning to leave when ;

knew I wanted to stay.

I said sharply: “It is not for me to approve or disapprove.

“I have a notion that you enjoy my company. You sparkle you bristle, you like to banter … in fact I have the effect you that you have on me, and that is something we should rejoice in… not fight against’ ” Monsieur Ie Comte, you are quite wrong. “

“And you are wrong to deny the truth and call me Monsieur Ie Comte when I have clearly commanded you to call mi Charles.”

“I did not think that was an order I must necessarily obey.

“All orders are for obeying.”

“But I am not one of your squires. I can leave tomorrow There is nothing to hold me here.”

There is your affection for my daughter. That girl is in i sad state.

I did not like that fit of hysteria yesterday. It make me very uneasy.

You can calm my daughter. You can make her see reason. Soon she will have to marry. On that I an determined. I want you to stay with her . until she i safely married. If you will do that, then you could con side leaving us. During that time I will pay sums of money into an account so that you will have enough to start a sehoo . perhaps in Paris where you can teach English. I could send many people to you as Sir John did in England. It will not be long before this marriage takes place. Marguerite has proved that she is ready for marriage. I know you are a very reasonable young woman-This is not much to ask, is it? “

“I should have to see how everything worked out,” I said cautiously.

“I could make no promises.”

“At least you will consider our poor Marguerite.”

I replied that of course I would.

We passed through the old part of the chateau to that which was constructed three hundred years later. Here the elegance of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries prevailed.

“This you will discover gradually as we live here,” he said.

“It is the ancient part I wanted to show you myself.”

The tour was over. His mood seemed to have changed. He had become a little morose. I wondered why; and although I had enjoyed his company I was relieved to be alone that I might think over what had been said for I was sure there had been frequent innuendoes behind our conversation.

II

Margot had suffered not only mental but physical strain after her ordeal. She was easily tired and still fretting for her baby. I had no doubt that she needed me. I was sorry for her because it was clear to me that she felt a little lost among her own family. With such parents it did not surprise me, and I was even more grateful for the love and wisdom of my own mother a greater gift than that which had been bestowed on poor Margot, for all her noble lineage and family wealth.

As for Etienne and Leon, although they had been brought up in the household, they were scarcely like brothers.

Nou-Nou understood Margot’s state for she was one of the few people who were in the secret. She prescribed a stay in bed for a few days on diet of her choosing which contained some of her potions, and these seemed to make Margot sleep a good deal. I was sure this was necessary as she seemed refreshed and in better spirits when she awakened from her rests.

This gave me time on my own and both Etienne and Leon seemed determined to be friendly. I took a ride with each of them and when I looked back, what happened during these rides seemed significant.

On the afternoon of that day when the Comte had taken me round the old part of the castle, Etienne asked me if I would care to ride with him.

He would like to show me the countryside, he said.

I had always enjoyed riding-even on poor little Jenny and I had thought of Dower with longing since I had left her. So I accepted with alacrity. Moreover I had my rather elegant riding habit which my mother had bought for me to impress Joel Derringham, so I was well equipped.

The only question was, which horse to ride, but Etienne assured me that there would be just the right mount for me in the castle stables.

He was right. There was a lovely strawberry roan.

“Not too frisky,” said Etienne.

“Oh, I know you are an excellent horsewoman, but just at first…”

“How you could have learned such a thing I’ve no idea,” I replied.

“In fact I’m just a horsewoman … not a good one.”

“You are too modest. Cousin.”

I noticed the word ‘cousin’ and smiled inwardly. If I was the Comte’s cousin, Etienne would want me to be his. I was beginning to understand Etienne.

His manners were impeccable. He helped me to mount and complimented me on my outfit.

“Most elegant,” he called it.

“I thought so at home,” I told him, ‘but I am not so sure here. It’s strange how clothes can change in different environments. “

“You would look charming in any environment,” said Etienne gallantly.

The countryside was beautiful, for the leaves of the trees were now being touched with autumn tints. We cantered and galloped and I was glad of the practice I had had on Dower. I was touched by Etienne’s care for me, for I noticed how watchful he was and if he thought I was out of my depth-which he did once or twice-he would be beside me ready to make sure that I was all right.

As we were returning to the chateau I think we must have been about two miles from it-we came to a house in a hollow. It was charming, in grey stone over which several kinds of creeper had spread itself. As the leaves of some of this were beginning to turn reddish brown the effect was delightful.

A woman was standing at the gate as though watching for someone. I was struck immediately by her rather flamboyant beauty. She had thick red hair and green eyes; she was tall, inclined to plumpness and very elegant.

“I must present you to Madame LeGrand said Etienne.

“She must be the chateau’s nearest neighbour.”

“You are right. She is,” replied Etienne.

Madame LeGrand had opened the gate. We dismounted, Etienne holding my horse while I did so, then tethering both horses to the post set there for that purpose.

“This is Mademoiselle Maddox,” said Etienne.

Madame LeGrand came towards me. She wore a green gown which became her well and matched her eyes. Beneath the skirt was a hoop which accentuated the smallness of her waist, and panniers of rich material draped over it to fall to the ground disclosing, as it fell apart, a satin petticoat of a slightly darker shade of green. Her hair was elaborately dressed -high, according to the fashion prevalent in France, which had been set by the Queen who needed height on account of her high forehead. The bodice of the green gown was cut low to disclose the whiteness of neck and the beginnings of a well-formed if ample bosom. She was a strikingly beautiful woman.

I had heard that you were at the chateau. Mademoiselle,” she told me, ‘and I was eager to meet you. I hope you will honour me by taking a glass of wine.”

I said I should be delighted to do so.

“Come into the salon,” she said.

We stepped into a cool hall in which had been arranged leaves of varying greens. Green was evidently her favourite colour. It suited her. I saw how attractive were those green eyes with their thick black lashes, particularly in contrast with the burnished reddish hair.

The salon was small, but perhaps it seemed so because I had already become accustomed to the rooms at the chateau. Compared with those of the schoolhouse, it would be called big. The furniture was as elegant as that in the castle and there were beautiful rugs on the floor. The pale green of the drapes toned perfectly with that of the cushions. It was ;j indeed a gracious room. j The wine was brought and she asked me how I was enjoying my stay at my cousin’s chateau.

I hesitated. In spite of everything I could not think of myself as the Comte’s cousin. I replied that I was finding J everything very interesting. “How strange that you should come across the Comte and Marguerite after all those years. You must have been aware of the relationship, though. You must have known that you had these connections.”

Both she and Etienne seemed to be watching me intently, j “No,” I said.

“It was a surprise.”

How interesting I And how did you come across each j other? “

The Comte had said that when you were acting a part it ;

was wise to keep as near the truth as possible.

“It was when the Comte and his family were staying at the home of Sir John Derringham in England.”

“So you were staying there too?”

“No. I lived there. My mother had a school A school? How odd!”

“Mademoiselle Maddox is a highly educated young lady,” said Etienne.

“It was not in the least odd,” I retorted.

“My mother became a widow and had to support herself and her daughter. As she was well equipped to teach, she did so.”

“And the Comte discovered the school,” prompted Etienne.

“His daughter was a pupil there,” “Ah, I see,” said Madame LeGrand.

“And then he discovered that you were related to him.”

“Yes … it was like that.”

“You must find it strange to come from a school … to this.” She waved her hand to indicate the chateau.

“It was. I was very happy in the school. When my mother was alive we were content.”

“I am sorry. That is sad. And then you came to France?”

“Marguerite needed a holiday. She was unwell. So I came with her.”

“And the school?”

It is finished. “

“So you intend to stay here … indefinitely It occurred to me that she was asking too many questions for politeness and I was being foolish in thinking I must answer them.

I said coolly: “Madame, I have made no definite plans, so therefore I am unable to discuss them with you.”

“Mademoiselle Maddox speaks French very well, does she not, Etienne?”

Etienne smiled at me.

“I have rarely heard an English person speak so well.”

“Only the faintest trace of accent.”

“But this is charming,” Etienne added.

Madame nodded and I thought it was time I started the questioning.

“You have a delightful house here, Madame. Have you lived here long?”

“For some nineteen years.”

“It must be the nearest house to the chateau.”

“It is less than two miles away.”

“And you must be happy to own such a delightful residence.”

“I am happy to be here but I don’t own it. Like everything else on this estate, it belongs to the Comte Fontaine Delibes. Mademoiselle, have you often visited France?”

“I had never been here before I arrived with Marguerite.”

“How very interesting.”

I changed the subject and we talked about the beauties of the countryside, the similarities and the differences when compared with that of England; and the conversation stayed in more conventional channels.

After a while we rose to go and she took my hands in hers and expressed the wish that I should find time to call on her again.

“Etienne frequently calls, I’m glad to say. You must bring Mademoiselle again, Etienne, or if you come alone. Mademoiselle, I shall be delighted.”

I thanked her for her hospitality while Etienne untethered our horses.

As we mounted and rode away I said: “What a beautiful woman.”

“I think so too,” he answered.

“Perhaps I am prejudiced.”

I looked at him in astonishment. He smiled and keeping his eyes on my face as though intent on my reaction, he added:

“Did you realize that she is my mother?”

I felt shaken, thinking immediately of her relationship with the Comte. I wondered whether they had deliberately kept her identity from me so that Etienne might surprise me thus.

I was thankful that I could remain calm, remembering my mother’s remarks that an English lady never showed her feelings, particularly in times of stress. Was this stress? It was certainly startling.

I said; “You must be very proud to have such a beautiful mother.”

Yes,” he said, ” I am. “

Was she still his mistress? I wondered. She lived in a house close to the chateau . his house. Did he visit her there? Did she come to the chateau!

It was no affair of mine, I told myself grimly.

It was on the following day that I took my ride with Leon. I found him easier to talk to than Etienne. He was more relaxed, more natural. He saw no reason to hide the fact that he was the son of peasants and I liked him for it.

If he lacked Etienne’s dark good looks he had been more lavishly endowed with charm. Those dark blue eyes were arresting in his brown face. His dark crinkly hair, worn short, fitted his head cap like His clothes were well cut but serviceable and they completely lacked the dash and elegance of Etienne’s.

He rode his horse well as though he and the animal were one. I was on the strawberry roan which I had ridden on the previous day. I felt a little easier with her, and I was sure she did with me.

Leon was gayer by nature than Etienne more lighthearted, I fancied, but, like Etienne, he complimented me on my riding habit and we talked about horses for a while. I told him about Dower and how I regretted leaving her behind and how before I had acquired her I trundled round on Jenny.

I found myself telling him about my mother and it was a relief to be able to talk of her easily and with the certainty that he would understand, though why I should have thought so after so short an acquaintance, I was not sure. It was simply that his naturalness appealed to me. He was frank and open and I could be the same.

“What would your mother think if she knew you were here? ” he asked.

I hesitated. That she would heartily disapprove of the Comte I was well aware. But she would have enjoyed seeing me treated as a guest in the castle.

I replied: “I think she would agree that I was wise to leave the school when I did … before I was in real difficulty with it.”

“And I suppose she would think it was comme il faut to stay with your cousins?”

“I think Marguerite was glad to have me with her,” I said evasively.

He smiled wryly.

“And the Comte is equally glad. He makes that clear.”

“He is merely being a kind host.”

After our previous frankness, the reference to what must be a secret made a momentary barrier between us.

Then he said: I hear you visited Gabrielle LeGrand yesterday. “

“Oh yes ” She is a very great friend of the Comte, as you no doubt gathered. “

“I learned she is Etienne’s mother.”

“Yes. She and the Comte have been friends for years.”

“I understand,” I said.

I remembered the words I had heard him exchange with Etienne and I believed he was warning me. They did not believe in the cousin ship and I was not surprised. I could see that Leon had worked out that the Comte had met me in England, had liked me, had plans for me, and had brought me to France in order that he might carry them out. He must have a poor opinion of me. But how could I tell him that I had come solely because Marguerite needed me?

“I suppose,” he said conversationally, ‘that life in England is very different from what it is here. “

“Naturally … and yet perhaps fundamentally the same.”

“Your Sir John Derringham, would he have his mistress living nearby quite blatantly? And what would his wife say?”

I was startled but tried not to show it.

“No. That would not be acceptable. Sir John, in any case, would never behave in such a way.”

“It is commonplace enough here. Some of our kings have set the example.”

We have had kings who behaved similarly. Charles II for one. “

“He had a French mother.”

“You seem determined to prove your countrymen light in their morals.”

“I think we have different standards.”

“What you are thinking of exists in England, most certainly, but it is less openly done. Whether there is a virtue in secrecy. I am not sure.

But I believe it makes life easier for the people concerned. “

“Some of them.”

“The wife in such cases. It can’t be very pleasant to have a husband’s infidelities flaunted in one’s face. On the other hand for the husband and his mistress to meet openly saves them a great deal of subterfuge.”

“I see you are a realist. Mademoiselle, and much too honest and charming ever to be embroiled in these sordid matters.”

Oh yes, it was clearly a warning. I might have been offended but there was real concern in his eyes and I could not help but be drawn to him.

“You may be sure that I never would be,” I said firmly.

He looked very pleased and, reading his thoughts, I realized that he believed the Comte had discovered his cousin-or if the relationship had been invented it had been without my knowledge-had invited her here with his daughter as her companion and that, having been brought up in a prim English community she had no idea of his intentions.

He was wrong on every point, but I liked him for his concern and assessment.

He seemed to cast aside his anxieties on my account and prepare to enjoy our ride. He began by talking about himself with a frankness I found delightful.

It was a strange fate when everything depended on one incident-like the Comte’s killing of his twin brother.

“Just think,” he said, ‘but for that my life would have been completely different. Poor little Jean Pierre. I often wonder if he looks down on me and says: “There! You owe it all to me.”

“It was a terrible thing, and yet, as you say, it brought good to you.”

“When I go to my old home, I know how good-not only for me but for them all. I am able to help them, you see. The Comte knows of this and is pleased. There is also an allowance for them from him. They have the best house in the village and several acres. They can make a living and are envied by their neighbours. I have heard many of them say that God smiled on them that day when Jean Pierre was run over.”

I shivered slightly.

“Realism, Mademoiselle. It is the strongest characteristic of the French. Had Jean Pierre not run into the road at that precise moment and under the Comte’s horses, he would have lived wretchedly with his family who would have been in a similar plight. You understand their conclusions.”

“I think of your mother. What are her feelings?”

“With a mother it is different. She takes flowers every week to his grave and she grows evergreen bushes there to tell everyone that his memory remains green in her heart.”

“But at least she rejoices when she sees you.”

“Yes, but it reminds her of my twin brother, of course. People are talking of it now as much as they did when it happened. They blame the Comte more and forget what he has done for our family. It is the rising wave of anger against the aristocracy. Anything that can be brought against them is brought.”

T have been aware of that since I came to France, and I heard of it even before. “

“Yes, there are changes coming. I hear of what is brewing when I visit my family. They can be more frank with me than with any who were not of them, as it were. It is a growing tide of resentment. Sometimes there is little reason in it-but God knows at others there is. There are so many injustices in the country. The people are dissatisfied with their rulers. Sometimes I wonder how long it can last. Now it is not safe to travel alone through the villages unless one is dressed as a peasant. Never in my lifetime have I known that before.”

“What will be the end of it?”

“Ah, my dear Mademoiselle, for that we must wait and see.”

As we were nearing the chateau we heard the sound of horse’s hoofs and a man came riding towards us. He was tall, rather soberly dressed and wore no wig over his plentiful reddish hair.

“It’s Lucien Dubois,” cried Leon.

“Lucien, my dear fellow. It is good to see you.”

The man pulled up and took off his hat when he saw me. Leon introduced me. Mademoiselle Maddox, a cousin of the Comte’s now visiting the castle.

Lucien Dubois said he was enchanted to meet me and asked if I was staying long.

“So much depends on circumstances,” I told him.

“Mademoiselle is English but she speaks our language like a native,” said Leon.

“Not quite, I’m afraid,” I replied.

“But most excellently,” said Monsieur Dubois.

“You will be going to your sister,” said Leon.

“I hope you are going to stay for a while.”

“Like Mademoiselle, I will say that so much depends on the circumstances.”

“You have already met Madame LeGrand said Leon to me.

“Monsieur Dubois is her brother.”

I thought there was a resemblance the flamboyant good looks, the distinctive colouring, although the man’s eyes were not as green as his sister’s-but perhaps he had not the art of accentuating their colour.

I wondered what he thought of his sister’s relationship with the Comte. Perhaps as a Frenchman he accepted it. I thought cynically that the Comte’s nobility probably made the situation tolerable. To be a King’s mistress was an honourable position; to be a poor man’s a shameful one. I would not accept the distinction and if it was due to my immaturity and lack of realism, I was glad of them.

“Well, we shall be seeing you before long, I don’t doubt,” said Leon.

“If I am not honoured with an invitation to the castle you must come to my sister’s house,” said Monsieur Dubois. Then bowing to us he rode on.

“There you see a man who is disgruntled with life,” Leon told me. ‘ “Why?”

“Because he thinks it has not dealt him what he deserves. The plaint of many, you may say. All the failures of the world blame fate.”

“The fault is in ourselves not in our stars, as our national poet put it.”

“There are a lot of them about. Mademoiselle. Envy is the most common emotion in the world. It’s the basic ingredient of every deadly sin.

Poor Lucien! He has a grievance. I think he has never forgiven the family of Fontaine Delibes. “

What did they do to him? “

“It is not what they did to him but what was done to his father. Jean Christophe Dubois was incarcerated in the Bastille and died there.”

“For what reason?”

“Because the Comte-the present one’s father-wanted Jean Christophe’s wife-that was the mother of Lucien and Gabrielle. She was a beautiful woman. Gabrielle has inherited her looks. There is such a thing called a lettre de cachet. This could be acquired by influential people and through it they could have their enemies imprisoned. The victims would never know the reason for their detention. The lettre was enough to put them there. It is an iniquitous practice. The very words lettre de cachet can strike terror, into the heart of any man. There is no redress against it. Of course the Comtes Fontaine Delibes had always had a foot in Court circles and those of the Parlement. Their influence and their power was -and is-great. The present Comte’s father wanted this woman, her husband objected and was preparing to take her away. Then one night a messenger arrived at his home. He carried a lettre de cachet. Jean Christophe was never seen again.”

“How cruel!”

The times are cruel. It is for that reason that the people are determined to change them. “

Then it is time they did. “

“It takes more than a few weeks to set right the errors of centuries.

Jean Christophe had a son and daughter. The Comte died three years after he had taken Jean Christophe’s wife and there was a new Comte, Charles Auguste, the present one. Gabrielle was a young widow of eighteen years. She came to plead for her father. Charles Auguste was struck by her beauty and elegance. He was very young then and impressionable. It was too late. Jean Christophe died in prison before his release could be brought about. However, Charles Auguste had fallen in love with Gabrielle and a year after their meeting Etienne was born. “

“I am amazed by the drama which seemed to surround the castle.”

“Where the Comtes Fontaine Delibes are there will always be drama.”

“Gabrielle at least forgave the injury done to her father.”

“Yes, but I fancy it may be different with Lucien. I often think he harbours resentment.”

As we rode on to the chateau I could not stop thinking of the poor man who had been ruthlessly condemned to spend the last years of his life in a prison because another wished him out of the way, and it seemed to me that intrigue and drama which would previously have been beyond my conception was building up around me.

Margot called me to her room. She looked radiant and I marvelled at the manner in which she could change from depression to excitement.

On her bed were several rolls of material.

“Come and look at these, Minelle,” she cried.

I examined them. There was a roll of velvet of the fashionable puce colour with gold lace and another in a beautiful shade of blue with silver lace.

“You are going to have some fine dresses,” I commented.

“I am going to have one. The other will be for you. I chose the blue for you and the silver goes with it perfectly. There is going to be a ball and my father’s instructions are that I look my best.”

I fingered the blue velvet and said: I cannot accept such a gift. “

“Don’t be silly, Minelle. How can you go to the ball in what you have brought with you?”

“I obviously can’t. But there is an alternative. I shall stay away.”

Margot stamped her foot impatiently.

“You will not be allowed to. You are to, go. It is for this reason that you are to have the dress.”

“I did not know when I accepted this post that I was to be a … bogus cousin. I came as companion to you.”

Margot burst out laughing.

“You must be the first person in any post who has complained of being treated too well. Of course you must go to the ball. I need a chaperone, don’t I?”

“You talk foolishly. How could you need a chaperone at a ball which your parents will be giving?”

“One parent. I don’t suppose Mama will be present. She will, as Papa says, have the vapours ready for such an occasion.”

“That is not a kind remark, Margot.”

“Oh, stop being the prim old schoolmistress. You’re not that any more.” She picked up the puce-coloured velvet and, draping it round her, paraded in front of the mirror.

“Is it not magnificent? What a colour! It’s just right for me. Don’t you agree, Minelle? And are you not pleased to see me happier?”

“I am amazed that you can change so quickly.”

“I haven’t really changed. I still mourn in my heart for Chariot.

There is a sadness down here. ” She pointed to her breast.

“But I can’t be sad all the time and loving a ball and a new gown does not make me love my baby any less.”

She threw her arms about me and for a few moments we clung together. I think in that moment, for all my air of worldliness, I was as bewildered as she was.

“I don’t think I can accept the gown, Margot,” I said at length.

“Why not? It’s wages, surely.”

“I have my wages. This is different.”

“Papa will be furious and he has been so good-tempered lately. He personally told me I must choose for us both and then he went on to suggest the colours, which is typical of him. I am sure he would be most displeased if I had ” chosen” anything but what he suggested.”

“I think it would be quite wrong for me to accept this.”

“Annette, our dressmaker, is coming this afternoon to start work.”

I decided that I must see the Comte and also prepare myself to leave.

I had discovered too much about him and his way of life to feel happy in his household. I could not throw off the upbringing of a lifetime in a few short months.

Moreover, I was sure that my mother’s principles of life had more to recommend them than those which I had discovered prevailed at the chateau.

I learned that at this hour the Comte was generally in the library where he did not like to be disturbed. But I decided to brave his displeasure, for if he were displeased with me it would be easier to arrange my departure.

But he seemed far from displeased to see me. He rose immediately and, taking both my hands, drew me into the room. He held out a chair for me. I sat and he sat also but not before bringing his chair closer to mine.

“To what,” he said, ‘do I owe this pleasure? “

“I think it is time there was an understanding,” I began, but although I had felt bold and determined before I entered the room my self-possession was fast waning.

“There is nothing I should welcome more. I am sure that one as perceptive as you must be aware of my feelings towards you.”

“Before you say any more, let me tell you that I cannot accept a ball dress from you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I do not consider it…”

“Right and proper!” He raised his eyebrows and I saw the mocking light in his eyes.

“You must explain to me. I am most ignorant on these matters. Tell me what it is right to accept and what not right.”

“I accept my salary because I earn it as a companion to your daughter, for which post I was engaged.”

“Oh, but you became a cousin … a connection of the family. Surely one member of the family can give another a gift … and how much better to give something which is needed rather than some useless bauble.”

“Please, when we are alone let us drop this farce.”

“Yes, let us. The truth is that I am falling in love with you. You know it. So why pretend otherwise.”

I rose to my feet. He was beside me, his arms about me.

“Please let me go,” I said firmly.

“First tell me that you can love me also.”

I do not find this amusing. “

“Oddly enough, although my emotions are so deeply stirred, I do. You both amuse and enchant me. I think that is why I am so excited by you. You are different from anyone I have ever known.”

“Will you grant me one thing.”

“It shall be my pleasure to give you all you ask.”

“Then will you please return to your seat and let me tell you of my feelings.”

“Your request is naturally granted.”

He sat down and I did the same. I felt I must, for my legs were trembling and I was fearful that he might notice how alarmed I was. I clasped my hands firmly and said: I am not of your circle. Monsieur Ie Comte. “

“Charles,” he reproved.

“I cannot call you naturally by your Christian name. You are the Comte to me and always will be. I have been brought up to accept a different code of behaviour, a different set of morals. My outlook is quite opposed to yours. You would find me excessively boring, I am sure.”

It delights me that we can never agree on anything. That is just an added charm. “

“You are suggesting that I become your mistress. I know that you have had many and that to you this is a natural way of life. Can you understand that it is something I could never accept, and for that reason I have decided to return to England? I had thought I would wait until Margot was settled but I see now that that is impossible. What you have implied has made it so. I wish to make preparations to leave immediately.”

“I am afraid I cannot agree to that. You have been engaged to look after my daughter and I expect you to honour your bond.”

“Bond! What bond?”

“What is it? A gentleman’s agreement? Only this time it is between two of the opposing sexes. You could not leave Marguerite now!”

“She would understand.”

“Would she? You saw that display the other night. But why are we talking of her? Let us talk of ourselves. You would overcome your prejudices. I would show you how. You should have an establishment of your own … anything you wished for should be yours.”

“Do you think you could tempt me with establishments?”

“Not with establishments, perhaps.”

I lowered my eyes before his bold and passionate gaze. I was afraid of him-or perhaps more truthfully of myself.

Tell me one thing,” he said.

“If I were in a position to offer you marriage, and did, would you accept?”

I hesitated just too long. Then I said: “Monsieur, I do not know you well enough …”

“And what you have heard, I’ll warrant, has not always been to my advantage.”

“I do not presume to judge.”

“Which is exactly what you are doing.”

“No, I am trying to say that our lives are far apart. I should go back.”

To what? “

“Does that matter?”

“It is going to matter a great deal to you. What will you do, tell me that? Will you go back to your schoolhouse? With Master Joel likely to come home at any time. Not likely.”

“I have a little money…”

“Not enough, my brave darling. I see I have been too rash. I have spoken too soon. You came and caught me off my guard. God knows, I have curbed myself long enough. What do you think I am made of, ice maiden? You were meant for me. I knew it from the moment you came into my bedchamber and when I saw the rose colour creep up from your neck to your forehead. I like to embarrass you, for then I put you at a disadvantage. I like to quarrel with you. I like our battles of words.

There should be a rich climax to our quarrels. I often think of that.

Since I have known you I have no fancy for anyone else. “

“I hope that has not inconvenienced your mistresses.”

“A little, as you can imagine,” he said with a smile.

Then it is time I went and equilibrium was restored. “

He burst into laughter.

“Dearest Minelle, I often think what a fool young Joel was. He could have offered you marriage. Would to God I could! If I could take your hand now and say: Be my wife, I should be the happiest man in France.”

“Meanwhile you congratulate yourself on your inability to do so and save yourself from an act of such folly.”

You and I together . what joy we’d have. I know it. I know women. ”

“You do not have to assure me of that.”

“I sense those hidden depths. Oh Minelle, my love, we would have sons, you and I. You are made to bear sons. Come down from that pedestal and be happy. Let us take the next best thing.”

I cannot remain to listen to more of this. I find it offensive. Your invalid wife is under this very roof. “

“Much she cares. All she wants is to lie on her bed and complain of her countless ailments to her doting nurse who encourages her.”

“I see you are of a very sympathetic nature!”

“Minelle …”

I went to the door and he did not attempt to stop me. I was half glad, half sorry. I was terrified that he would take me firmly into his arms for when he did I could not but be aware of that potent attractiveness, and could almost imagine myself casting away the teachings of a lifetime. It was alarming. It was the real reason why I knew I must get away.

I ran to my room, shut the door and sat down at the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. My cheeks were flaming red and my hair dishevelled.

I could almost see my mother’s disapproving look and hear her admonition: “I should start packing right away. You are in acute danger. You cannot leave this house too soon.”

She was right, of course. By her standards I had been insulted. The Comte Fontaine Delibes was suggesting that I became his mistress. I would never have believed such a thing possible. Nor could I have believed I should feel this wild temptation. It was that which told me I must get away.

I started to take out my clothes and fold them.

“Where will you go?” asked my practical self.

“I don’t know. I’ll get a home somewhere. I’ll take a post. I have a little money. Perhaps I could go back to Derringham and try to open a school, and start again. I am more experienced of life now. I might make a success of it.”

Then I sat down and covered my face with my hands. It was as though desolation was closing in around me.

There was a tap on my door. Before I could answer, Margot burst in, her face distorted in horror as she flung herself at me.

“Minelle, we’ve got to run away. I won’t stay here. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

What do you mean? What has happened? “

“My father has just told me.”

I looked at her in amazement. He must have sent for her as soon as I had left him.

“The Vicomte de Grasseville has asked for my hand. He is a family equal to our own, and Papa has accepted him for me. At this ball we shall be affianced and married within a month. I won’t have it. I am so miserable, Minelle. The only thing that consoles me is that you are here.”

“I shall not be staying here long.”

“No. You will come with me. You will, won’t you? It’s the only way I would consider it.”

“Margot, I have to tell you. I am planning to leave.”

“What, leave here! Why?”

“Because I feel I must get back.”

“You mean you would leave me }’ ” It’s better for me to go, Margot.”

“Oh!” She let out a long wail and started to weep. Her sobs shook her and she made no effort to restrain them.

“I’m so unhappy, Minelle. If you’re here I can bear it. We can laugh together. You can’t go. I won’t let you.” She looked at me appealingly.

“We’re going to get Chariot back together. We’re going to think of a plan. You promised . you promised. Everything can’t go wrong. If I’ve got to marry this Grasseville, then you’ll be with me.” She started to laugh and that always frightened me; the mingling of tears and laughter could be terrifying.

“Stop it, Margot,” I cried.

“Stop it.”

“I can’t help it. It’s funny… funny …”

I took her by the shoulders and shook her Tragically funny,” she said, but she was quieter. She leaned against me and went on: ” You won’t go yet, Minelle. Promise me, oh promise me not yet. “

To soothe her I said not yet. Then I was committed to stay for a little while.

I wondered then whether he had broken the news to her because he knew what her reception of it would be. He was diabolically clever, I knew, and adept at getting his own way. That was what frightened me, and yet in an odd way-of which neither I nor my mother could approve it exhilarated me.

The dressmaker came but I refused to accept the blue material and said that I would not have it made up. Margot was frantic.

“You must come to the ball,” she cried.

“How can you fail me? I shall be forced to accept this Robert de Grasseville and I know I shall hate him. What shall I do? I can only bear it if you come.”

“I have not a suitable gown,” I said firmly, ‘and I am determined not to accept such a gift from your father. “

She paced up and down, talking of her yearning for Chariot, telling me that life was cruel. was cruel. I knew how wretched she was and I wouldn’t help her.p>

I assured her that I would do anything to help her.

“Anything?” she demanded dramatically.

“Anything that is honourably possible.”

She bad an idea. As I was so proud she would sell me one of her gowns.

We could have it changed and add to it. I could buy some ribbons and laces and make a new gown of it and have the satisfaction of paying for it.

She was immediately gay contemplating it.

“Imagine Papa’s face when he sees you. Oh, Minelle, we’ll do it. It’ll be such fun!”

I gave way to please her. No, that’s not true. To please myself. I too, should like to see his face. He thought he had won a temporary victory, but I should show him that he had not. I would take nothing from him; I was determined to show him that his suggestion was repulsive to me and that I deeply resented it. He must know that I was only staying on Margot’s account. As soon as she was married to her Vicomte I should go.

I did want to attend the ball, though. I knew that it would be more grand than anything I had ever conceived. I wanted to see the Comte among his guests. He would probably not deign to notice me in spite of his protestations. I wondered whether Gabrielle LeGrand would be present.

I entered into the conspiracy of the dress, I must admit, with enthusiasm. At least it kept Margot happy. While she was laughing over the matter and going through her wardrobe making me try on this and that and laughing at the effect of some, she was not thinking of her future.

We found a simple blue silk.

“Just your colour,” she said. The under gown was a gauze dotted with gold and silver knots which gave it a starry look. It was low cut and diaphanous.

“It never suited me,” declared Margot. T fancy that with a little refurbishing it could just get by. It’ll be a little simple for a ball dress. Let’s call in Annette and see what she can do. “

Annette came in, studied me in the dress and knelt on the floor, her mouth full of pins. She shook her head.

“Too large in the waist, too short in the length …” was her verdict.

“You can do it, Annette. You can do it,” cried Margot, clasping her hands together.

Annette shook her head.

“I do not think it is possible.”

“Annette-Pas-Possible!” shouted Margot.

“That’s what we always called her. She always says it’s not possible and goes on to make it gloriously possible.”

“But this. Mademoiselle …” Annette’s face was full of woe.

Take it off the shoulders, Annette,” commanded Margot.

“Mademoiselle Maddox has good shoulders … they slope nicely. So feminine. We must show them. And can you get some more of this starry stuff? We could do with yards and yards more of that.”

T do not think that would be possible,” said Annette.

“Nonsense. I’ll swear you have some of the very stuff tucked away somewhere. You know you always kept the remnants.”

And so it went on, with Annette growing more and more lugubrious and Margot more certain that the dress would be a success.

And it was. I was amazed when it was ready a froth of gauze and blue silk, expertly pressed and adorned with delicate lace. I had a ball dress, and if it was proved-which I knew it would be-very simple in comparison with others, at least it was adequate and would enable me to go to the ball at very little cost to my purse and none to my pride.

The ball was to be held in the ancient hall and the Comte would receive his guests at the top of the great marble staircase. It would be grand even by castle standards, as it was to announce and celebrate the betrothal of his daughter.

I was sorry for Margot. The idea of being presented with a man for the first time and told: “This is your future husband!” If this was the way of aristocrats, I was glad I was not one of them.

The day before that of the ball there was a disturbance in the night.

It must have been early morning when I heard voices on the stairs. I opened my door and looked out.

The noise was coming from the Comtesse’s apartments. I heard the Comte’s voice, rather weary, I thought: “My dear Nou-Nou, we have had this before. You know it is only her nerves.”

“Not so. Monsieur Ie Comte. Not so. She has been in pain. I soothed her with a draught, but it cannot last. This is real pain and I want the doctors to see her.”

“You know you have only to send for them.”

“Then I shall do so without delay.”

“Nou-Nou, you upset yourself unnecessarily. You know you do. And to awaken me at this hour …”

“I know my girl. If others upset themselves a little more now and then it might be better.”

There is no reason why the entire household should share in this crise de nerfs. “

“It is more than that.”

“Now, Nou-Nou. You know that my daughter’s ball takes place the day after tomorrow. So does her mother. She wants to call attention to herself.”

“You are a hard man. Monsieur Ie Comte.”

‘hi the circumstances I have to be. If you showed a little more firmness on these occasions perhaps there would not be the need for them. “

“I shall send for the doctors, then.”

“Do so by all means.”

I realized that I was eavesdropping and went back into my room somewhat ashamed.

Poor Comtesse! She was neglected and sad and perhaps sought to call attention to herself through her delicate constitution. She was using the wrong tactics if she hoped to attract her husband. She should show some spirit . as I had done.

I pulled myself up sharply. What was I thinking? I was being drawn more and more into the affairs of this household. With a man such as the Comte who had married a

f woman such as the Comtesse that could be an alarming involvement.

I knew this and yet I was allowing myself to be ,i more and more caught up in their lives. I saw the doctors arrive that day. Nou-Nou was waiting for j them and took them immediately to her mistress. The Comte was not in the castle but they waited to see him. ‘

Margot and I spent the evening together. She was less exuberant now that the excitement of the dress was over.

“I wonder what Robert will be like,” she kept saying. “It seems strange that you have never seen him.”

“I think I may have done when we were children. His family’s estates are north of Paris. I believe he visited us when we were in Paris once. He was a horrible boy who ate all the gateau and then took the piece of cream I was saving until the last.”

“Not a very auspicious beginning to a lifetime’s union,” I said, but added: “People change as they grow up. The most awful children become the most charming.”

“He’ll be fat with spots, I know.”

“It’s not a bad idea to build up an unpleasant picture. Then you’ll be agreeably surprised.”

She was laughing again.

“You are good for me. You are … what is it astringent? That is what Papa likes in you. He does like you a great deal, you know.”

“As I shall be leaving here when you marry it doesn’t matter very much what he thinks of me, does it?”

“You will come with me, won’t you?”

“Until I have made my plans. But I can’t spend all my life in this sort of situation. You must realize that.”

“I have plans. When I’m married I’m going to get Chariot with me.”

“How?”

That’s for you to work out. “

I should have no idea how to begin. “

“Now you sound like Annette-Pas-Possible. Everything is possible … if you set about it in the right way. And one thing I’m going to do is have Chariot with me. I think of him all the time … well, almost all the time. How do I know what sort of people have him? Think of it… he will be growing up … talking …”

“Hardly yet.”

“He will be calling someone else Maman.* I could see she was working herself up into another fit of hysteria and this was exactly what I wanted to avoid. So I soothed her by making ridiculous plans as to how we should find Chariot. We would go to the inn where he had been taken from us; we would question people and find the trail which led to him.

This was the sort of game she so much enjoyed and we played it for a long time and went into such detail that she really thought it was possible and derived a great deal of comfort from our planning.

Yes, I could see that she needed me.

III

He looked magnificent standing there at the top of the staircase receiving his guests. Margot was beside him flushed and very attractive in her puce velvet. When he saw me his eyes kindled. His glance took in my gown. I had been right in thinking it would be very simple in comparison with others. What I had failed to realize was that its very simplicity made it conspicuous.

In my bedroom, I had looked, as I thought, quite beautiful. I had brushed my hair until it shone and it certainly was, as my mother would have said, my crowning glory. It made a frame about my face and I had dressed it high, padding it a little to make it stand up in accordance with the fashion, with one curl coming forward to hang over my shoulder. I knew I looked my best and Margot had insisted that I wear a tiny black patch-which she provided-at the side of my temple.

“It makes your eyes look bigger and bluer,” she said.

“Besides, it’s the fashion.”

I could scarcely recognize my reflection as myself. What a grand assembly it was! The great hall must have seen many such, but I believed it could never have seen a grander one. Flowers had been brought in from the castle hothouses. There were great pots of them on the high table and urns stood on pedestals, fragrant and colourful. I felt a little bewildered by so much elegance. Never had I seen such magnificent apparel as that worn by the women and men. There must have been a fortune in jewels in the castle that night. Musicians were grouped round the high table and the dancing was most elegant and slightly different from that which we did at home.

In my altered gown, adorned only by the cameo brooch which my mother had treasured and worn about twice in her lifetime, I must have looked like a little moth who had somehow become trapped among gorgeous dragonflies.

If you had accepted the Comte’s gift you could have competed with them, I admonished myself. But of course that would have been out of the question. If I did look like a drab little moth, at least I was a proud one.

Leon discovered me and asked what I thought of the ball.

“I think that I should never have come. I don’t fit in.”

Why not? “

I looked down at my dress.

“It’s charming,” he assured me.

“So many of the people look alike. Blindly they follow the fashion. You can scarcely tell one from the other. You are different. You have a style of your own. I find that pleasant.”

“You are determined to be kind to me.”

“Why should I be otherwise? Shall we join the dancers?”

“I taught dancing at school and my mother taught me. But this is somewhat different.”

“Then we’ll go in and dance our own dance, shall we?”

We did and he fitted his steps to mine. I had always enjoyed dancing and I began to forget the inadequacy of my costume.

“Have you met the prospective bridegroom?” I asked.

“Robert de Grasseville. Yes. He is a pleasant boy.”

“Is he very young?”

“Eighteen or so.”

“I do hope Margot will like him.”

“It’s a good marriage from both families’ point of view. What I mean is she’ll take a good dowry and hell give her a good settlement. It’s supposed to be very desirable when these rich families unite. It makes them bigger and stronger than ever. It will be the marriage of the year. Marguerite is of course the important member of the family.

We’re waiting now to see who will be produced for Etienne. “

“He’ll get a grand marriage too, I suppose.”

“Quite grand … but perhaps there’ll be reservations. There is the bar sinister, remember. I think his marriage is a cause of some contention between his mother and the Comte. It may be that her brother Lucien is here now to discuss just that. What they’re after is to get him legitimized, which the Comte would certainly arrange if he thought he was not going to get a legitimate son.”

“Well, how can he?”

“He’s waiting for the Comtesse to die.”

I shivered.

“Yes,” he went on, ‘it does sound callous, but as I have mentioned to you before, we’re realists. We face the facts . and you can be sure the Comte does. What he would like is to be rid of the Comtesse and marry a healthy young girl and get sons. “

“It’s distasteful to talk like that of the Comtesse while she lies here in the castle.”

“Creaking doors go on creaking for a long time. The very fact that they creak means that they get the best attention and so they go on longer than the strong who aren’t so well looked after.”

I could not bear to talk of the Comtesse, so I changed the subject and said: “So soon there will be a bride for Etienne.”

“Oh yes … but no de Grassevilles for him. Unless he is legitimized, of course. If he were acknowledged as the Comte’s heir it would be a very different matter. You see why his marriage hangs fire.

We used to think that the Comte would have married Gabrielle if he had been free and that would have made things a lot easier. So meanwhile Etienne waits. He would not want a bride with no great prospects and after the marriage find himself heir to a great name and all that goes with it and realize that he had married beneath him. “

“You are cynical. What of yourself?”

“I, Mademoiselle, am a free man. I could choose whom I wished providing she would have me-and none would care very much … unless I chose a lady of a great house and she accepted me. Then there would be trouble from her family. I am sure the Comte would be highly amused. But everyone knows my origins. The lucky peasant. No one will want to marry me but for love.”

I laughed.

“The same would apply to me. Do you know, I

think we are indeed the lucky ones. “

There was a touch on my shoulder. I looked round. The Comte was standing beside us.

“Thank you for looking after my cousin, Leon,” he said. I will take a turn with her myself now. “

It was dismissal. Leon bowed and left me.

The Comte took my hand, surveying my dress while a smile touched his lips.

“I see you, dearest Cousin, attired in your pride,” he said.

“I am sorry if you do not like my dress,” I replied, ‘and if you consider my presence here unsuitable and therefore unwelcome . “

“It is not like you to ask for compliments. You know there is not a guest more suitable in my eyes-or more welcome. The only thing that disappoints me is that we must waste time when there is so little left to us.”

“You speak in enigmas.”

“Which you interpret correctly, and with the utmost ease. Think. We might be together and yet we must’ indulge in this … courtship, would you call it?”

“I certainly would not.”

“What then?”

“Pointless pursuit of which I have no doubt you will soon tire.”

“I assure you I am the tireless hunter. I never give up until I have my prey.”

“There must come a time in the life of every hunter when he suffers his first defeat. This is that occasion for you.”

“Shall we wager on it?”

“I never wager.”

I should love to see you in a glittering gown which I shall have made for you. That is one of Marguerite’s. I recognize it. So you can take from her what you cannot take from me? “

“I bought the dress from her.”

He laughed aloud and I was aware that several people were watching us.

I could imagine the comments.

“Cousin? Who is this cousin?” They would speculate about me in the way I had heard Leon and Etienne doing.

“It was good of you to come to the ball,” he said.

“I’ll warrant Marguerite persuaded you.”

I told her I should shortly be leaving. “

“And she made you change your mind. Good girl.”

“I shall choose the first opportunity to go.”

“I believe you plan to go with her when she marries.”

“She has asked me to but I think I should return to England.”

“Is that gracious after the way we have done everything to try to make you like us?”

“It is you who have made it impossible for me to stay here.”

Oh cruel Cousin! ” he murmured. Then he said: ” You must meet Robert. Come. “

I was eager to do so and when I was presented to a freshfaced young man with a pleasant smile I was agreeably surprised. Marguerite’s description of the greedy little boy had led me to expect a plump self-indulgent young man. Nothing of the sort. Robert de Grasseville was tall and elegant and what pleased me most was the kindly expression on his youthful face.

It occurred to me that he was as apprehensive as Margot and I warmed to him. He talked to me for a while, about horses mainly and the countryside; and Margot was brought to us by her partner in the dance.

She said: “So you have met our cousin. Monsieur de Grasseville?”

It seemed a formal mode of address when they were to be married shortly but it appeared to be correct. He replied that meeting me had been a great pleasure.

The Comte whispered: “I regret I must leave you now. I shall see you later.”

“Let us go in to supper,” suggested Margot. She turned to me. The announcement will be made during it. Minelle, you must come with us.

You and Robert must be friends. “

I was relieved because I could see that she was accepting Robert and prepared to get to know him. I could not, of course, say that they had fallen in love with each other at first sight. That would have been too much to expect; but at least they had not made up their minds to dislike each other.

People were moving towards the new hall where the buffet was laid out, and the elegance of the display again surprised me.

I had never seen food so artistically arranged. There was an abundance of everything and the butlers and footmen in the coloured livery of the Fontaine Delibes household looked as if they were part of the scene, There was wine which I knew came from the Comte’s own vineyards; and I remembered the hungry peasants who were not far away and was relieved that they could not see that table. I looked round for Leon, for I wondered whether the same thought had occurred to him, but I could not see him. I did see Gabrielle, though, with her brother. Gabrielle looked very handsome in a sparkling gown, too flamboyant for my liking, but becoming to her bold good looks. I think Etienne, who was with her, was proud of her.

We sat down at one of the tables near a window. There was Robert, Margot and another young man, a friend of Robert’s.

Conversation was light and easy and I noticed with another rush of relief that Marguerite was not unhappy. Once she had grown accustomed to the idea that a husband would be chosen for her-which she had been brought up to know she must accept-she could not have envisaged a young man more charming than Robert de Grasseville.

During supper the Comte made the announcement. It was received with applause and Margot and Robert went to stand beside him and receive congratulations. I remained at the table talking to my companion, and it was only a few minutes later that a noise behind me made me turn. I was very close to the window and I saw a face there . looking in.

I thought it was Leon’s.

The face disappeared and I was still looking out of the window when a heavy stone struck the glass, shattering it, and came hurtling into the room.

There was a brief silence, then cries of dismay and the sound of breaking glass and crockery.

I stood back horrified. The Comte had rushed to the window and was looking out. Then he shouted to the footman.

“Have the grounds searched. Get out the dogs.”

There was a babel of talk for a few seconds. Then the Comte spoke again.

“It’s apparently nothing much. Some mischievous person at his tricks. Let us carry on as though this tiresome incident had not occurred.”

It was like a command and I was amazed at the manner in which people such as these seemed to obey him without question.

I sat back in my chair. It was the recurring theme, I knew. The dissatisfaction of those who lacked the means to live comfortably, the anger and envy against those who indulged in extravagances.

What was disturbing me more than anything was the memory of the brief glimpse of a face. It couldn’t have been Leon’s.

My companion was saying: They’re making a practice of it. It happened only last week at the DeCourcys’. I was dining there and a stone came right through the window. But that was Paris. “

I saw Leon coming towards me and I felt my heart begin to beat furiously.

“A nasty incident,” he said, taking the chair opposite me.

I glanced at his shoes. They were immaculate. It seemed impossible that a few minutes ago he could have been outside. It had been raining during the day and the grass was still wet, so surely there would have been some sign.

“I hope you were not frightened,” he said to me.

“It happened so quickly.”

“But you were very near the window. In the first line of fire.”

“Who could have done it?” I’ demanded, looking full at him.

“What good could it do?”

“A few years ago one would have said some maniac. Now it is not so.

It’s just another expression of the people’s disapproval. Let us go back to the old hall. They are dancing there. “

I said goodbye to my companion at the table and we went up to the old hall. I felt relieved. I had been mistaken. It could not have been Leon.

I was glad because I was beginning to like him a good deal.

I had retired to my room. My dress lay on the bed and my hair was loose about my shoulders when there was a knock on my door.

I sprang to my feet, thinking for a fearful moment that it might be the Comte.

Margot came in.

“Oh, you are undressed,” she said.

“I had to talk to you, though. I must. I shall never sleep tonight. “

She sat on my bed.

“What did you think of him, Minelle?”

“Robert? Oh, I thought him charming.”

“So did I. It was fun, wasn’t it? I thought he was going to be awful.

You’re right . but of course you are always right, aren’t you. At least you think so. But if you build up a horrible picture you can be agreeably surprised. But I should have liked him anyway. When I was dancing with him I wished . oh, how I wished . that I had never fallen in love with James Wedder. “

“It’s no use wishing that. It’s done and you have to forget it.”

“Do you think I can?”

“Not for ever. It will come back to you sometimes, I suppose.”

“If you’ve made a false step you’ve made it for ever.”

“But it doesn’t do to brood on it.”

“Do you know, Minelle, I think I could forget I had ever seen James Wedder … if it wasn’t for Chariot. What should I do, Minelle? Should I tell Robert?”

I was silent. How could I advise on such a matter? How could I know which would be best for her and Robert’s happiness?

I compromised.

“You should do nothing yet, I think. Wait awhile. In time you and Robert will come to understand each other. Friendship, love, tolerance, all those will grow up between you and when the right times come to tell, perhaps you will know.”

“And Chariot?”

“He is well cared for. I am sure of that.”

“But how can I know? If only I could see him.”

“Well, that’s impossible.”

“You talk like Annette. Nothing is impossible. I shall go to Paris soon. Yes, I shall. I’m going to stay at Papa’s house there and we shall entertain the Grassevilles and then I shall come back here and we’ll be married. You will come to Paris with me. There could be an opportunity then.”

“What are you thinking of?”

“I mean an opportunity of finding Chariot. If I could be convinced that he is well and happy and people are kind to him it would be different.”

“But how could you? You don’t know where he is.”

“We could find out. You and I … we’ll do it, Minelle. Yes, we will.

We will go on a visit to someone . dear old Yvette who used to help Nou-Nou in the nursery. I could go and see her and you could come with me. “

“We should never be allowed to go alone.”

“I have a plan. I have been thinking of it. We could take my maid Mimi and Bessell the groom. Mimi and Bessell are lovers and plan to marry.

I have promised them that when I go to Grasseville, they shall come and they can marry then. They will be so absorbed in each other . that they won’t notice much. In any case they would do anything for me.”

I thought it was a wild plan, but as I had done before, I allowed Margot to go along with her dream. It was on occasions such as this that she could become hysterical and when she did I had noticed that it was almost always where Chariot was concerned.

I would never have suspected Margot of having deep maternal feelings, but she was always unpredictable; and I supposed that even those who would on the surface seem to make the most unlikely mothers, change once a child is born to them.

So eagerly did she discuss the plan that she scarcely mentioned the stone through the window.

“Oh that,” she said eventually.

“It’s happening all over the country.

People take little notice of it. “

At last she went. I felt tired but unable to sleep and when I did I dreamed vague and ugly dreams, but of which Leon’s face, distorted with hatred, kept coming towards me.

The household was now dominated by plans for Margot’s wedding. Annette declared herself to be distracted. She would never, never finish in time, she declared. Materials were not the right colours; nothing fitted as it should and Margot’s wardrobe would be a disaster.

Meanwhile beautiful garments continued to be turned out.

Margot was gleeful parading for me in them. She wanted to give me some of her old garments which Annette could ‘tone up’ as she called it. I bought a few and under Annette’s tuition made some alterations myself.

“You will need some clothes when we go to Paris,” said Margot, and whenever she mentioned the trip her eyes would sparkle and I knew she was thinking of what she called ‘the plan’.

We rode a good deal. She, Leon, Etienne and I. Sometimes the Comte joined us and when he did he always contrived to lose the others so that he and I were alone. They were aware of his intentions and as usual tried to please him. Against four of them I was helpless so I often found myself alone with him.

“And so we go on,” he said to me one day.

“We do not progress very fast, do we?”

“In what way?”

Towards the blissful end which awaits us both. “

“You are in a mocking mood, I see.”

“I am always in an excellent mood when I am with you. That is a good augury for the future.”

“It certainly shows that you can be good-humoured when you wish.”

“No, only when I am happy and that is not always for me to decide.”

“I should have thought a man such as you could control his moods.”

“It is something I have never learned to do. Perhaps you will teach me, because you control yours admirably. Were you disturbed on the night of the ball when the stone came through the window?”

“I was horrified.”

“Some wretched peasant.”

“Have you any idea who?”

“It could have been anyone from the neighbouring villages.”

“Your own vassals.”

“What an expression! Yes, it might well have been one of my own vassals. In fact, I’d wager that it was.”

“And it disturbs you.”

“A broken window is a bagatelle. It is the implication behind it which disturbs. Sometimes I feel as though the entire structure of society is slipping.”

“Can you not do something to make it steady?”

He shook his head.

“Something should have been done fifty years ago.

Perhaps we shall come through this. God knows my country has been buffeted enough over the centuries . yours too. You people are different. Less fiery. It may well be that they would pause long enough to ask themselves what the consequences of revolution would be.

We are more impulsive. You see the difference in our natures . reflected in you and me. You are calm; you hide the tumult within. You are adept at it. I’ll warrant your mother taught you that it was ill-bred to show your feelings. Oh, Minelle, I would give a great deal to go off with you . alone . to some remote spot. out of prance . perhaps to an island somewhere in the middle of a blue tropical sea where you and I would be together . alone. So much to do . so much to talk of . There we could live and love in peace. “

I was deeply touched by his serious mood, but he was right. I had been taught to hide my feelings when my judgement told me it would be wise to do so. I said: “I am sure you would be weary of your island in less than a week. In fact I hardly think you would give it as long.”

“Let us try it and see if you are right. Shall we?”

“Such a question does not need an answer. You must know that I am going to leave here. I am staying only until Margot is happily settled. Then I shall go back to England.”

“And penury.”

“I may be fortunate. I am not without qualifications.”

“No. I am sure you would make a success of whatever you set your mind to. You would have continued with the school but for that stupid oaf Joel. What a fool! Perhaps one day he will realize what he has missed and come back to try again. There is one question I want to ask you, Minelle, and I want a. serious answer. I know that you disapprove of my way of life. Believe me, it is a matter of upbringing. I live as my ancestors have lived. It is the custom of the regime. You have been brought up differently. To you I seem excessively wicked … immoral and ruthless. Admit it.”

“I admit it,” I said.

“And yet, tell the truth, Minelle, you are not without some regard for me?”

I paused and he went on: “Come. You are not afraid to tell the truth, are you?”

“I believe,” I replied, ‘that when a man expresses admiration for a woman, he so appeals to her vanity that it is hard for her not to feel favourably towards one whom-if she is honest-she must admire for his good taste. For there is none who, in her heart, despises herself.”

He laughed again.

“Enchanting as ever, my dearest Minelle,” he said, “So in admiring you I have won a little of your approval. You know the extent of my ” admiration so I deserve a great deal of your esteem. “

“I could never trust you,” I said seriously.

“You have loved many women.”

“Experience is always valuable-no matter in what field and mine teaches me that I have never loved anyone as I love you.”

“The current one is always the most loved,” I said.

“You have become a cynic.”

“No. I am learning to be a realist.”

“Sometimes-life being what it is-it’s the same thing. But you still do not answer my question. I have a wife. I am not free to marry therefore. If I were …”

“But you are not free …”

“I may be … some day. I am asking you to tell me what your answer would be if I came to you with an honourable proposal of marriage.”

“Which you would not offer if you were free to because you must see that a marriage between us would be highly unsuitable.”

“I think it would be the most suitable that was ever made.”

“What! The noble count and the failed schoolmistress.”

“He is in great need of the tuition she will give him.”

“You are laughing at me.”

“No,” he said seriously.

“I want you to teach me how to be humble and human, how to enjoy what is best in life. I want you to show me how to be happy.”

“You have a high opinion of my qualifications.”

“But I am sure I assess them correctly. You see how I dote on you. Do your feelings for me increase as you discover what mine are for you?”

“I am suspicious. I know that you are adept at getting what you want from women. It must be interesting to discover various ways of wooing them.”

“You misjudge me. Moreover I suspect you of evading the question. You do not dislike me?”

“You must know that I do not.”

“I believe you enjoy these encounters, these verbal fireworks. Do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Ah. I have wrung an admission from you. I have the impression that you continually seek to evade me which can only be because I am not free to make an honourable proposal of marriage to you and your upbringing would not allow you to accept any other. That’s true, is it not?”

Once more I hesitated too long.

He said: “You have answered me.”

We cantered back to the castle side by side.

IV

“Cousin!”

The voice floated down to me, light, scarcely audible in the evening air. I had taken a short walk out of doors in the castle gardens.

Looking up, I saw the Comtesse stretched out on a chaise-longue on the balcony above me.

“Madame?” I said, standing still and gazing up.

Her pale face looked down at me.

“Could I interrupt your walk? I should like to speak to you.”

“Certainly.”

“Come up. The steps will lead you right up to the terrace.”

I did as she bid me, feeling a little disturbed which was understandable considering the attitude her husband had taken towards me.

I mounted the stone steps. She was right. They did take me to her terrace which jutted out from her bedchamber. This was of course not the medieval part of the castle, but part of the comfortable, luxurious later addition.

“It has been warm today,” she said.

“I thought a little air would be good for me.” She smiled at me.

“It must seem odd to someone as healthy as you are to hear people speak continually of their health.

Do sit down. “

I sat.

“I suppose when one has good health one is inclined to take it for granted and forget about it,” I answered.

“Exactly. How fortunate not to have to worry all the time what effect things are going to have on you. It is easy to see you enjoy good health. Cousin. Tell me, how are you getting on here? Does it seem strange to you after your school? I am grateful for what you are doing for my daughter.”

“It is what I am paid to do, Madame.”

“But may I say you are doing it very well indeed.” She shifted on her couch.

“I think the air has given me a headache. I shall have to ask Nou-Nou to prepare a poultice to lay across my forehead. She has an excellent one made from Jupiter’s Beard. You look puzzled. You are wondering what that is. One can’t live with Nou-Nou without learning about these things. It’s one of her special plants and like so many of them it is said to be a talisman against evil spells. I can see, Cousin, that you are sceptical. Do you not believe in evil spells?”

“I don’t think I do.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean that a witch is involved with weird incantations and so on. Evil spells can come about in the most natural ways. There are some people who never bring good to anyone. They could be said to give out evil.”

“I suppose that could be true.”

“It is always well to avoid such people. Don’t you agree, Cousin?”

I wished she would not call me “Cousin’. She did it with a certain irony. There was something behind it; something behind her desire to see me.

“Certainly it would be,” I agreed.

“I knew you would share my view. You are such a sensible young woman.

Margot talks a great deal about you. She thinks you are the fount of wisdom. gather that my husband has quite a good opinion of your capabilities. “

“I was unaware of that,” I said.

“Unaware of my husband’s opinion? Is that really so?”

“I… I did not know his opinion of me.”

She smiled slowly.

“I felt sure he had made it clear that he finds your company interesting. He does like the society of women … if they are young, handsome and not without some intelligence. They become flattered and forget his position and that with him it is but a fleeting interest.”

“I could never forget the Comte’s position … nor my own,” I said sharply.

She looked down at her delicate hands.

“He is my husband, after all,” she said.

“That is something he cannot forget, though others might.”

’ should never forget that, Madame;’ I retorted. I was uncomfortable, embarrassed and angry. I wanted to convey that her husband was perfectly safe from me.p>

“I can see you are sensible,” she commented.

Thank you. I shall shortly be returning to England. “

“Ah!” It was a long-drawn-out sigh.

“I think that is very wise of you.” She was silent for a few moments and I had the impression that she regretted having spoken so frankly. She went on conversationally:

“From what Margot tells me it is rather different in England.”

“Yes indeed.”

“I scarcely move from here,” she went on.

“With my husband it is different, of course. It is rarely that I have known him stay in the chateau for such a long time. He is restless. Moreover, it is necessary for him to spend a great deal of time in Paris … while I stay here with NouNou.”

“Who, I know, is a great comfort to you.”

“I can’t think what I should do without her. She is my friend, my companion, my watchdog.” She waved her hand.

“When darkness falls I feel afraid. I always did in the dark. Do you. Cousin?”

“No,” I replied.

“You are brave. I knew you would be. I have often watched you in the garden … you and Margot together. And I have seen you come in from riding with my husband. Well, Margot will soon be married and you will go back to England. That is for the best. Cousin. I am glad you see it so. I should like your adventure in my country to bring you happy memories when you go back to England.” She was looking at me steadily.

A moment ago she had been warning me to keep away from her husband as any jealous wife might. That was reasonable. After all, he was her husband. Now her warning was of a different kind. What had she meant about Nou-Nou’s being her watchdog? The Comte is a dangerous man, she was telling me. Be wary of him. She had no need to tell me that. “Yes,” she repeated, ‘you should go back to your own country. There is nothing good for you here. Oh dear! ” She put her hand to her head.

“My head throbs so. Go into the room and find Nou-Nou. Ask her to make up the Jupiter’s J Beard poultice, will you?”

” It was dismissal. I went through the glass doors into the room.

Nou-Nou came bustling in and I gave the order.

She tut-tutted.

“Called you up, did she? She knows it tires her to talk. And she would go out. I knew it was not good for her. Headache, is it? My Jupiter’s Beard will soon put paid to that. You came up by the garden stairs, I suppose?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, you can go back that way if you like. Tell her I’ll have her poultice in next to no time, and first I’m going to bring her in.”

I went out on to the terrace. The Comtesse was lying back with her eyes closed. It was an indication that she had nothing more to Say to me and I was dismissed.

I was still smouldering with anger and humiliation. When I was with her I had not realized the enormity of what she was hinting. First she had warned me to keep off her husband because he was married to her and not free to dally with me. How insulting I As if I were not aware of that! Then she had changed her mood and warned me against him, which had seemed quite sinister, as though there were some dark forces in him of which I was unaware.

It was very disconcerting and brought home to me more forcibly than ever that I must prepare to go.

I thought a good deal about the Comtesse. If I were uneasy about her she certainly was about me. Perhaps some gossip had reached her. It must have, since she had seen fit to give me her twofold warning.

She was certainly right. Iought to get away. In fact I should not have stayed so long. Nor could I have done, I justified myself, if Margot had not been so unhappy every time I suggested leaving.

I did not want to talk to Margot. I was afraid she would bring up the subject. Not that it was difficult to avoid it.

Margot was too full of her own affairs to want to discuss anyone else’s.

Nevertheless, I had taken to going out alone, usually in the garden, and finding some quiet spot where I could be alone to think.

When I had been with the Comtesse I had felt guilty. Yet I had done nothing to attract the Comte. Nou-Nou had a way of looking at me from under her bushy brows as though I were Jezebel herself. She made me feel that I should get away without delay, even before Margot’s wedding.

It was an impossible situation and had it been presented to me as someone else’s problem a year ago I should have said: “The woman is doing wrong by staying. Any decent person would leave at once.”

Of course it was what I should do. My interview with the Comtesse had brought that home more vividly than before.

I had walked beyond the castle precincts and found myself close to Gabrielle’s house. His mistress! And she lived near the chateau so that they could meet conveniently. I flushed with shame. And this was the man whom I had allowed to take possession of my thoughts!

I was startled by the sound of horse’s hoofs. I went close to the hedge as a rider passed by. There was something familiar about him, although I could not think what.

Gabrielle’s house came into view. The man was tethering his horse to the block at her gate. As I came along he turned and we looked full at each other. He looked a little startled and in that flash it was obvious that we were both thinking that we had seen each other somewhere before.

He opened the gate and went up the park to the house. I walked on.

Then my heart started to thump with apprehension. I had remembered who the man was.

He was Gaston the lover of Jeanne the servant at Madame Gremond’s.

I did not mention to Margot the tact that I had seen Gaston. It could only disturb her. I even tried to convince myself that I had been mistaken. After all, I had not seen a great deal of the man when we were at Madame Gremond’s. This could have been someone who bore a resemblance to him.

There was no real distinguishing feature about him. What should he have been doing at Madame LeGrand Taking letters from his mistress?

Was it possible then that Madame Gremond and Madame LeGrand knew each other? Of course it was possible. Their connecting link would be the Comte. Two discarded mistresses condoling with each other. Or perhaps not discarded? It was becoming more and more sordid every day.

But I could not, of course, be sure of this and I preferred to think I had made a mistake.

While I was pondering on this, Etienne came to me and told me that his mother had expressed the wish that I should call on her again and he wondered whether I would allow him to take me to her.

I said I should be delighted to call and a few days later, one afternoon, I rode with him to her house.

I was taken into the ornate salon where she was waiting to receive me, very elegant but slightly overdressed in pale blue silk and lace.

“Mademoiselle Maddox,” she cried warmly, ‘how enchanted I am to see you. It was good of you to call. “

“I am pleased to be asked,” I replied, glad as I had often been of my well-cut riding habit which my mother had had made for me. The fact that I had ridden over meant that it was quite right for me to be wearing it.

Etienne left us and I realized that this was going to be a teteatete.

She said we should have Ie the because she knew how the English loved it.

“Have you noticed how we in France are imitating the English more and more? It is a form of flattery. But you would not have noticed it here. It is in Paris that it is obvious. In the shops there are signs ” English spoken here” and the lemonade sellers sell Ie Punch. That is English, as you know. The young men swagger round in English coats with capes. The women are wearing English hats and even the racecourse at Vincennes tries to be like your Newmarket.”

“I did not know this.”

There is much you have yet to learn of France, I feel sure. Then there are those tall vehicles they call “Whiskies”

I can tell you we are becoming more and more English every day. “

“That is very interesting.”

“You will see this when you go to Paris. You are going, I believe, with Marguerite.”

“Yes, that is so.”

“Such a good marriage, this. The Comte tells me that he is delighted with it. An alliance between Fontaine Delibes and Grasseville. Little could be better.”

The tea was brought in by one of the lackeys whose livery was very like the chateau colours slightly more muted, slightly less grand with silver buttons instead of gold. I could not help but be amused by the fine distinction.

“Mademoiselle smiled. The tea is to your liking?”

It is excellent, Madame. ” And so it was, served in little dishes of Sevres china, though somewhat unlike our home brew.

Small pastries were served with it They had delicious fillings of some cream concoction.

“I thought we should become better acquainted,” said Gabrielle LeGrand

“I saw you at the ball, of course, but one cannot really talk to people on such occasions. Was it not disgraceful … the stone through the window? I would not care to be in the culprit’s shoes if he were discovered. The Comte would have little mercy on him and he can be a stem man.”

“Do you think they will find him?”

Leon’s face swam before me and I admonished myself:

Don’t be silly. It was an illusion. Of course it wasn’t Leon. How could it have been? He could not have been in the ballroom so soon after, looking so fresh. I seemed to be developing a bent for imagining I saw people when it could hardly be likely that I had.

“I doubt it now. Unless one of his enemies betrays him. That sort of thing is happening all over the country. I don’t know what things are coming to. Are you staying in France, Mademoiselle? “

“I shall be with Marguerite for a while and when she marries return to England.”

She could not hide her relief. She said quickly: “How interesting it must have been to discover your connection with the Comte’s family … however remote.”

I did not answer and she went on: “Do tell me who exactly it was who married into the family. All the time I have known the Fontaine Delibes I have never before heard there was an English connection.”

“You must ask the Comte,” I said.

I see less of him nowadays. ” She sighed.

“There was a time … It was a great mistake he made in his marriage. You have met the Comtesse, of course.”

“Yes,” I answered coolly. I felt she was extremely tactless to mention the Comte’s marriage in this way.

“I ask,” she said, ‘because I know she lives a life of retirement. I gather she sees few’ people Poor Ursule! Anyone should have known how disastrous that would be. He used to confide in me . a great deal.

There is no point in attempting to hide the truth of our relationship when it is obvious for all to see. We have a fine son . our Etienne. And from her there was simply Marguerite. I will tell you in confidence that he has never ceased to regret that he did not marry me.”

“Why did he not?” I asked coldly.

“My family was a good one but of course not to be compared with his. I was a widow.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“He was young then … very young. We both were. I shall never forget those days. How much in love we were!” She laughed.

“I see you are a little shocked. The English do not talk as freely of these matters as we do. Ah, it was a tragic mistake and he was to realize that again and again.”

“These cakes are delicious, Madame. You must have an excellent cook.”

“I am glad you like them. They are favourites of the Comte. But one can never be sure how long he will like something. He is fickle in his tastes.”

“They are so light,” I said.

“They make one quite greedy.”

Then do have some more. Etienne is fond of them. We are planning a marriage for him, but he is in no hurry. “

“It is never wise to hurry when important matters are planned.”

“One of these days … who knows … Etienne has been brought up in the chateau, you know.”

“Yes, I did know.”

“The Comte is proud of him. He is a good-looking young man, do you not think so?”

“Indeed I do. He is very handsome.”

“One day who shall say what his future will be?”

That is something none of us can see . the future. “

I found a certain mischievous pleasure in thwarting her by keeping the conversation on general lines when I knew she was trying to make it personal. I understood her motive well. Like the Comtesse, she was warning me. But her motive was rather different. I believed that the Comtesse was a little concerned for me, while Gabrielle was concerned for herself.

“But we can predict,” she said.

“If one has known someone for a very long time one knows how that person will act in certain circumstances.

Don’t you agree? “

I said I thought one could hazard a guess but as so many people were unpredictable one could never be entirely sure. She nodded.

“It has been a strange life. I met the Comte when I was a very young widow. I came to plead for my father who had been imprisoned by his. The Comte could not do enough for me. My father had died in prison accused of I know not what nor did he.”

“Yes,” I said.

“I have heard of those fearful lettres de cachet.”

“I think one of the reasons the Comte regrets not marrying me is that it would have done something towards righting the wrong his father did to mine. He once said that he wished he could have the opportunity over again and if ever he did …”

I nodded.

“It was a terrible injustice which was done to your father.”

“He is a strange man … Charles Auguste. He has these flashes of conscience. Look at Leon. He has certainly benefited from the harm done to his family. I suppose we shall go on as before. Etienne will, I know, be legitimized. That has been more or less promised … providing of course Charles Auguste doesn’t marry and get a legitimate son. But he can’t do that while he has a wife, can he?”

“It is certainly a very complicated matter,” I said.

“And who shall say how it will end.”

“And you will soon be leaving us and forgetting all about us and our problems.” Her eyes glittered, seeming to look into my mind. It was almost as though she were commanding me to go.

Then she insisted on showing me her treasures, chief among them a beautiful clock of gold and ivory made in the shape of a castle. It was very elaborate but quite beautiful.

“A gift from the Comte when Etienne was born,” she explained. Then she showed me other treasures-all gifts from the Comte.

“A very generous man,” she commented, ‘to those for whom he feels deeply. Mind you, there have been some whose reign has been brief . very brief. Those have been quickly dismissd and forgotten. “

“How sad for them,” I said wryly, ‘unless they were glad to to depart.”

She looked at me in some puzzlement. I could see she did not understand me.

I was relieved when Etienne arrived to accompany me back to the castle.

He said: “I will take you by a way I am sure you have not yet discovered. It is a very private short cut to the castle from the house. The Comte had it made eighteen years ago.”

The pathway led from the garden through a wood and I was astonished how quickly we reached the castle.

“Why is it so little used?” I asked.

“When it was first made the Comte let it be known that it was for his use and my mother’s only. Consequently people kept away. And it has become the rule.”

We had arrived at the castle wall. There was a door through which we went and we were in a courtyard. I had never entered the castle that way before.

It was late afternoon when Nou-Nou came to my room. She gave a sharp peremptory knock on the door and without waiting for permission to enter, did so.

“The Comtesse wishes to see you,” she said, looking at me in a scornful way which was calculated to make me feel uncomfortable and certainly did.

I stood up.

“Not now. At eight o’clock this evening. She has something she wants to say to you.”

I said I would present myself at that time.

“Don’t be late. I like to get her settled down for the night before nine o’clock.”

“I shall not be late,” I promised.

She nodded and left me.

Strange old woman, I thought. A little mad as all people with obsessions were. In her case, though, it was a selfless obsession. I fell to thinking of poor Nou-Nou who had lost her husband and child and turned to Ursule for comfort. There was no doubt that she had found it to a certain extent.

I wondered about Ursule’s childhood before she had become an invalid and how she could be content to live the life she did shut away from the world. It was as though she embraced this life with relish simply because it meant that in doing so she had escaped from her husband.

How she must hate him! Perhaps it was fear more than hatred. What had he done to inspire such terror? Nou-Nou seemed as though she knew something. I had no doubt that Ursule confided in her. That he would neglect her if she did not interest him, I knew. That he would feel cheated because she could not provide the essential son, I could understand. That he took his mistresses openly and even had one living a stone’s throw from the chateau was a fact. But should this make her fear him?

There was so much I wanted to know about Ursule.

A few minutes before eight o’clock I made my way to her room. It was a little early and knowing what a stickler for time Nou-Nou was, I hung back in the corridor looking out of the window waiting for those few moments to pass.

Eight o’clock precisely.

I went to the door which was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and looked in. There was a draught from the door which opened on to the terrace. I was just in time to catch a glimpse of the back of the Comte as he disappeared.

I was relieved that I had not come earlier when I should have met him in his wife’s room. That could have been embarrassing.

I tiptoed to the bed.

“Madame,” I began. Then I paused. The Comtesse was lying back on her pillows, her eyes half closed. She was clearly very drowsy.

“You wanted to see me, Madame?”

Her eyes were completely closed now. She seemed to be asleep.

I felt uneasy and wondered why she had not cancelled our appointment if she was too tired to see me. On the table beside the bed was the usual array of bottles. A glass stood there. I picked it up and smelt it, for there were the dregs of something in the bottom of the glass.

Clearly the Comtesse had taken her sleeping draught which she probably did when she was about to retire. But she must have known how long it took to work, and how strange that she should have taken it in time to send her to sleep when she had asked me to come and see her.

As I stood there I heard a movement behind me. NouNou came in. She looked at the glass in my hand.

“I was to see Madame at eight,” I said, replacing the glass on the table.

Nou-Nou gazed at the sleeping woman and the change in her expression was marked.

“Poor lamb,” she said.

“She was tired out. He has been.

in. I suppose he tired her . as he always does. She must have dropped off to sleep . suddenly. “

“You will tell her when she awakes that I came, will you?”

Nou-Nou nodded.

“Perhaps she will say if she wants to see me tomorrow.”

Nou-Nou said: “We shall see how she feels.”

“Goodnight,” I said, and went out.

The next day lived vividly in my memory.

I awoke as usual when one of the serving maids brought in my hot water and put it into the ruelle. I washed and took the coffee and brioche which was brought to my room.

Margot came as she often did, bringing her tray with her and we took our petit dejeuner together.

We talked of the proposed trip to Paris and I was glad that she did not mention Chariot. It was comforting to know that her coming marriage had helped her when I had so much feared it would have the reverse effect.

While we were chatting together the door opened and the Comte entered.

I had never seen him distraught before, but he certainly was then.

He looked from one to the other of us and then he said:

“Marguerite, your mother is dead.”

I felt a cold horror grip me. I began to tremble and was afraid it would be noticed.

“She must have died during the night,” he said.

“NouNou has just discovered this.”

He did not meet my eyes and I was terribly afraid.

There was tension throughout the castle. The servants were whispering together. I wondered what they were saying. The relationship which existed between the Comte and his wife was well known to them and they must all have been aware of the fact that he wished he were free of her.

Margot came to me.

“I must talk to you, Minelle,” she said. It is terrible. She is dead.

It has suddenly struck me. She was my mother . but I scarcely knew her. She never seemed to want me with her. I always believed, when I was little, that I was the cause, of her illness. Nou-Nou seemed to think so too. Poor NouNou! She is just sitting beside her rocking to and fro. She mutters to herself and then throws her apron over her face. All I can hear is “Ursule mignon ne

“Margot,” I said, ‘how did it happen? “

“She has been delicate for a long time, hasn’t she?” Margot replied almost defensively, and I wondered what she was thinking.

“Perhaps,” she went on, ‘she was more ill than we thought. We believed really that she fancied she was ill all the time. “

The doctors came during the day. They were with the Comte in the chamber of death for a long time.

The Comte asked me to join him in the library and I went full of foreboding.

“Please sit, Minelle,” he said.

“This is an unexpected shock.”

Those words brought me an immense relief.

“I have always suspected that the Comtesse’s illness was imaginary,” he went on.

“It seems I did her an injustice. She was really ill.”

“What was her illness?”

He shook his head.

“The doctors are bewildered. They are not certain what caused her death. Nou-Nou is too distraite to talk. She has been with her since her birth and was completely devoted to her. I’m afraid this shock is going to be too much for her.”

I waited for him to go on but for once he seemed at a loss for words.

Then he said slowly: There will be an autopsy. “

I looked at him in astonishment.

“It is the custom,” he said, ‘when the cause of death is uncertain.

The doctors have formed the opinion, though, that she died of something she had taken. “

“It can’t be!” I cried.

“She looks peaceful,” he said.

“Of one thing we can be certain. She did not die painfully. It seems she went off in a peaceful sleep from which she has not awakened.”

“Was it a draught to make her sleep, do you think?”

“It may be so. Nou-Nou is too upset to speak to us yet. Tomorrow she will have recovered a little and may be able to help. I believe Ursule was in the habit of taking some draught at bedtime.” His eyes did not leave my face. They glittered brightly and I avoided looking directly at him. The fear was strong in me.

“It is going to be rather a difficult time,” he said.

“This sort of thing can be very unpleasant. There will be a great deal of speculation. There always is when anyone dies suddenly. And the circumstances …”

I nodded.

“Nou-Nou will know whether she took a sleeping draught.”

“Nou-Nou would prepare it for her. I am sure when she is able to talk we may understand how this happened.”

“Do you think that the Comtesse …”

“That she did it deliberately? No, I don’t think so. I think there has been some terrible mistake. But we can reach no conclusions through conjecture. This may be unpleasant, as I said, and I should prefer you and Marguerite not to be here. Make your preparations to leave for Paris. I think you should go immediately after the autopsy.” He paused, then went on briskly: “Now, I do not think you should remain here with me long.” He smiled at me wryly, and I knew what was in his mind. His wife had died suddenly and his interest in me was obvious. I could see that we should both be under suspicion.

“Send Marguerite to me,” he added.

“I will warn her

that she must be ready to leave for Paris fairly soon. “

That was a week of nightmare. Suspicion was rife and I was at the heart of it. I wondered what would happen if the Comte was accused of murder . or I was. I could hear accusing voices asking me about my relationship with the Comte. I was his cousin, was I? Would I please explain.

The Comte was less disturbed than I. He was confident that there would be some explanation. There was a distressing scene with Nou-Nou who came to my room one night when I was preparing for bed.

She looked terribly ill. I was sure she had not slept since the death of the Comtesse. She was hollow-eyed and had not brushed or combed her hair, it hung, half up, half down, in straggling grey strands about her face. Clutching a bed-gown about her, she looked like a spectre.

She said to me: “You do well to look guilty. Mademoiselle.”

I replied: “Guilt! I neither look nor feel guilty. You must know that, NouNou.”

“It was her bedtime dose,” she said.

“I used to give it to her when she couldn’t sleep. I knew just how much was needed to send her off.

That night she had had a treble dose. It should have taken an hour to have effect . but she was sleeping when I came in . You were there that night. He was there too. The two of you. “

“She was asleep when I came in. You know that. It was just eight o’clock.”

“I didn’t know enough of what was going on. There was her dose there by the bed. Well, someone added to it, didn’t they? Someone who crept in …”

“I tell you she was asleep when I came…”

“I came out and found you with the glass in your hand.”

This is absurd. I had only just come into the room. “

There was somebody else there, wasn’t there? You know that. “

I felt the blood rushing into my cheeks.

“What… are you suggesting?”

“Doses don’t get into glasses without being put there, do they?

Someone did it. someone in this house. “

For a moment I was too stunned to reply. I kept thinking of that moment when I had seen the Comte slipping out through the french window on to the terrace. How long had he been with her? Long enough to give her the dose . to wait while she drank it? Oh, no, I told myself. I won’t believe it.

I stammered: “You don’t know the cause of her death. It has not yet been proved.”

Her eyes glittered and she looked at me steadily.

“I know,” she said.

She came close to me and, laying a hand on my arm, peered into my face.

“If she’d never married, she’d be alive today. She’d be her bonny self just as she used to be before her wedding. I remember the night before that wedding. I couldn’t comfort her. Oh, these marriages. Why can’t they let children be children till they know what life’s about!”

In spite of the horrible fear which would not leave me, in spite of the shock of realizing how deeply involved I was, I felt sorry for Nou-Nou. It seemed that the death of her beloved charge had unhinged her mind. Something had gone out of her. The fierce dragon guarding her treasure had become a sad creature only wanting to crawl into a corner and die. She was looking round to blame someone. She hated the Comte and her venom was directed mainly against him, but because it was known that he had a fondness for me, she let it fall on me too.

“Oh, Nou-Nou,” I said, the compassion I felt for her obvious in my voice, “I am so sorry this has happened.”

She looked at me slyly.

“Perhaps you think it makes it easier for you, eh? Perhaps you think that now she is out of the way …”

“Nou-Nou!” I cried sharply.

“Stop that wicked talk.”

“You’ll have a shock.” She began to laugh; it was horrible laughter, at times like the cackle of a hen. Then she stopped suddenly.

“You and he plot together …”

“You must not say such things. They are absolutely false. Let me take you back to your room. You need rest. This has been a terrible shock for you.”

Suddenly she started to cry-silently, the tears streaming down her face.

“She was everything to me,” she said.

“My little lamb, my darling baby. All I’d got. I never took to any other. It was always my little mignon ne

“I know,” I said.

“But I’ve lost her. She’s not there any more.”

“Come, Nou-Nou.” I took her arm and led her back to her room.

When we were there she broke away from me.

I shall go to her,” she said; and she went into that room where the body of the Comtesse lay.

They were difficult days to live through. I saw little of the Comte.

He avoided me, which was wise, because there were whispers about him and it was likely that my name was being linked with his.

I rode out with Marguerite, Etienne and Leon and as we passed close to a village a stone was thrown at us. It hit Etienne on the arm but I think it was meant for me.

“Murderess I’ shouted a voice.

We saw a group of young men and we knew the missile had come from them. Etienne was for giving chase but Leon deterred him.

“Better be careful,” Leon advised.

“This could start a riot. Ignore it.”

They need to be taught a lesson. “

“We must take care,” said Leon, ‘that they do not attempt to teach us one. “

After that I felt reluctant to go out.

We could not leave the chateau until after the autopsy and because of the Comte’s position this aroused a good deal of attention. I was terribly afraid because I knew it had already been decided that he had murdered his wife.

I was greatly relieved to hear that I should not be expected to appear. I feared a probing into the reason why I had come to France and what would happen if Marguerite’s indiscretion had come to light?

How would Robert de Grasseville react? Would he want to marry her then? I sometimes felt it would have been better for her to make a complete confession to him but on the other hand I did not consider myself sufficiently worldly to know whether this would be wise.

The Comte returned in due course. The affair was over and the verdict was that the cause of death was the overdose of a sleeping draught which contained opium in excessive quantities. The Comtesse was discovered to have suffered from a disease of the lungs a disease from which it was recalled her mother had died. Doctors had visited her recently and had expressed their certainty that she was suffering from this disease in its early stages. If the Comtesse had known of this she would also have known that later she would have to endure great pain. The most likely verdict was that, knowing this, she had taken her own life by drinking a large quantity of a sleeping draught which she had been taking in small doses for some time, and which when taken thus could produce gentle sleep and be quite harmless.

The day he returned Nou-Nou paid one of her visits to my bedroom. She seemed to take a delight in my discomfiture.

“So,” she said, ‘you think this is the end of the matter, do you.

Mademoiselle? “

“The law is satisfied,” I said.

The law! Who is the law? Who has always been the law? He has . he and his kind. One law for the rich . one for the poor. That’s what the trouble’s about. He has his friends . all over the place. ” She stepped nearer to me.

“He came to me and he threatened me. He said:

“Stop your scandalous gossip, Nou-Nou. If you don’t you can get out.

And where would you go then, tell me that? Do you want to be sent away away from the rooms where she lived . away from her tomb where you can weep and revel in your mourning? ” Yes, that’s what he said. I said to him:

“You were there. You came into the room. You were with her. And then that woman came, didn’t she? Did she come to see if you’d done what you planned together? …”

“Stop it, Nou-Nou,” I said.

“You know I came because she said she wanted to see me. You yourself brought the message. She was already asleep when he left.”

“You saw him go, didn’t you? You came in … just as he was going. Oh, it’s a strange business, I’d say.”

“It’s not strange at all, Nou-Nou,” I said firmly.

“And you know it.”

She looked startled.

“What is it you’re so sure of?”

“I know this,” I replied.

“The verdict has been given. I believe it because it is the only possible one.”

She started to laugh wildly. I took her arm and shook it.

“Nou-Nou, go back to your room. Try to rest. Try to be calm. This is a terrible tragedy, but it is over and no good can come by dwelling on it.”

“It’s over for some,” she said mournfully.

“Life is over for some … for mignon ne and her old Nou-Nou. Others think it is just beginning for them perhaps.”

I shook my head angrily and she sat down suddenly and covered her face with her hands.

After a while she allowed me to take her back to her room.

It was I who found the stone with the paper attached to it. It was lying in the corridor outside my bedroom. I saw first that the window had been smashed and there on the floor was this object.

I picked it up. It was a heavy stone and stuck on it was the piece of paper. On this was written in uneven script: “Aristocrat. You murdered your wife but it is one law for the rich, one for the poor. Take heed.

Your time will come. “

I stood there for some horrified seconds with the paper in my hand.

Perhaps it was wrong of me but I always made quick decisions, though not always the right ones. I decided then that no one in the castle should see that paper.

I put the stone back on the floor and took the paper into my bedchamber. I spread it out and studied it. The writing was uneven but I had a notion that an attempt had been made to convey the impression of near-illiteracy. I felt the paper. It was strong stout stuff. Not the kind which poor people would use to write their letters on, even if they could write. It was of a shade of blue so pale as to be almost white.

There was a bureau in my bedroom and in this were sheets of notepaper headed with the address of the castle in elegant gold letters. The paper was of the same texture as the notepaper used in the castle. It could have been torn off from a piece of this.

There must be something significant in this. Could it be possible that someone in the castle was the Comte’s bitter enemy?

I thought, as I always did at times like this, of my mother. I could almost hear her saying to me: “Get out. There’s danger all around you.

You have already become embroiled in this household and it must stop without delay. Go back to’j England.

Take a post as companion . governess . or; better still open a school. “

She is right, I thought, I am becoming too much affected by the Comte.

He has cast a spell on me in some way. I was trying not to believe that he had slipped the fatal dose into the Comtesse’s glass, but I could not with honesty say that I did not doubt him.

Margot was at the door.

“Another stone has been thrown through a window,” she announced.

“It’s just outside here.”

I rose and went to look at it.

Margot shrugged her shoulders.

“Stupid people. What do they think they are going to achieve by that?”

She was not deeply affected. This sort of thing was becoming a commonplace.

The Comte sent for Margot and me. He looked older, sterner than he had before his wife’s death.

“I want you to leave for Paris tomorrow,” he said.

“I think that would be best. I have had a note from the Grassevilles. They would like you to visit them but I think it better that you stay in my Paris residence. You are in mourning. The Grassevilles will visit you there.

You can shop for what you need. ” He turned to me suddenly.

“I rely on you to look after Marguerite.”

I wondered whether I should tell him of the note which had come through the window attached to the stone but I felt it would only add to his anxieties and I did not care to mention it before Margot. I hoped to see him alone before I left, but I realized that he was aware how closely we were watched. He would know too that it was being said he had escaped justice because he had friends in high places.

I went to my room to make my preparations. I took the piece of paper from the drawer and looked at it, wondering what I should do. I could not leave it and yet what if I took it with me and mislaid it? I made one of my sudden decisions. I tore it into scraps and taking it down to the hall where a fire was burning, I threw it in. I watched the flames curl about the blackened edges. It seemed to form itself into a malevolent face and I was immediately reminded

The Waiting City of that one I had seen outside the window on the night of the ball.

Leon! And the paper which might have come from the castle!

It was quite impossible. Leon would never be a traitor to the man who had done so much for him. I was so upset by recent events that my imagination was getting out or hand.

We left early soon after dawn.

The Comte came down to the courtyard to see us off. He held my hand firmly in his and said: “Take care of my daughter … and yourself.”

Then he added: “Be patient.”

I knew what he meant and that remark filled me with excitement, apprehension and foreboding.

The Waiting City

I

Paris! What a city of enchantment. If I could have been there in other circumstances, how I should have loved it. My mother and I used to talk of the various places in the world we should like to visit and high on our list had been Paris.

It was a queen of cities, full of beauty and ugliness, living side by side. When I studied the maps I thought that the island in the Seine on which the city stood was like a cradle in shape and when I pointed this out to Margot she was only mildly interested.

“A cradle,” I said.

“It’s significant. In this cradle beauty was reared. Francois Premier with his love of fine buildings, with his devotion to literature, music and artists laid the foundations of the most intellectual court of Europe.”

Trust you to make it sound like a history lesson t’ retorted Margot.

“Well now, revolution is being reared in your cradle.”

I was startled. It was unlike her to talk seriously.

“Those stones which were thrown at the chateau,” she went on, “I keep thinking of them. Ten years ago they wouldn’t have dared … and now we dare do nothing about it. Change is coming, Minelle. You can feel it all around you.”

I could feel it. In those streets where the crowds jostled, where the vendors shouted their wares. I had the feeling of a waiting city.

The Comte’s residence was in the Faubourg Saint-HonorS among those of other members of the nobility. They stood, these houses, where they had for two to three hundred years, aloof and elegant. Not far away, I was to discover, was that labyrinth of little streets into which one dared not venture unless accompanied by several strong men-evil-smelling, i narrow, cobbled, where lurked those who regarded any stranger as a victim. We went into them on one occasion accompanied by Bessell and another manservant. Margot had insisted. There was the S street of the women who sat at the doors, their faces ludicrously painted, their low-cut dresses deliberately revealing. I remembered the names of the streets. Rue aux Feves, Rue de j la Jouverie, Rue de la Colandre, Rue. des Marmousets. They were the streets of the women and the dyers and outside many of the houses stood great tubs in which the dyes were mixed red, blue and green dye flowed down the gutters like miniature rivers.

My room in the Comte’s hotel was even more elegant than that which I had occupied in the chateau. It overlooked beautiful gardens which were tended by a host of gardeners. There were greenhouses in which exotic blooms flourished and these were used to decorate the rooms.

Margot’s room was next to mine. I arranged it,” she told me.

“And Mimi is in the ante-room. Bessell is with the grooms.”

I had forgotten till then our plan which involved these two. In fact I had never really taken it seriously and she did not mention it until we had been in Paris two or three days.

The Comte and Comtesse de Grasseville called on our first day. Margot, as the hostess, did the honours very graciously, I thought. She walked in the gardens with them and they were all very solemn. As the Comte had reminded us, we were in mourning.

I wondered then whether this meant a postponement of the wedding and came to the conclusion that this must be so.

I was presented to the Comte and Comtesse. Their manner was a little aloof and I wondered if they had heard rumours about my position in the Comte’s household.

I spoke to Margot about this later.

She said she had noticed nothing and they had spoken very kindly of me.

“We talked about the wedding,” she said, ‘and by rights we should wait a year. I don’t know whether we shall. But I shall go on as though there will be no postponement. “

There was shopping to be done. Mimi always accompanied us with Bessell and if we went in the carriage there would be a footman as well.

Sometimes we went on foot and that I enjoyed most. We all dressed very quietly for these expeditions, though none of us mentioned this.

I shall never forget the smell of Paris. There seemed to be more mud there than in any other city. It was black mud and there were metal fragments in it. If one of these touched one’s garments it would make a hole. I remembered that the old Roman name for Paris was Lutetia which meant Mud Town, and I was surprised it had been so called. In the streets boys stood around with brooms to sweep a crossing for those pedestrians who were ready to pay a sou for the service.

I liked to see the way in which the city came alive as it did each morning at seven o’clock when the clerks, neatly dressed, would be going to work, and one or two gardeners could be seen wheeling their barrows into the markets. Gradually the town would put on its bustling and exciting vitality. I told Margot it reminded me of the dawn chorus of the birds. A little stirring, then a little more and so on, adding up to the full song.

She was a little impatient of my enthusiasm. After all, she had known Paris for so long and as with many things that are familiar one ceases to be aware of them.

But how thrilling it was to see the various trades waking up to the day. The barbers, covered in flour with which they powdered the wigs, the lemonade shops opening their doors while the waiters came out with their trays of hot coffee and rolls to be served to those in the surrounding houses who had ordered them the night before. Later members of the legal profession appeared like black crows in their flapping robes on their way to the Chatelet and the other courts.

Dinner was at three o’clock in fashionable circles and it amused me to see the dandies and the ladies-some in carriages but some on foot-picking their careful way through the mud on their way to their hosts. Then the streets were! full of noise and clamour which died down during the dinner! interval to awaken again about five o’clock when the leisured i crowd was making its way to the playhouses or the pleasure gardens.

I wanted to see everything, which Margot thought very I childish. She did not know that the need to overlay my I anxiety about what might be happening back at the chateau i was at the heart of my determination to learn all I could :

about this stimulating, wonderful city.

Looking back, how glad I was that I saw it then. It was never to be quite the same again.

We shopped. What an array of good things there were in,-‘ those shops!

Their windows were dazzling. Gowns, ready;

made, materials for sale, mantles, pelisses, muffs, ribbons,

laces. They were a joy to behold. The hats were perhaps the ;

most striking of all. Following the fashions set by the Queen, they were both extravagant and outrageous. Rose Bertin, i her dressmaker, made for a few favoured people. She graciously consented to make something for the daughter of the Comte Fontaine Delibes.

“I should go to someone who is more eager to serve you,” I said.

“You don’t understand, Minelle. It means something to be dressed by Rose Bertin.”

So we went to her for Margot’s fitting. She kept us waiting for an hour and then sent a message to the effect that we must return next day.

As we came out I noticed a little group of people standing on the corner. They muttered and watched us sullenly as we got into the carriage.

Yes, Paris was certainly an uneasy city. But I was too bemused by its beauty and too stunned by what had happened at the chateau to notice as I otherwise would-and Margot’s thoughts were elsewhere.

I was gratified to see that England appeared to be held in great respect. It was as Gabrielle LeGrand  had said. The shops were full of clothes proclaiming to be made of English cloth. Signs announced that English was spoken within, in the windows of the shops was written Le Punch Anglais, and in all the cafes it was possible to take lethe.

Even the tall vehicles were called whiskies and an imitation of those used in England.

I was amused and I must say somewhat flattered. And in the shops I made no attempt to disguise the fact that, like so many of their products, I came from across the Channel.

We were buying some beautiful satin one day which was to be made into a dress for Margot’s trousseau when the man who was serving us leaned across the counter and looking at me earnestly said: “Mademoiselle is from England?”

I agreed that this was so.

“Mademoiselle should go home,” he said.

“Lose no time.”

I looked at him in surprise and he went on: “Any day the storm will break. Today, tomorrow, next week, next year. And when it comes none will be spared. You should go while there is time.”

Cold fear touched me then. There had been so many pointers, I could see that everyone around me was trying not to see them but there had to be uncomfortable moments when they could not be avoided.

This was indeed a waiting city.

We walked out into the sunshine and our steps led us to the Cour du Mai. I could not forget the shop man warning; and as I walked it seemed to me that a terrible foreboding of the future came to me.

I was to remember it there in the Cour du Mai later on.

Margot came to my room. There was a sparkle in her eyes and she was very flushed.

“It’s all arranged,” she said.

“We are going to see Yvette.”

“Who is Yvette?”

“Don’t be deliberately obstructive, Minelle. I have told you about Yvette. She used to work with Nou-Nou in the nursery. She lives in the country-not so very far from where I lost Chariot.”

“My dear Margot, you are not still thinking of looking for him.”

“Of course I am. Do you think I would let him go and never know what has happened to him? I must content myself that he is well and happy . and not missing me.”

“As he was only a few weeks old when you parted from him, he could hardly be expected to know you.”

“Of course he’ll know me. I’m his mother.”

“Oh Margot, you must not be so foolish. You must put i unfortunate episode behind you. You have been lucky. Yo have a fiance whom you like very well. He will be kind a good to you.”

“Oh, don’t set yourself up as an oracle. You’re not t schoolmistress now, you know. You promised we would to find him. Are you a breaker of promises?”

I was silent. It was true I had promised when I though! she was on the verge of hysteria, but I had never really taken the plan seriously. “I have it all worked out,” she explained.

“I shall go to vis iA my old nurse Yvette. I want to tell her that I am betrothed to Robert. Mimi and Bessell will accompany us, and we shall take the carriage. We shall stay at inns and travel aj little each day and as we are going back to that neighbourhood I shall become Madame Ie Brun. It will be a sort of’l masquerade. I have told Mimi that it is better not to travel as my father’s daughter because of the recent scandal about) my mother’s death and the mood of the people. She is pleased;;

She thinks that will be safe. Why don’t you say something? ? You just sit there looking disapproving. I think it’s a wonderful plan. “

“I only hope you don’t do anything foolish.”

“Why do you always think I am going to do something foolish?” she demanded.

“Because you often do,” I retaliated.

But I could see that she was really set on the plan and there was no withholding her.

Perhaps, I thought, it is not such a bad idea, for if she-saw for herself that her child was well cared for she might cease to fret about him. But how could we hope to find him?

She had decided that we should make our way to Petit Montlys but we should not of course call on Madame Gremond. Even she realized what folly that would be.

“What we must do,” she said, ‘is to find the inn where we stayed when Chariot was taken from us and make enquiries in that area. “

I said: “It’s a wild goose chase.”

“Wild geese are sometimes caught,” she retorted.

“And I’m going to find Chariot.”

We set out on our journey and in three days we covered a good few miles and spent the nights at inns, which Bessell had a gift for finding.

Madame Ie Brun, her cousin and her man and maidservant dearly had enough money to pay for what they wanted and for that reason they were very welcome.

It was unfortunate that one of our horses should cast a shoe and we must go to the nearest blacksmith and that this should happen to be not much more than a mile away from the town of Petit Montlys.

We left the carriage at the blacksmith’s and went into the village which I remembered from my stay in Petit Montlys. While we waited we decided to take some refreshment at an inn we discovered and this we did.

The landlord was rather garrulous. News travels fast in such places and he had already heard that we had come in a carriage and the reason for our delay.

“It gives me a chance to serve you some of my wife’s bread straight from the oven with good cheese and our own butter -and would you like some hot coffee with it? I can serve Ie Punch here. Mercier … as good English a drink as sold in Paris.”

Margot, Mimi and I took the coffee and hot rolls. Bessell tried the mercier and found it good.

“How is life in Paris?” asked the landlord.

“Very gay, very lively,” Bessell told him.

“Ah, it is long since I have been. Mademoiselle, I fancy I have seen you before.” He was looking straight at me.

“You are English, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Staying with Madame Gremond with your cousin who had suffered a great bereavement, were you?”

I looked at Margot who burst out: “Yes, that’s so. I had suffered a bereavement. I lost my poor husband.”

“Madame, I trust you are happier now.”

“One grows away from sorrow,” said Margot.

I could see that Bessell and Mimi were a little bewildered and I said:

“We should not stay too long. We have to get on and the blacksmith should have done his job by now.”

We came out into the sunshine. Margot was laughing as though what had happened was something of a joke. I felt less happy.

As we walked towards the blacksmith’s shop, a young woman came running towards us.

“It is!” she cried.

“Why, it is. It’s Madame Ie Brun and Mademoiselle Maddox.”

There was no denying who we were for the woman who faced us was Jeanne.

“It is good to see you Madame, Mademoiselle,” she said.

“We often talk of you. How is the little one?”

He is well,” said Margot quietly.

“Such a bonny baby! Madame Legere said she had never seen a bonnier.”

How stupid we were to have come! I might have known that we should run into danger. But what would have been the use of pointing that out to Margot

“With his nurse, I’ll warrant,” went on Jeanne.

“I heard there was a fine carriage at the blacksmith’s. Ladies from Paris, they thought. I never dreamed who it would be.”

I laid a hand on Margot’s arm.

“We must be on our way,” I said.

“You are coming to see Madame Gremond?”

No, I’m afraid not,” I replied quickly.

“Do give her our best wishes and tell her that this time we are in too much of a hurry. We lost our way and that is why we have arrived here. Then unfortunately the horse cast a shoe.”

“Where are you making for?” asked Jeanne.

“For Parrefours,” I said, inventing a name.

Ive never heard of that. What is the nearest big town? “

“That is what we have to find out,” I replied.

“We really must get to the carriage. Good day.”

“It was a pleasure seeing you,” said Jeanne, her little monkey’s eyes taking in everything, the livery of Bessell, the near lady’s maid cloak of Mimi. I was glad that the times made it necessary for us to dress simply so that Margot’s garments did not proclaim her rank too clearly.

We were subdued as we got into the carriage which was ready for us. I noticed the speculation in Mimi’s eyes, but like the good lady’s maid that she was, she made no mentionj of what had passed. I expected that she and Bessell would! discuss it later.

Margot refused to be depressed by the encounter. She would concoct some tale for Mimi later, though whether Mimi believed it would be another matter. What had happened appeared to have been very revealing. It lingered very unpleasantly in my mind.

We found our way to the inn where we had been with Chariot. The landlord remembered us. We must have been conspicuous partly I supposed because of the foreigner, myself; and of course the fact that Margot had arrived with a baby and left without him did mate the conclusion a little obvious.

Margot said she would ask a few discreet questions, but Margot and discretion did not really go together. It was soon clear that she was trying to trace the couple who had taken the baby, which clearly she had had to bear in secrecy and the reason for that would leave little doubt. But she did glean the information that the couple had taken the road south, towards the little town of Bordereaux.

There were three inns at Bordereaux and we tried them all without success. We studied the signposts and found there were three routes which the couple could have taken.

“We must try them all,” said Margot firmly.

How weary we were! What a hopeless chase it was i How could we hope to find the baby? But Margot was determined to.

“We cannot stay away much longer,” I pointed out.

“Already we have behaved in a very strange way. What do you think Mimi and Bessell think?”

They are servants,” retorted Margot haughtily. They are not paid to think.”

“Only when it is in your interests for them to do so, I suppose! They have some inkling of what all this is about. Do you think it wise, Margot?”

“I don’t care if it is wise or not. I’m going to find my baby.”

So we went on with our enquiries which brought us nowhere.

At length I said to Margot: “You said that this was to be a visit to your old nurse Yvette. Don’t you think it would be wise to call on her since that is supposed to be the object of the journey?”

She said she did not want to waste time but finally I persuaded her that it would be wise to go. Again I seem to hear the Comte’s voice warning me that if one is going t weave a web of deceit it is better to work in a few strand of truth. I Yvette lived in a pretty little house with a walled garde surrounding it. The gates were wide enough for the carriage to pass through and Yvette herself came to the door.

She was a gentle-faced woman whom I liked immediate but I was very much aware of her evident dismay when sh saw who her visitors were.

Margot ran to her and threw herself into her arms.

My little one,” said Yvette fondly.

“But this is a surprise ( ” We were in the neighbourhood and could not fail to come and see you,” said Margot. oh… who were you visiting?” asked Yvette. ‘ “Oh … well, we really came to see you. It seemed such a long time since I had. This is Mademoiselle Maddox my friend… and cousin.”

“Cousin?” said Yvette.

“I did not know you had this cousin Welcome, Mademoiselle. Please do come in. Oh, do I see Mimi? Welcome, Mimi.”

But her uneasiness seemed to have increased.

“Jose will take care of Mimi and your coachman,” she said, Jose was her maid a woman as old as herself. Mimi and Bessell went off with her and Margot and I followed Yvette into the house. It was neat, clean and very comfortably furnished.

“You are happy here, Yvette?” asked Margot.

“Monsieur Ie Comte has always been good to those who worked well for him,” she said.

“When you no longer needed me and I left the chateau he provided this house for me and an income so that I could afford Jose to look after me. We live very happily here.”

She took us into a pleasant room.

“And Mademoiselle Maddox is from England?”

I wondered how she knew for I had not mentioned it and my accent should not have betrayed me as so far I had said very little. My name?

Pronounced as Margot pronounced it, it did not sound really English.

“Sit down, my dear child, and you. Mademoiselle. You will have some refreshment, and you must stay to dine with me. We have a good chicken and Josee is a wonderful cook.”

She picked up a piece of needlework which was lying on a chair.

“Do you still do the same wonderful embroidery, Yvette?” Margot turned to me.

“She used to put it on most of my dresses, didn’t you, Yvette?”

“I was always fond of my needle. And I hear you are betrothed?”

“Oh, did you hear that, then? Who told you?”

Yvette hesitated. Then she said: “The Comte always wants to know how I am faring and he has called on me now and then.”

This was an aspect of his character I had not hitherto suspected. I was delighted to learn of it and the knowledge filled me with elation.

Margot said: We shall be happy to share in the chicken, shall we not, Minelle? “

Still thinking of the Comte’s concern for those whom he considered to be in his care, I nodded happily.

“I must show you Yvette’s wonderful work,” went on Margot. She was out of her armchair and had taken the piece of needlework on which Yvette had been working and brought it over to me.

“See! This light feathery stitch. What is this, Yvette?” She held it up. It was a baby’s coat.

Yvette blushed and said: “I am working it for a friend,” Margot’s face puckered as it always did when she was reminded of babies. I thought then: She will never get over this until she has another child.

She folded the little coat and laid it on a chair.

“It’s very pretty,” she said.

“How is everything at the chateau?" asked Yvette.

“Much as ever. Oh no … We have had stones through the windows, haven’t we, Minelle?”

Yvette shook her head sadly.

“Sometimes I think the people are going mad. We hear little of it here but there are tales from Paris.” Then she talked of the old days and told little anecdotes about Margot’s adventures as a child. It was clear that she had a great fondness for her.

“I heard of your mother’s death,” she said. That was a great sadness.

Poor lady! Nou-Nou must be quite demented.

For her there was none but the Comtesse. She had had her a baby. I can understand that. We do not have babies of our own and our charges take that place in our hearts which v could give to our own. The bond is a strong one. Ah, I a a foolish old woman but I have always loved little babies Strange tricks of fate often give them to those who do noft want them and withhold them from those who do. Poor, poor. Nou-Nou.

I can imagine her grief. ” ?

“She is taking it very badly,” said Margot.

“What was that?”

We listened. T thought I heard a child, crying. “

“No, no,” said Yvette.

“If you will excuse me I will go to the kitchen to see how Jose is faring with the chicken. Jose and I do the cooking between us.”

As she opened the door we heard the unmistakable cry of a child.

Margot was beside her.

You have a baby here,” she said.

Yvette flushed scarlet and stammered.

“Well… for a while. I am looking after …”

Margot was up the stairs. In a few seconds she was standing at the top of them holding a baby in her arms. There was a smile of triumph on her face. I thought: God works in a mysterious way, for I knew before Yvette admitted it that we had found Chariot.

She brought him into the room, her face radiant. She sat down and held him in her lap. He was clucking and kicking and seemed clearly pleased with life in spite of the fact that a few moments before he had been crying.

“Oh, he is beautiful … beautiful,” breathed Margot; and indeed he was. Plump, well-fed, happy, he was all that a baby should be.

Yvette looked at Margot and shook her head slowly.

“You should not have come here, my dear,” she said.

“Not to see my beautiful Chariot!” cried Margot.

“Oh, I have missed my little pet. And to find him here! Yvette, you deceiver but you have cared for him well.”

“Of course I have cared for him well. Do you think I wouldn’t care well for any baby? And yours is especially dear to me. That is what the Comte said: ” I know you will give him that special care,” he said, ” because he is Marguerite’s. ” But oh, my dear, you should never have come here now that you are betrothed.

You see it was all for the best that he should come here. I don’t know what the Comte will say. “

“This is my affair,” said Margot.

“Margot,” I reminded her, ‘you must see that the best thing that could happen is for Chariot to remain here. “

She would not speak. She could not think of anything but that she had Chariot in her arms. She would not let him go and when he slept and Yvette said he must go into his cot, Margot took him upstairs. I guessed that she wanted to be alone with him and I remained with Yvette.

Yvette said to me: “Mademoiselle, I know that you have looked after Marguerite. The Comte has told me everything. He has spoken very warmly of you. I don’t know what he will say when he hears you have been here.”

“Margot’s feelings are very natural. He must understand that.”

She nodded.

“There is something else that worries me. Enquiries are being made … have been made.”

“Enquiries? What sort of enquiries?”

“About the child. Jose hears a good deal that doesn’t reach me. She goes into the town on market days. I chided her in the past for being such a gossip, but sometimes it can be useful. The fact that we have a child here cannot be kept a secret naturally and it is realized that I am looking after it for someone in a high place. The Comte’s orders were that the child should have the best of everything, and although I was not poor before, I have become more affluent since the baby has been with me. These things are noticed. Jose tells me that a gentleman, who tried to disguise himself as a travelling salesman and failed because he was clearly an aristocrat, has been asking questions. He is obviously interested in the child and is trying to find out who he is.”

T wonder,” I began and paused. Yvette was a woman whom I instinctively trusted. Moreover, she would have been in the Comte’s employ for so many years and had been selected by him to look after the child. I went on: ” Could it have been Robert de Grasseville . Margot’s fiance?”

“That was what occurred to me. It would not be difficult for someone who was ready to ferret to discover that I had been employed at the chateau. The Comte is a man of distinction. He has visited me twice since the child was brought here. He is anxious for little Charles’s welfare and he likes! to assure himself that the boy is well. He comes simply dressed! for him. Mademoiselle, but as you know, it is impossible fotlfl such men to hide hundreds of years of breeding. Sometimes this tremble when I think what the future holds.”

“I understand well. Thank you for telling me.”

There is something else. Mademoiselle. Jose hears these things. She came in one day and said that she had heard it said that the Comte was the father of the child. “

“Oh no! Surely …”

She looked at me searchingly.

“You were with Margot when the child was born. You have been at the chateau. You see …”

I was flushing, hot and indignant.

“You cannot mean that I…”

“These rumours get around. I don’t know how this one started … But you see how it could be possible.”

“Yes,” I said, ‘it could be possible, I suppose. Would the Comte have sent his daughter to be with a woman who was to bear his illegitimate child? “

Yvette lifted her shoulders.

“It is so much nonsense. But the baby is here. I was a nurse at the chateau and the Comte has called to ascertain all is well with the child. People add up these things and get the wrong answer.”

My head was whirling. There seemed no end to the maze of intrigue which was closing around me.

“I think you should be warned. Mademoiselle. Take care of Margot. She is so impulsive and has always acted without thought. I should so much like to see her happily settled and it seems that here is a chance.

The Grassevilles are a very good family . I mean their reputation is high. They treat their people well and are generous to them. The match would be the making of Margot. But there is this matter of the child.

How I wish little Charles had been Robert de Grasseville’s son and born in wedlock. “

“That would have been ideal and we should not be here now if it were so.”

“Mademoiselle, I see that you are a sensible young woman. The Comte has great faith in you. Take care of her. It may be that these enquiries did come from the Grassevilles and that if they know that the child is Margot’s they will not want to go on with the marriage. I think you should be prepared for that.”

“I believe it would be wise not to mention this to Margot now. “

“I have been glad of the opportunity to talk to you alone.”

I agreed that it had been beneficial.

“We can only wait and see what happens,” I said.

“If it were Robert who was making enquiries we shall soon know.”

She nodded.

“But you will be prepared. Mademoiselle, in case anything should go wrong.”

I said I would.

Margot returned to us looking ecstatic.

“He is fast asleep. Oh, he is angelic.”

I was apprehensive because I knew how miserable she was going to be when she was obliged to part with him.

We stayed the night at Yvette’s house for Margot said she must have a little time with her baby. She sent Mimi and Bessell to the inn where they stayed the night and I must say I was relieved that they were out of the house.

She and I lay awake for a long time talking-for we shared a room.

“What am I going to do?” she demanded.

“He could not be better looked after.”

“I know what you’re going to say. Leave Chariot here.”

“The wise thing, I hope,” I replied.

“If I had to engage a nurse I would take Yvette before anyone else.”

“He has Yvette now and she has obviously cared well for him. Chariot lacks nothing.”

“Except his mother.”

“In the circumstances he is best as he is.”

“You, you are heartless, Minelle. Sometimes I could slap you for your cool, precise and so logical manner. I hate it all the more because I know that most people would say you were right.”

“Of course I’m right. You have found him. You have the great satisfaction of knowing -that he is in the best possible hands. You can come and see him sometimes. What more could you ask?”

That I could have him with me all the time. “

Then you should have waited until he could be born in a respectable manner. ”

” You would not have made me marry James Wedder?”

“ I think it would have been an unsuitable marriage, but having behaved as you did you should be prepared to take I the consequences. Your father has done a good deal for you. ? Now you must do as he wishes. ” ] ” Is it fair to Robert? ” i!

“Tell him, then.”

“You are bold all of a sudden. He might discard me.” “If that is the case perhaps it would be better to be discarded.”

“How easy it is to solve other people’s problems.” I had to agree with her on that.

So we talked through the night and in the morning she realized that she must go away and she would go happier than she had come for now she knew that when the longing for Chariot was intolerable she could come and be with him for a while.

The quest had ended more satisfactorily than I had thought possible.

Margot had found Chariot and I had learned that there was another side to the Comte’s nature than that which he had flaunted for all the world to see. He had cared about Yvette, had settled her comfortably, and he was determined to protect the child however much he deplored his birth. He was human after all, capable of soft feelings. I was very happy that night.

II

When we returned to Paris there was an urgent message from the Comte.

We were to return to the chateau without delay. As the message had been waiting for us for two days we lost no time in making our preparations.

When we reached the chateau some two days later, the Comte was clearly not pleased.

“I had expected you before,” he said coldly.

“Did you not get my message?”

I explained that we had taken a trip into the country and had returned to Paris only two days ago, when we had received the command which had been immediately obeyed.

It was a foolish thing to do,” he snapped.

“Times being as they are, we do not take pleasure trips.”

I wondered what he would say if he knew we had visited Yvette.

Later that day he summoned me to him and all his ill-humour had disappeared.

“I missed you,” he said simply, and I felt that irrepressible excitement rising in me which he alone could give me. T was beset by my anxieties. You should know. Cousin, that we are heading fast towards some terrible climax. Only a miracle can save us now. “

“Miracles sometimes happen,” I said.

“A great deal of human ingenuity is needed to assist divine interference to produce a miracle, I have always thought, and alas, at this time when we need genius in our rulers we have only ineptitude.”

“It can’t be too late.”

That is our only chance. Don’t tell me that we have brought this on ourselves because I know it. None could know it better. As a class we have been both selfish and obtuse. In the last reign the King and his mistress said that after them would come the deluge. I can hear it thundering very close now. I fancy that-without the miracle-that deluge will soon envelop us. “

“But as this is known, surely it is a warning. Can’t it be averted?”

“The King is calling together the States-General. He is asking the two wealthiest orders in the land-that is, the clergy and the nobility to make sacrifices to save the country. It is an explosive situation.

I must go to Paris . I shall be leaving tomorrow. I don’t know how long I shall be there, or how long before I see you again. Minelle, I want you to stay here until I send for you. Take care of yourself.

Promise me. “

“I will,” I said.

“And Marguerite, too. Take care of her. Don’t do anything foolish like going off to look for Marguerite’s child.”

I caught my breath.

“You knew!”

“My dear Cousin, I have people watching for me. I must know what happens about me and that includes my own household. I know you well.

You believe with me that it would have been better for Marguerite not to know where the child was. On the other hand you respect her maternal feelings.

I know that you found Yvette. Very well. Marguerite knows. She will visit him from time to time, and one day she will be betrayed and then she will have to answer to her husband. When she is married that is their affair . her husband’s and hers. While she is unmarried and my daughter, it is mine. “

“It seems to me you are omniscient,” I said.

“It is well for you to see me as such.” He smiled and when that smile was tender it transformed his face and moved me deeply.

“I have to talk to you seriously now as it may be some time before we see each other again. I am going to Paris for the meeting of the States-General. We must look at this clearly. At any time … the people could rise. We might subdue them … I do not know. But we are living on a razor’s edge, Minelle. That is why I am speaking to you now. You must know the depth of my feelings for you.” , “No,” I replied, ‘that is exactly what I do not know. I i know that you have been attracted by me, which has surprised me. I know that you brought me here for that reason. I know that you have been similarly attracted to many women. It is precisely the depth of your feelings that I do not know. “

“And you attach great importance to that?”

“It is surely of the greatest importance.”

“I could not talk to you of this while my wife was alive.”

I felt sick with fear. Doubts and suspicions crowded into my mind. I tried to fight off this overwhelming fascination. I was sure that my mother was warning me.

“It is such a short time since she died,” I heard myself say.

“Perhaps you should wait…”

“Wait? Wait for what? Until I am dead? By God, Minelle, do you realize that I might never see you again? You are aware of the mood of the people. You have seen the stones thrown through our windows. Do you realize that if this had happened fifty years ago the culprit would have been discovered, flogged and sent to prison where he would have remained for years.”

“It is not surprising that the people want change.”

“Of course it is not surprising. There should have been justice … compassion … unselfishness … care for the poor. We know that now. But they are not clamouring for those things only. They want revenge. If they succeed there will not be justice. It will simply be a turning of the tables. They will murder us and demand retribution. But you know all this. The country’s affairs weary us.

They are dreary, depressing, hopeless and tragic. Minelle, I want to talk of ourselves . you and me. Whatever happens, know this. My feelings go deep. At first I thought it was a lighthearted desire . such as I have felt throughout my life for many. While you were in Paris, I feared for you. I knew that if I lost you I should never know a moment’s real happiness again. I am going to ask you to marry me.”

“You must realize that is not possible.”

“Why not? Are we not both free now?”

“You have been free such a short time. And the circumstances of your wife’s death…”

“Do you believe what they are saying of me? Dearest Minelle, any black deed they can pin on us, they do, and make a great noise about it.

They accuse me of murdering my wife. “

I looked at him pleadingly.

“You too?” he went on.

“You believe I killed her! You think I slipped up to her bedroom, that I took NouNou’s concoctions and filled her glass. Is that what you believe?”

I could not speak. It was almost as though my mother was beside me.

There, she was saying, as I who had known her so well knew how she would reason, if you believe he could be a murderer, how can you be in love with him?

But she would never have understood this wild emotion. One did not have to have an ideal to love. One could love no matter what the loved one had done, and whatever he did in the future one would go on loving. Perhaps my kind of love was different from that which my mother had known with my father. He had been an honest upright man, a brave sea captain who cared only for his family and that he should conduct his life honourably. All men were not like that.

The Comte was watching me quizzically.

“So you do believe it,” he said. T know that I want to marry you, and I want it before it is too late. I am no longer very young. The world which I have always known is crumbling about me. I feel a need, an urgency . “

“You are telling me that you killed your wife,” I said.

“No, I am not. But I will be honest and say that I wanted her out of the way. I despised her. At times I hated her, but never so much as when she stood between you and me. Vaguely before I had hoped for remarriage that I might get a son. Now that you are here I want it for other reasons too. I have dreamed often of a peaceful existence here in the chateau … our children growing up around us … the pleasant life going on and on. I knew that with you it would have to be marriage. Oddly enough it was what I wanted. Then she died. She took an overdose of that sleeping draught because she knew she was suffering from the disease which killed her mother. It was lingering and painful. Do you believe me now?”

I could not meet his eyes because I knew he would read my doubts there and that I might see the lies in his. I thought of his riding through the village and a small lively boy playing in his path . and the Comte, passing on, leaving nothing but a mangled body. That boy died to suit the Comte’s whim. It was true he had taken the boy’s brother and tried to recompense his family . but what recompense was there for death?

I said slowly: “I understand you well. Your way of life has been that those who are not of your class are of a lesser breed. When I consider that, I feel that change is due.”

“You are right. But do not believe all that you hear of me. Rumour attaches to those who arouse the envy of others. You yourself are not immune.”

“Who should envy me?”

“Many people. There are some who know of my feelings for you. Strange is it not, they envy you for that. There are whispers about me and they include you.”

“I am more convinced than ever that I should return to England.”

“What! Runaway! Leave the sinking ship?”

“It is not really my ship.”

“Let me tell you what they are saying. It is known in some places that there has been a child. I have heard the rumour that it is mine and that you are its mother.”

I flushed scarlet and he went on almost mockingly: “There, you see! It is not wise to believe all the rumours you hear.”

“But such a wicked story …”

Most rumour is wicked. Rumourmongers take an element of truth and build round it and because they have that Foundation of fact, the rumour remains firm. But wise people lever believe all they hear. I waste my time. What does it matter what they say? I have to go to Paris. I have to leave you here. Minelle, take care of yourself. Do not act rashly. Be ready to do whatever I say you must. You know it will be Eor your good. “

“Thank you,” I said.

Then he drew me to him and kissed me as I had never seen kissed before and I wanted to stay in his arms for sver.

“Oh Minelle,” he said, ‘why do you deny your heart? ” Then lie released me.

“Perhaps I would not have it otherwise,” he went on.

“For then it would not be you. Moreover, it is a challenge, you know. One day you will cast aside all wisdom and come to me because nothing simply nothing-will be strong enough to withstand it. That’s what I want.

Whatever I am, whatever my sins of the past, you will not care. You will love me . me . not for my virtues, which are nonexistent-but for myself alone. I must leave you. I have much to do for I must go tomorrow. I shall be gone at dawn before you rise . but one day, Minelle . one day . “

Then he kissed me again, holding me as though he would never let me go. I knew he was right. I was fast reaching that stage when whatever he had done, whatever he was guilty of would seem insignificant beside my great need of him.

I turned and left him hastily, afraid of those emotions which such a short time ago I should have believed I could never experience.

I spent a sleepless night and at dawn I heard the sounds of his departure and was at my window to see him as he rode away. He turned and saw me there. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement.

I was up early and fully dressed when the maid arrived with my petit dejeuner. She brought a letter with her.

“Monsieur Ie Comte said it was to be given to you,” she told me. There was a certain avid curiosity in her eyes.

It was written on his crested notepaper the same as that which had been attached to the stone which had been thrown through the window.

My dearest [he had written], I had to write a few lines after I left you. I want you to take especial care from now on. Be patient. One day we shall be together. I have plans for us. I promise you, all will be well.

Charles Auguste.

I read and re-read that letter. Charles Auguste. Oddly enough the name seemed strange to me. I thought of him always as The Comte . the Devil Comte . the Devil on Horseback, the name I had given him long ago when I had first seen him. These fitted him. But not Charles Auguste. I had of course learned a great deal about him since the days when I had thought of him as the Devil on Horseback. He was arrogant, of course. He had been brought up to believe that he and his kind were supreme. It had been so for centuries. They took what they wanted and if anyone stood in the way that person was brushed aside. That was firmly embedded in his nature. Would anything ever change that? Yet there was kindliness in him. Had he not taken Leon and looked after him? He had at least made some reparation for the harm he had done that family. He had cared about little Chariot and had made sure that he was well looked after and had even visited Yvette to assure himself of the child’s welfare. And for me? Was that real tenderness I had seen? How deep did it really go? Did he really love me differently from the way in which he had loved others? What if I married him and failed to produce a son? Should I one day be given a double dose of some fatal poison? Would they come one morning and find me dead?

So I did believe he had killed Ursule, It had been so opportune, hadn’t it? She had died at the right moment. Why should she, who had been a peevish invalid all her life, suddenly decide that she was going to take it?

So I thought him capable of murder and still I wanted him. I wanted to make love with him. I might as well face the truth. It was what my mother had always said one should do. I had always thought of love between men and women as that which my mother had had for my father. A woman should always look up to her husband, admire his good qualities. But if the man who excited one more than any other could possibly do, if the man in whose company one found the utmost pleasure was possibly a murderer, what then?

I should have loved to talk to her of these matters-but had she been alive I should never have been in this situation. She would never have approved of my coming to France in the first place and I knew that if she were here now she would say: “We must leave for England without delay.”

While I was brooding thus Margot came in with her petit dejeuner.

I hastily thrust the Comte’s letter in a drawer and she was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she did not notice my doing so.

“I have to talk to you, Minelle,” she said.

“It’s been worrying me all night. I’ve scarcely slept.”

I wondered then if she was aware of her father’s departure and if she had seen him turn and wave to me. But it was hardly likely. When Margot was wrapped up in her own affairs she never noticed what other people were doing.

I was so shocked,” she said.

“I would never have believed it of them,” “Of whom are you talking?”

“Of Mimi and Bessell. Of course the servants have changed such a lot.

You must have noticed. They can be so insolent now. But Bessell .

and Mimi most of all. Of course it is Bessell’s doing. She would never have done it without him. “

“What has happened?” I asked, my heart sinking for I had thought from the first that it had been unwise to share the secret with them.

“Mimi came to me last night and said that Bessell wanted to speak to me. It didn’t occur to me then what it meant. I thought it was something about the horses. When he came, he was different somehow .. not a bit like the old Bessell. He stood there with a rather unpleasant look on his face and didn’t offer any excuse for coming in like that. He said there was a cottage vacant on the estate and he wanted to have it so that he and Mimi could get married right away.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a natural request.”

“I said I thought he should see the head groom and he said that the head groom was not sympathetic towards him so he thought he would go over his head to me. He said that he’d heard through a friend of his who worked on the Grasseville estate that they were all looking forward to the wedding and they only hoped nothing happened to stop it.”

I caught my breath.

“Yes,” I said, ‘what then? “

“He implied that he was very friendly with this man at Grasseville and others there too. They were sorry that the wedding was delayed through my mother’s death and they were just hoping that nothing else would happen …”

“Oh Margot,” I said, “I don’t like it.”

“Nor did I. It was the way he said it. He thought that after our trip he’d got to thinking that I might be kind enough to speak for him about the cottage because a word from me could settle the matter.”

“It’s blackmail,” I cried.

“He’s hinting that if you don’t get the cottage for him, he’ll tell his friend at Grasseville about the trip . and this friend of his will see that the gossip reaches the family.”

Margot nodded slowly.

There is only one thing to do,” I told her.

“You should never submit to blackmail. You must see Robert before he has any chance of hearing of this from anyone else. You must tell him the truth.”

“If he knew that I had already had a child he wouldn’t want to marry me.”

“He would if he loved you.”

She shook her head.

“He wouldn’t. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Well then, there would be no marriage.”

“But I want to marry him!”

“You wanted to marry James Wedder once. You ran away to do just that.”

“I was young and foolish. I did not know what I was doing then. It’s different now. I’m grown up. I have a child. I have plans for the future … and they include Robert. I’ve fallen in love with Robert.”

“All the more reason why you won’t want to deceive him.”

“You are very hard sometimes, Minelle.”

“I’m trying to think what is best for you.”

“I can’t tell Robert. In any case I have already told Bessell he shall have the cottage. Oh, it’s no use your looking shocked. I’ve said it is for Mimi who has worked well for me.

I shall marry Robert; they will stay here, and I shall never see them again. “

“Blackmailers don’t usually work that way, Margot. The first demand is rarely the last.”

“When I am married to Robert I shall tell him, but not before. Oh, I do wish there was not this delay over the marriage.”

I looked at her sadly. I felt that events were closing in around us too quickly and too menacingly.

We never rode out unless we were accompanied by a groom. That was the Comte’s orders. But I was beginning to notice that curious looks came my way. At one time I had been aloof from the hatred of the crowds. I was a foreigner and although I was at the chateau they had at first thought I was there in some menial capacity. Now they had changed. I wondered whether the rumour that I had had a child by the Comte had spread to them.

As we spent a great deal of time in the chateau precincts I saw more of Leon and Etienne than previously. They both had their duties about the estate and even they did not ride out singly.

It was interesting to talk to them and gather their attitudes towards the situation. Etienne was of the opinion that the old regime could not be shaken. He had the utmost contempt for what he called ‘the rabble’. The army would be called out, he said, if they attempted to rise, and the army was firmly behind the King. Leon was of the opposite opinion.

They would sit over the table long after a meal was finished, arguing together.

“At the moment the army is with the King,” said Leon, ‘but it could turn and once it did that would be the end. “

“Nonsense,” said Etienne.

“In the first place the army would never be disloyal and even if it were, power and money is with the nobility.”

“You haven’t moved with the times,” retorted Leon.

“I tell you that at the Palais Royalethe Due d’Orleans has been j spreading sedition. He has been giving every encouragement to agitators.

Everywhere you go they are screaming for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. They are murmuring against the Queen and even against the King. Etienne, you shut your ears. “

“And you are always mingling with the peasants, and attach too much importance to them.”

“I believe I give them the importance they deserve.”

So they argued and I listened and thus began to get a certain grasp of the situation. That each day it was becoming more dangerous I had no doubt and I wondered constantly what was happening to the Comte in Paris.

Etienne said to me one day: “My mother very much wishes that you would call on her one day. She has asked me to invite you. She has acquired a piece of porcelain … a rather fine vase which is said to be English. She would very much like to have your opinion of it.”

“I am not an expert on porcelain, I’m afraid.”

“Nevertheless, she would like you to see it. May I take you over there tomorrow?”

“Yes, that would be pleasant.”

The next day I was ready at the appointed time. It was about three-thirty when we set out.

Etienne said: “It is better to take the path I showed you. I believe I told you that the Comte had it made years ago. He could visit the house easily then. It has become a little overgrown. It’s rarely used now.”

He was right. It was overgrown. The branches met in several places over the path and the undergrowth was thick now that the summer was with us.

Gabrielle was waiting.

It is so good of you to come,” she said.

“I am so anxious to show you my acquisition. But first we will take Ie the. I know how you English love it.”

She took me into the elegant room where I had sat with her on another occasion. While we drank tea she asked me if I had enjoyed my trip to I told her that I had found it most interesting.

“And did you notice how we are imitating the English?”

“I noticed a great deal that was English in the shops and how so many proclaimed that they spoke the language.”

“Ah yes, everyone is taking Ie the now. It must be gratifying to you.

Mademoiselle, to know that you are such a success in our country. “

“I think it is just a fashion.”

“We are a fickle people, you think?”

“Fashions come and go with us all, do they not?”

“It is like a man with his mistress. They come and go. The wise ones realize that there is generally nothing permanent. The favourite of today can be the discarded of tomorrow. Is the tea to your taste?”

I assured her that it was.

“Do try one of these little cakes. Etienne loves them. He eats far too many. I am very lucky to have my son visit me so often. My brother comes too. We are a closely knit family. I am a lucky woman. Although I could not marry the Comte, at least I did not lose my son. When the relationship is not so close men are inclined to bring their illegitimate children up in secrecy. I think that must be rather distressing for the poor mother, don’t you?”

I felt my colour rising. She had heard the rumour obviously and was she suggesting that I was the unmarried mother of the Comte’s son?

“One can imagine without experiencing it that it must be upsetting for the mother,” I said coolly.

“But then I suppose it would be said that it is a contingency which, had she been wise, she would have considered before she put herself into that unfortunate position.”

“All women are not as far-seeing, are they?”

“Evidently not. I am looking forward to seeing your vase.”

“Yes, and I to showing you.”

She seemed to linger over tea and I noticed that on several occasions she glanced at the clock in the shape of the chateau which, on our previous meeting, she had told me was a present from the Comte. I believed she did so now to remind me of his fondness for her.

She chattered a great deal about Paris, a city which she clearly loved, and as I had been enchanted by it and felt my visit there had been far too brief, I listened with interest.

She told me that I should have visited Les Halles to see the real Paris and she certainly had vivid powers of description. She made me see the great circular space with the six streets leading to it-and all the stalls piled with produce. Then she told me how second-hand clothes were sold from stalls on Mondays on the Place de Greve. It was called the Fair of the Holy Ghost, for what reason she had no idea.

“Oh it is amusing to see the women turning over the garmeats and snatching them from one another,” she said.

“Skirts, bodices, petticoats, hats … they are all there in piles. The women try on the clothes in public which causes a great deal of noise and amusement.”

So she went on chattering of Paris and in due course she sent for the vase. It was beautiful a deep shade of blue etched with white figures. I told her I believed it was Wedgewood. She was very proud of it. She said it was a gift from someone who knew how she enjoyed things that were English and I wondered whether she was hinting that the donor was the Comte.

When I said I must go she delayed me with more chatter and I came to the conclusion that she was not only a jealous woman but a garrulous one.

She became momentarily serious.

“Ah,” she said, ‘when one is young . inexperienced, one believes all one is told. One has to learn not to attach too much importance to the protestations of a lover. He has one object in mind generally. But I have my son. Mademoiselle, and he is a great comfort to me. “

“I am sure he must be,” I said.

She was smiling at me.

“I know you. Mademoiselle, will understand.”

Her look was almost conspiratorial. I had a very uneasy feeling that she knew of Chariot’s existence and was she really under the impression that he was my son?

“I feel I can really talk to you,” she went on, “I know how perceptive you would be. There has always been an understanding between the Comte and myself. You do believe me?”

“Of course, since you tell me so and naturally, in the circumstances there would be.”

She added: “When our son was born, he was so proud. He has always been so fond of Etienne. The resemblance is strong, don’t you agree? He wishes that he had defied opposition in the first place and married me. He always wanted a male heir. What a tragedy if the title and estates went to a distant cousin. He would never allow that. It was understood between us that if the opportunity arose we would marry.”

“You mean,” I said coldly, ‘if the Comtesse died. “

She lowered her eyes and nodded.

“If she did not, then Etienne would be legitimized. Of course it would be easier if we married. And now she is dead and … it is only a matter of time.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed it is. Mademoiselle, we are women of the world. I know the Comte well. I know his partiality for attractive young women and in your way-a rather unusual way-you are attractive.”

“Thank you,” I said icily.

“It would not be wise to attach too much importance to his attentions.

Perhaps you think I am being presumptuous, but in view of my relationship with the Comte . my knowledge of him which goes back over many years, I feel I should warn you. You are a foreigner and may not realize how life is lived here. I believe you could put yourself in a very unpleasant situation. The death of the Comtesse . your presence at the chateau . Sometimes I wonder if the Comte arranged it. “

“Arranged … what!”

She lifted her shoulders.

“You will go back to England. It could then be said that you had had your hopes …”

I stood up.

“Madame,” I said, ‘if you are hinting something will you please be more explicit. “

“Yes. Let us speak plainly. In a year’s time-in a respectable period the Comte and I are to marry. Our son will be made legitimate. An unpleasant rumour about the Comtesse’s death will persist.”

“It has been settled that she took her life.”

“Oh but. Mademoiselle, we have to contend with rumour. You will leave here. That is what the Comte intends. I can assure you that soon he will send for you. You will go with Marguerite … or perhaps back to England. People will say an Englishwoman came here for a while. She hoped to marry the Comte and the Comtesse died suddenly … while the English Mademoiselle was in the house.”

“Are you suggesting that I … It … it’s utterly false.”

“Of course. But after all, you did come here. You were friendly with the Comte. It was obvious that you had hopes. You see there is the foundation.”

“Madame,” I said, “I find this conversation nonsensical and offensive. You must excuse me as I wish to bring it to an immediate end.”

“I am sorry. I thought you should know the truth.”

“Good day, Madame.”

“I understand your indignation. You have been treated unfairly. I’m afraid the Comte is ruthless. He uses people for his own ends.”

I shook my head and turned away.

She said: “You must wait for Etienne. He will take you back.”

“I am going now. Goodbye.”

Shaken and trembling I went out to the stables. I wanted to put as far as possible between that woman and myself. Her insinuations were not only offensive; they were frightening.

How dared she suggest that the Comte had brought me here as a scapegoat, that he had killed his wife in order that he might marry Gabrielle and had done it in such a way that the blame could be attached to me.

It was inconceivable. It was the raving of a jealous woman. How could I doubt his sincerity after those scenes between us. That he was a sinner he had never denied. He had much to answer for, but he could never have deceived me so utterly, treated me so callously, as he would have if what she was suggesting were true.

And yet . How suspicious I was! I had been thrust into a world which, brought up as I had been by a god fearing mother with definite ideas of right and wrong, I could not understand.

How long had her affair with him continued? Was it still going on? Did she still attract him? Ethics, morals were considered so differently in the society from which I had come. Perhaps in high places in England there was a similarity. The King’s eldest son. Prince George, was notorious for his amours and so were his brothers. There were scandals among the aristocracy. I was sure that those who lived and thought as my mother had, enjoyed happier lives. Then I began to wonder why simple people were thought to be less clever than the sophisticated ones, when the simple people were often happier, and as everyone sought happiness, the wise must be those who knew how to find it and keep it.

Tortured by my thoughts I had come some way down the path and had reached the spot where the undergrowth grew thickest.

I did not know what it was that broke into my thoughts but I was suddenly uneasily aware of being watched. It might have been the cracking of a twig; it might have been a certain premonition. I could not say, but in that moment all my senses were alerted. I had the feeling that I was being watched and trailed . and for an evil purpose.

“You must never go out alone.” Those were the Comte’s injunctions. I had disobeyed them. Well, not exactly. Etienne had accompanied me to his mother’s and I had expected him to come and take me back, which no doubt he would have done had not I, incensed by his mother’s insinuations, left when I did.

Fifine, my mare, had been ambling quietly along for it was difficult to gallop or canter along this path. It would be dangerous, for she needed to pick her way carefully lest she trip over a gnarled root or a tangle of bracken.

“What is it, Fifine?” I whispered.

She moved forward cautiously.

I looked about me. It seemed dark because of the trees. There was silence and then suddenly a sound . a stone being dislodged . a presence, close . very close.

I was fortunate on that day. I leaned forward to speak to Fifine, to urge her forward and just as I did so a bullet whistled past that spot where a few seconds before my head had been.

I did not hesitate. I dug in my heels. I said: “Go, Fifine!” She did not need to be told. She was as aware of danger as I was.

Neither of us cared for the unevenness of the path. We had to get away from whoever was trying to kill me.

There could be no doubt that that was the intention for another shot rang out. This was wider of the mark but clearly I was the target.

It was with tremendous relief that I came into the stables.

One of the grooms came forward and took Fifine from me. I said nothing to him. I thought it wiser not to. My legs were trembling so much that I could scarcely walk.

I went to my room and threw myself on my bed.

I lay there staring up at the canopy. Someone had tried to kill me. Why? Someone had lain in wait in the undergrowth waiting for me to pass along. Who had known that I had visited Gabrielle?

Etienne. Leon, I remembered, had been there when Etienne had suggested the visit. I had mentioned it to Margot. Any of the servants might have known.

Had someone lain in wait for me? But for that sudden bending forward to speak to Fifine the chances were that I should now be lying dead in the lane.

Margot put her head round the door.

“Minelle, where are you? I heard you come in.” Then she saw me.

“What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

I said, my teeth still chattering: “Someone has just tried to kill me.”

She sat on the bed and stared at me.

“What? When? Where?”

“In the path from Gabrielle LeGrand  house to the chateau. Half-way down the path I felt I was being stalked. It was lucky that I did. I leaned forward to urge Fifine on just as a bullet came whistling past my head.”

“It must have been someone shooting birds.”

“I think it was someone who wanted to kill me. There was a second shot and it was aimed at me.”

She had turned pale.

“So,” she said, ‘they are tired of throwing stones through our windows. Now they have decided to kill us. “

“I believe it was someone who wanted me out of the way.”

That’s nonsense. Who would? “

That,” I said unsteadily, ‘is what I have to find out.”

To face an attempt on one’s life is an unnerving experience and the shock is greater than one at first realizes.

Margot had spread the news. She was flatteringly concerned and horrified. We discussed it at table.

Etienne said, as Margot had: They have substituted guns for stones.”

Leon was unconvinced. They have no weapons. If they rose theirs would be scythes and pitchforks . not guns. Where would they get guns?

They haven’t enough money to buy bread . let alone guns. “

“But why Mademoiselle?”

She is reckoned to be one of us now,” answered Etienne.

They went on speculating and I could only believe that Etienne was right. One of them had procured a gun. Why should not one of the servants have stolen it from the gun room? After the behaviour of Bessell and Mimi I knew that even those whom we had misguidedly trusted were no friends of ours.

A subtle change had crept over the household. They knew of the attempt on my life and sometimes it seemed as though they regarded it as very significant. It was as though it were a sign of the changing mood. The time when they threw stones was passing; they were ready to take stronger action. There was a brooding tension inside the house which I had not noticed before. That such existed outside, I had been well aware, but now it seemed to be creeping closer.

When I saw Mimi she would cast down her eyes as though she were ashamed, as well she might be. It was different with Bessell. His manner had become almost truculent. There was the implication: You have to think twice about giving me orders now. I know too much.

I think that perhaps the most distressing of all was NouNou. For most of the time she was shut away in the rooms she had occupied with the Comtesse. She would not allow anything to be touched in those apartments and the Comte had said that she was to be humoured. The servants said they could hear her talking to the Comtesse as though she were still there; and on those occasions when I saw her she would look at me with wide staring eyes seeming to see nothing. The Comtesse’s death had unbalanced her, it was said.

Leon and Etienne were greatly concerned about what had happened to me.

Etienne blamed himself. T should have been there to bring you back to the chateau,” he said.

“I intended to come and half an hour later would have been there. I thought you would stay longer.”

I did not wish to explain to him that I had found his mother’s insinuations so offensive that I had no alternative but to leave.

I merely said: “The shot might have been fired from the bushes if you had been there.”

“I  suppose so,” he admitted.

“Of course it wasn’t meant for you personally … just anyone who was not a peasant. But if I’d been there I should have been through those bushes and caught the villain. You must be careful. Never go out unattended again.”

Leon was equally concerned. He waylaid me once when I was in the garden alone and said quietly: “I want to speak to you. Mademoiselle Minelle.”

As we walked away from the chateau together he went on:

“I think you may be in danger.”

“You are thinking of the shot?”

He nodded.

“Etienne thinks it was not meant for me personally. I suppose we are all in danger.”

“It’s the gun that puzzles me,” he said.

“Had it been a stone … or even a knife thrown at you, I could have understood it more. I don’t think it was merely a sign of the times.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that you should lose no time in getting back to England. I wish I could take you.” He looked at me quizzically.

“Dear Minelle, you should not be involved in all this.” He waved his arms.

“It is too unsavoury.”

“But who would want to kill me? No one here really knows me personally.”

He shrugged his shoulders. There has been a death at the chateau and there are unpleasant rumours. “

“Don’t you believe that the Comtesse took her own life?”

Again that lifting of the shoulders. Her death was opportune. The Comte is now free. It is what he has wanted for a long time. We do not know what happened. Perhaps we shall never know, but people talk. I can tell you that they will be talking of the death of the Comtesse in the years to come and there will always be speculation. That is how legend grows up. Do not let it concern you. Go away. Put it all behind you. You do not belong in this decaying society. “

“I have promised to stay with Margot.”

“She will have her own life. You will have yours. You are being caught up in matters which you do not really understand. You judge people by yourself, but let me tell you-all people are not so honest.” He smiled at me frankly.

“I would be your friend … your very good friend. I have a great admiration for you. I would come to England with you but I am chained here and here I must remain. But please go. You are in danger here.

That is a warning which should not be ignored. Good luck was with you once. It may not be again. “

“Tell me what you know. Who would want to kill me?”

“All I know is that you must suspect everyone … everyone until you have proved them to be innocent.”

“You know something.”

“I know this: You are a good and charming young lady whom I admire and wish to see in safety. While you are here you are in danger. Please go back to England. There is still time. Who knows, very soon it may be too late.”

I turned to him and looked into his face. There was real concern in those vivid blue eyes and his smile was not jaunty as it usually was.

I liked him very much. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry I had once thought I saw his face at the window when the stone had been thrown into the ballroom.

Then a terrible feeling of insecurity came to me. He had said: Trust no one. No one. Not Leon, Etienne, not even the Comte.

He looked at me rather wistfully and said softly: “Perhaps … when this is over … I will come to see you in England. Then we may talk of … many things.”

Margot was greatly concerned.

“Just suppose that bullet had killed you. What should have done?”p>

I couldn’t help smiling. That was a typical Margot remark.

But she was anxious on my account as well as her own. I would often find her watching me intently.

“It’s frightening you, Minelle,” she said.

“You look different.”

“I’ll get over it.”

“I’ll swear you didn’t sleep well last night.”

T kept dozing, half awake, half dreaming I was back in the lane. Once I thought I saw a face in the bushes. “

“Whose face?” she asked eagerly.

“Just a face…”

That was not quite true. It was a face I had seen before.

The face which I saw on the night of the ball. Leon’s face . and yet not Leon. It was as though a mischievous artist had sketched a few lines on Leon’s face-distorting it with rage, envy and a desire to harm. It was so unlike the Leon I had known that somehow I could not connect the two. Leon had always been kindly and during our conversation had been deeply concerned. I knew that he was tolerant more so than Etienne. He saw the people had a case but while he believed great concessions should be given to them, he did not believe in the destruction of a society. It seemed to me that Leon more than any of them understood what was needed and this was natural enough since he had an opportunity of seeing both sides of the case.

Margot talked a great deal about Chariot and her satisfaction that she had discovered him. She was in a rare euphoric mood. It was well, she said, that she had found out Bessell’s true nature. She did not believe Mimi was to blame. She had been influenced by Bessell, but she would be glad to be rid of them both.

“How long is the period of mourning?” she asked.

“It’s a year in England, I believe,” I replied.

“It’s probably the same in France.”

“A year … what a long time!”

“It seems unnecessary to set a time for mourning,” I commented sadly.

“When one has lost someone who is dear, the mourning goes on through one’s life. It is not so intense as it was at first, of course, but I don’t believe one ever forgets.”

“You’re thinking of your mother again. You were lucky to have such a mother, Minelle.”

“But if she had not been as she was, if she had been less good and kind and understanding, I shouldn’t be missing her so sorely now.

Sometimes I think she is still advising me. “

“Perhaps she is. Perhaps she told you to duck your head when you did so and saved your life.”

“Who knows?”

Margot said: “Minelle, you look exhausted. That’s not like you. You always have ten times more energy than the rest of us. You should go to bed and sleep and try not to see faces in the bushes.”

I did feel tired though I doubted whether I should sleep.

But I wanted to be alone so we said goodnight and she went to her room.

I lay in bed very tired yet sleepless. I could not stop myself going over every moment of that afternoon from the moment when I had said goodbye to Gabrielle to the time when I came riding into the chateau stables. I felt again the first uneasy tremor when I had fancied I was being watched and the mounting terror when I realized that someone was trying to kill me.

I started up in alarm when I heard a sound at my door. It was a sign of my state that my heart began to hammer against my side as I stared in fearful anticipation at the door. Margot came in. She was carrying a glass in her hand. Tor you, Mineue,” she said, setting it down by the bed.

“Nou-Nou’s special concoction, guaranteed to make you sleep.

I got it from her. “

I lowered my eyes. I thought of the Comte’s going into Ursule’s room, taking the bottle from Nou-Nou’s store. Was that what he had done? Had he given it to her before I saw him leaving by the terrace doors? But surely if he had she would not have been asleep so quickly, for she was almost asleep when I entered. And Nou-Nou could not have been far off. What had they said to each other during that last interview? Had she taken her own life and should I ever know? Was it possible that he . I would not let myself think it. But what did I really know of him? That potent spell which he cast over me lulled my common sense to sleep and I could only make excuses for him.

Margot was looking at me enquiringly. You’re dreaming. Still seeing faces? Drink this up and you’ll be all right by morning. “

“I’ll take it later I said.

“Stay and talk awhile.”

“You need sleep,” she said firmly and set the glass on the table by my bed. Then she sat down on the chair near my dressing-table on which stood three candles-only two of which were alight.

“Only two,” she said.

“It’s gloomy in here.”

“One was blown out when you opened the door.”

“As long as the three don’t go out. That’s a sign of death. One of ‘the servants said that on the night my mother died three candles in their room went out… one after the other.”

“You don’t believe such superstition, Margot!”

“None of us believe them until we prove them to be true, do we?”

“Some people are very superstitious.”

“It is usually those who have something to fear … people like sailors and miners. People who run certain hazards.”

“We all run hazards.”

“But not such obvious ones. Look, another candle has gone out.”

“You blew it.”

“I did not.”

“Light it again.”

“Oh no, that would be unlucky. We have to wait and see if the third goes out.”

There’s a draught coming from somewhere. “

“You always have to have a logical explanation for everything, don’t you!”

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“And you don’t believe in the candle legend?”

“Of course I don’t.”

There was silence for a few moments, then she said: “I have a feeling that something is going to happen soon. Do you think we can go and visit Chariot?”

“Of course we can’t. You have seen what disaster our first visit brought.”

“Disaster! When I found my baby! Oh, you’re thinking of that horrid Bessell. Well, I’ve settled him. Mimi is quite ashamed of him. She can’t do enough for me.”

“I don’t like it, Margot.”

“If only there wasn’t this waiting. It’s so silly. I don’t mourn my mother any more because my marriage has been postponed. These are not normal times, are they? That’s why we have to live dangerously … because we never really know how much longer we’ve got to live. You poor Minelle. You look so tired. I’m going to say goodnight now. Take your potion and sleep well.”

As she went out, shutting the door with a bang, the third candle went out. I had laughed at the superstition but I could not repress a shudder. For a moment I was in complete darkness but as my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, familiar objects began to take shape. I looked at the glass beside my bed. I picked it up but I did not put it to my lips.

The Comtesse had died from a draught. Someone had tried to kill me.

But it was Margot who had brought this and I knew she would never harm me.

I got out of bed and taking the glass with me went to the window. I threw out the contents. I would not want Margot to think I had been suspicious of a draught she had brought.

Now I was really wide awake. It was true I was very tired. My body needed rest but my mind was in no mood to grant it.

I lay down while thoughts chased themselves round and round in my head. I heard the tower clock striked twelve and one. Still I could not sleep.

Perhaps I should have taken the draught but it was too late for that now.

I dozed but I did not really sleep. My senses were too alert to allow me to. Then suddenly I was wide awake. I heard footsteps in the corridor footsteps which paused outside my door. Then my door was slowly opening.

At first I thought it was a ghost-so strange was the figure which came into my room. It was grey in the gloom hair streaming about the shoulders. A woman.

She came and stood by the bed looking down at me. She took the glass and smelt it. Then she leaned forward and saw that I was watching her.

“Nou-Nou,” I cried.

“What are you doing?”

She blinked and looked puzzled. She said: “What are you doing here?”

I rose from the bed and taking my robe wrapped it round me.

“Nou-Nou,” I said gently.

“What’s wrong? What do you want with me?”

My fingers were trembling as I lighted the three candles.

“She’s gone,” said Nou-Nou.

“She’ll never come back. Sometimes I think I hear her. I follow her voice. It leads me to odd places … but she’s never there.”

Poor Nou-Nou. The death of her beloved charge had indeed unbalanced her.

“You should go back to your bed,” I said.

“You should take one of your sleeping draughts.”

“She died after taking one,” she said.

“Because she took too much. You must not brood. She was ill, wasn’t she? You know how ill.”

“She didn’t,” cried Nou-Nou shrilly.

“She didn’t know how ill she would become.”

“Perhaps she did … and that was why …”

“He killed her. Right from the time the little girl was born he started to kill her. He wanted her out of the way and she knew it. She hated him … and he hated her. I hated him too. There was a lot of hatred in this household … and in time it killed her.”

“Nou-Nou, you can do no good by brooding on this. Perhaps it was best for her …”

“Best for her!” Her laughter was a shrill cackle.

“Best for him.” Then she turned her piercing gaze on me.

“And best for you … so you think. But don’t be too sure. He’s the devil, he is. No good can come to you through him.”

“You are talking without understanding, Nou-Nou,” I said.

“Please go back to your room.”

“You were awake when I came in here,” she said suddenly, the wildness dropping from her and being replaced by a certain cunning shrewdness which was more terrifying than her hysteria.

I nodded.

“You ought to have been asleep.”

Then I shouldn’t have been able to talk to you. “

“I didn’t come here to talk to you.”

“Why did you come here, then?”

She didn’t answer. Then she said: “I’m looking for her. Where is she?

They buried her in the vault, but I don’t think she’s there. “

“She is at peace now, NouNou.”

She was silent and I saw the tears slowly flowing down her , cheeks.

“My little mignon ne my little bird.”

“Don’t fret any more. Try to be reconciled. She was ill. She would have suffered a great deal of pain in time.”

“Who told you that?” she demanded, shrewd again.

“It was what I heard.”

“His tales … his excuses.”

“Nou-Nou, please go to your bed.”

“Three candles,” she said, and turning blew them out, one after another. She turned to look at me before she blew out the last and I quailed before the venom in her face.

With that she went to the door, holding her hand before her as a sleep-walker does.

The door shut. I was out of bed and saw to my relief that I could lock the door. I did this and immediately felt safe.

Then I lay in bed wondering why she had come to me. If I had taken her draught I should have been asleep. What would have happened then?

Sleep! How I longed for it! How I wanted to escape from my tortuous thoughts that went round and round in my head reaching no conclusion.

My only inference was: There is danger close-and particularly close to me. From whom does it come? And why? “

I lay waiting for the dawn and only with the comfort of daylight could I rest.

III

Three days later the Comte sent for us. Margot and I were to leave for Paris without delay.

I was not sorry to go. The mounting tension in the chateau was becoming unbearable. I felt I was watched and would find myself looking furtively over my shoulder whenever I was alone. I noticed that the servants regarded me oddly. I felt very unsafe.

Therefore it was a great relief to receive the summons.

It was a hot June day when we set out. There was a stillness in the air which in itself seemed ominous. The weather was sultry and there was thunder about.

The city had lost none of its enchantment, though the heat was almost intolerable after the freshness of the country.

I immediately noticed that there were numerous soldiers in the streets-members of the Swiss and French Guards who formed the King’s bodyguard. People stood about at street corners but not in large numbers. They talked earnestly together. The cafes, from which came the delicious smell of roasting coffee, were crowded. People overflowed into the streets where tables under flowered sunshades were placed for their convenience. They chattered endlessly and excitedly.

In the Faubourg Saint-Honore the Comte was waiting for us with some impatience.

He took my hands and held them firmly.

“I heard what happened,” he said.

“It was horrifying. I sent for you immediately. You must not return to the chateau until I do.” He seemed then to be aware of Margot.p>

“I have news for you,” he said.

“You are to be married next week.”

We were both too astounded to speak.

“In view of the state of-‘ the Comte waved his hands expressively everything, the Grassevilles and I have come to the conclusion that the marriage should not be delayed. It will necessarily be a quiet wedding. A priest will officiate here. Then you will go to Grasseville and Minelle will go with you … temporarily … until something can be arranged.”

Margot was delightedly astonished and when we went to our rooms to wash off the stains of the journey she came to me at once.

“At last!” she cried. There was no point in waiting, was there? It was all so silly. Now we shall leave here. My father will no longer be able to command me. “

“Perhaps your husband will do that.”

She laughed slyly.

“Robert! Never. I think I shall get on very well with Robert. I have plans.”

I was a little uneasy; Margot’s plans were usually wild and dangerous.

The Comte asked me to go to him and I found him in the library.

He said: “When I heard what had happened I was overcome with anxiety.

I had to find some way of bringing you here. “

“So you arranged your daughter’s marriage?”

“It seemed as good an answer as any.”

“You use drastic measures to get your way.”

“Oh come. It is time Margot was married. She is the sort who needs a husband. The Grassevilles are a family who have always been popular with the people … though how long’ that popularity will last, who can say. Henri de Grasseville S was a father to his fiefs and for that reason it seems difficult” , to imagine their turning against him.

They might, though,”;

in their present mood. Fidelity is not a noticeable quality among people now. They bear grudges more readily than gratitude. But I should feel happier if you were there. “

“It is good of you to be so concerned.”

“As usual, I think of my own good,” he said soberly.

“Tell me exactly what happened in the lane.”

I told him and he said: “It was a peasant taking a pot shot at someone from the castle and it happened to be you. It’s a step in a new direction for them. And where did they get hold of the gun? That’s a mystery. We are making sure that no firearms get into the hands of the rabble. That would be fatal.”

Is the situation deteriorating? ” I asked.

“It is always deteriorating. Each day we step a little nearer to disaster.” He looked at me earnestly.

“I think of you all the time,” he said.

“I dream of the day when we shall be together. Nothing … nothing must stand in the way of that.”

“There is so much standing in the way,” I said.

Tell me what. “

“I don’t really know you,” I answered.

“Sometimes you seem like a stranger to me. Sometimes you amaze me and yet at others I know exactly how you will act.”

“That will make life exciting for you. A voyage of discovery. Now listen to my plans. Marguerite will marry and you will go with her. I shall visit you at Grasseville and in due course you shall be my wife.”

I did not answer. I kept thinking of Nou-Nou at my bedside, of, Gabrielle LeGrand  insinuations. He had murdered Ursule, she had hinted, because he was tired of waiting to marry her, Gabrielle. He wanted a legitimate son. Gabrielle had already given him that son; all that was needed was his legitimization which would be easy if they married. His idea according to her, was to lead me along so that I might slip into the re1e of scapegoat. She would probably suggest now that he had arranged that I should be removed from the scene. What if he had taken that shot at me . or arranged that it should be fired?

How could I believe that? It was absurd. Yet some instinct within me was warning me.

He put his arms about me and said my name with the utmost tenderness. I did not resist. I wanted to stay there in his arms and turn my face away from reason.

It was as though Margot hugged some secret to herself which was too precious to tell even to me.

I was amazed how easily she could throw off her troubles and behave as though they had never existed. I was glad she had had the good sense not to bring Mimi with her. Mimi might well have refused to come as she was now soon to be married and with Bessell to command her she could well have been truculent. The new maid Louise was middle-aged and glad to step into Mimi’s shoes. At the same time Margot had dismissed the conduct of Bessell and Mimi as though it were of no consequence. I wished that I could think so.

We had a busy week, mostly shopping, and once more I was caught up in the excitement of the city. I would watch from my window at two o’clock each day when the wealthy set out in their carriages to keep their dinner appointments. It was indeed a sight, for the ladies’ headdresses were becoming so outrageous as to be almost comical. Some would mince along balancing these confections on their heads which would represent anything from a bird of paradise to a ship in full sail. These were the people who aped the nobility-which was a dangerous thing to do these days. In the Comte’s household and others of its kind dinner was at six which gave time to go to the playhouse or the opera by nine o’clock which was the time when the city took on a different character.

We visited a private playhouse on one occasion to see a very special performance of Beaumarchais’ Le Manage de Figaro, a play which the Comte said should never have been shown at this time as it was full of sly references to the decadent society which were a delight to those who wished to destroy it.

He was thoughtful and moody as we returned to the hotel.

He had a great deal on his mind and was often away on court matters.

It touched me that, in view of all that was happening, he found time to plan for my safety, although, of course, I did not believe his daughter’s marriage had been arranged for that reason.

Robert de Grasseville with his parents and a few of their servants arrived in Paris.

In her excitement Margot looked so beautiful that I could almost believe she really was in love. Even though her emotions might be superficial, they were all-important to her while she felt them.

The marriage took place in the chapel which was situated at the top of the house. One left behind the luxury of the apartments, ascended a spiral staircase and stepped into an entirely different atmosphere.

It was cold there. The floor was of flagged stone and there were six pews placed before an altar on which was a beautifully-embroidered cloth and above it a statue of the Madonna studded with glittering stones.

The ceremony was soon over and Margot and Robert came out of the chapel together looking radiant.

Immediately afterwards we sat at table. The Comte at the head, his new son-in-law on his right hand and Margot on his left. I sat next to Robert’s father, Henri de Grasseville.

It was clear that the two families were delighted with the match.

Henri de Grasseville whispered to me that the young pair were undoubtedly in love and how gratifying it was to him that this should be so.

“Frequently in families like ours marriages have to be arranged,” he said. It so often happens that the partners are unsuitable. Of course they often grow together. They are so young when they marry they have much to learn and they learn from each other.

This is happy from the start. “

I agreed with him that the young couple were happy, but I could not help wondering what he would have felt if he had known of Margot’s experience, and I fervently hoped that all would go well, but I did feel uneasy remembering the demands of those two servants whom she had trusted.

It will be well to leave Paris soon,” went on Henri de Grasseville.

“We are peaceful at Grasseville. There has been no sign of trouble.”

I warmed to him. There could not have been a man less like the Comte.

There was something innocent about him. He looked as though he believed the best of everyone. I glanced along the table at the Comte’s rather saturnine face. He looked like a man who had gone through life trying all manner of adventures and had come through with his idealism tarnished if not broken. I felt a smile curve my lips and at that moment he looked at me, caught me watching him and there was a look of quizzical enquiry in his eyes.

When the meal was over, we all gathered in the salon and the Comte said he thought it would be wise to lose no time in leaving for Grasseville.

“One can never be sure from one moment to another when the trouble will begin,” he said.

“It only needs some small pretext to set it off.”

Oh, Charles Auguste,” laughed Henri de Grasseville, ‘surely you exaggerate.”

The Comte lifted his shoulders. He was determined to have his way.

He came to me and whispered: “I must see you alone before you leave.

Go to the library. I will join you there. “

Henri de Grasseville was consulting the clock which hung on the wall.

“If we are to go today,” he said, ‘we should leave in an hour. Will that suit everyone? “

“It will,” said the Comte, speaking for us all.

I went at once to the library. In a short time he was with me.

“My dearest Minelle,” he said, ‘you wonder why I send you away so soon.”

“I understand that we must go.”

“Poor Henri! He has little notion of the situation. He remains in the country and thinks that because the lambs still bleat and the cows moo as they ever did, nothing is changed. I hope to God he can go on thinking it.”

“His is a comfortable philosophy.”

“I see you are in the mood for discussion and you are going to say he is a happy man. He goes on believing that everything is good. God watches over us, and the people are kindly innocents. One day he will have a rough awakening. But, you will say, at least he was happy before it came. I should like to take you up on that but there is little time left to us. Minelle, you have never said you loved me.”

“I do not speak lightly of such emotions as you do, having made love to so many women. I dare say you have told people many times that you loved them when all you felt was a passing fancy.”

“So when you do tell me I may be completely and utterly sure?”

I nodded.

He drew me to him and said: “Oh my God, Minelle, how I long for that day. When … Minelle?”

“There is so much I must understand.”

“So you don’t really love me as I am.”

“I have to know what you are before I can love you.”

“Tell me this. You like my company. I know that. You do not find me repulsive. You like me near you. You sparkle when you look at me, Minelle. You always did. That was why I knew.”

“I have lived such a different life from yours. I have to adjust myself to new standards and I don’t know whether I can.”

“Minelle, can you hear the warning bells? The tocsins are sounding.

All through my life I have heard what happened to this city on the eve of St. Bartholomew’s Day. That was two hundred years ago . two hundred and seventeen to be exact. There were some who felt that coming. It was in the air for weeks before it broke into fearful slaughter. That is how it is now . but before what is to ‘come, the Bartholomew will be considered insignificant. Those bells are saying: Live fully now . for tomorrow you may not be able to live at all. Why do you deny me . when any night might be my last? “

I was afraid. I found myself clinging to him. Then I thought: This is a trick to make me yield. And that showed me clearly the nature of my feelings for him.

I did love him, I supposed, if loving meant wanting to be with someone, to talk to him, to feel his arms about me, to learn how to love and be everything to him. Yes, that was true. But I could not trust him. My mind, in its moments of clarity, told me that Ursule had died too fortuitously. I knew that he was adept at making love and I was a novice. I had everything to learn and surely he, in his vast experience, had learned everything . including how to deceive.

I must not be foolish. So far I could congratulate myself on having kept him at arms length in spite of those occasions when my senses had cried out to me to release them. My stem upbringing, the memory of my beloved mother had always stood between me and folly.

“So,” he was saying tenderly, ‘you do care for me? “

I drew myself from him. I did not look at him for fear of losing my grip on my good sense.

“I have grown fond of your family,” I said.

“I have been with you for some time and Margot was always my friend. I do see, though, that we have lived different lives and have responded to different ethics. I have a great deal to consider.”

He looked at me through half-closed eyes.

“Yes, it is true that you have been brought up in a different society, but you are an adventurer, Minelle. You do not wish to shut yourself in your little world and never explore others. Your nature was clear when you came peeping into the rooms at Derringham Manor. Now that was not what a well-brought-up little girl should do.”

“I have grown up a good deal since then.”

“Ah yes. You have changed. You see the world through different eyes.

You have learned that men and women are not neatly divided into the good and the bad. Is that true, Minelle? “

“Of course it’s true. No one is all good, no one all bad.”

“Even I?”

“Even you.” I was thinking of how he had looked after Yvette and made sure that Chariot was well cared for.

“Well then?”

“I am unsure,” I said.

“Still unsure?”

“I need time.”

“Time is just what we lack. Anything in the world I will give you but that.”

“That is all I want. There is so much I have to understand.”

“You are thinking of Ursule.”

“If one considers marrying a man who has already had a wife it is difficult not to think of her.” “You need have no jealousy regarding her.” ;

“It was not jealousy I was thinking of.”

“Her unfortunate end? Good God, I believe you think I killed her. Do you think me capable of that?”

I looked at him steadily and answered: “Yes.”

He stared at me for a moment or two and then burst into laughter.

“And even so … you would consider marrying me?”

I hesitated and he went on: “But of course you are considering. Why else would you ask for time? Oh Minelle, so clever and so obtuse. But you have to persuade the prim side of your nature that it would somehow be comme il faut to marry a murderer! Oh Minelle, my love, my darling, what fun we are going to have with that prim side of yours.”

Then he held me against him and I was laughing with him I could not help it. I returned his kisses in an inexperienced way which I knew delighted him.

The clock on the bureau pinged impatiently as though to warn us of the all-important passage of time.

He was aware of it. He took my hands.

“At least,” he said, “I know. It gives me hope. I have to be in Paris for a while. You understand this.

There are dangerous men rising against the King, urging the people to destroy the Monarchy and all it stands for. The most dangerous of them all is the Due d’Orleans who preaches sedition night after night in the Palais Royale. I must stay here and knowing what I know I can have no peace until you are safe in the country . or comparatively safe.

Go with Margot. Look after her. She is a wayward child . yes, little more than a child. She does not seem to grow up. She has her secret . ” He shrugged his shoulders.

“That may bring drama into her life. Who knows? She will need you to care for her, Minelle. She will need your good sound analytical sense. Take care of her and yourself. Protect her from her own folly … and one day I will protect you from yours. I will see that you learn the wisdom of accepting life … taking what it offers … living and never turning away from the best.”

Then he kissed me Imgeringly, tenderly; and I left him.

AT THE CHATEAU GRAS SEVILLE

I

Grasseville was a beautiful chateau north of Paris, dominating a quiet market town. It was true that a peaceful atmosphere did emanate from the place and one was immediately aware of it. It was as though the envy, malice and hatred which prevailed elsewhere, had passed over it.

Here the men touched their caps and the women curtsied as we rode by.

I noticed that Henri and Robert de Grasseville called greetings to many of them and asked after members of their families. I could understand why the impending storm seemed far away.

It was true that Henri de Grasseville had agreed that the marriage should take place although convention demanded a longer period of mourning for the bride, but I supposed it had been the Comte who had insisted and Henri was the kind of man who would be ready to give way to the wi of others.

Margot was delighted with her marriage. She told me she was deeply in love with Robert and as they see me though they hated to be parted, it was clear that they v lovers. She did, however, find time to come to my’re sometimes. Our talks had become so much a part of our that I really believed she would have missed them if they ever ceased. She came in one day and stretched herself in the armchair near the mirror where she could keep glancing at herself will satisfaction. She certainly looked very pretty.

“It’s perfect,” she announced.

“Robert never dreamed there was anyone like me. I think I was meant for mar ri Minelle.”

“I am sure you were.”

“While you were meant to teach. That’s your metier in life.”

“Oh thank you. How very exciting for me!”

She laughed.

“Robert is amazed by me. He expected me to shrink and protest and be overcome by modesty.”

“Which of course you were not.”

“I certainly was not.”

“Margot, he didn’t guess …”

She shook her head.

“He is the sweetest innocent ever born. It wouldn’t occur to him, would it? No one would believe we had that fantastic adventure.” Her face crumpled suddenly: “Of course, I still think of Chariot.”

The best thing is for you to console yourself that he is in Yvette’s hands and he could not be in better. “

“I know. But he is mine.”

She sighed and her exultation was a little dimmed. But she was so delighted with her marriage that I was sure her longing for Chariot had abated a little.

There were no restrictions on riding alone here. No one ever thought of danger. Margot and I went into the little market town to make purchases and we were greeted with the utmost respect in every shop.

They all knew, of course, that we came from the chateau and that Margot was the future Comtesse.

It was like an oasis in the midst of the desert. When we were tired we would sit down outside a patisserie under gaily-coloured umbrellas and drink coffee with little creamy gateaux, the most delicious I had ever tasted. Le the had not yet come to Grasseville and there was no English spoken which I supposed was another sign of a lack of change.

The myth of my being the cousin was upheld and I was soon known in the town as Mademoiselle La Cousine Anglaise. My command of the language was marvelled at and I would sit and chat even more readily than Margot did, for she was too immersed in her own affairs to feel much interest for those of others.

How I loved the smell of baking bread and hot coffee which filled the streets in early morning! I liked to watch the baker draw the loaves out of the oven with his long long-like instrument. I loved the market days when the produce was brought in on hand carts or those drawn by aged donkeys l fruit, vegetables, eggs and squawking chickens. I loved to buy from the stalls-a piece of ribbon, some sweetmeat conection tastefully wrapped and tied with ribbon. I could never gbsist buying and how they loved to sell. I was sure that fargot and I and the servants we had brought with us were Sod business and welcomed for that.

The shops were different from those in the big towns. Purchasing was a lengthy matter and one was expected to consider a good deal before buying even the smallest purchase. A hasty transaction would be frowned on and a lot of pleasure denied both vendor and purchaser by such a process.

One of my favourite shops was that of the grocer-druggist who sold so many aromatic goods. There was cinnamon, oil, paint, brandy, herbs of all kinds (hung drying from the beams of the ceiling), preserves, ground pepper and poisons such as arsenic and aqua fortis; and there was of course the omnipresent garlic. There were tall stools in his shop where one could sit and talk. to the owner who often acted as a doctor and told people what to take for this and that ailment.

What a delightful adventure it seemed during those warm sunny days to go into the town and exchange pleasantries with the people one met-not a cloud in that blue sky, no trace of what was below the horizon.

Alas, the horizon was not very far away and inevitably creeping nearer.

Only rarely did a carriage come rattling through the town. They were days to remember. I was sitting in the square one day when one came through. The visitors left their carriage and came into the inn for refreshment. I watched them-nobility by their dress and manners, a little watchful, unsure of their reception. They went into the inn-two men and a woman and two grooms followed them keeping close in case there was trouble. The inn sign creaked Le Roi Soleil. And, there was Louis in all his splendour looking haughtily down on the street. I sat waiting until they emerged refreshed with wine and. j those creamy confections of which I was becoming fond. I They were talking together. Scraps of their conversation! came to me.

“What a lovely spot! Like old times …” Their carriage drove away. The dust settled after them. Yes, they had discovered our oasis, i I went thoughtfully back to the chateau and I had not been in very long when Margot came to me. Some plan was afoot I knew by the way in which she scintillated with excitement.

“Something wonderful is going to happen,” she announced.

For a moment I thought she was going to tell me she was to have a child. Then I realized it was too early yet. Her next words astonished and alarmed me.

“Chariot is coming here.”

“What?”

“Don’t look so amazed. Isn’t it the most natural thing? Shouldn’t my baby be with me?”

“You have told Robert and he has agreed …”

“Told Robert! Do you think I’m crazy! Of course I haven’t told Robert.

I’ve been reading the Bible and then the idea came to me. It was divine assistance. God has shown me the way. “

“May I share in this divine secret?”

“You remember Moses in the bulrushes. The dear little baby. His mother put him in a cradle and hid him there … just as my little Chariot shall be hidden.”

“It is nothing like Moses in the bulrushes.”

“It gave me the idea anyway. I know that Yvette will help. You have to help me too. You are to find him.”

“I don’t understand what you are talking about, Margot.”

“Of course you don’t because you keep on interrupting. The plan is … and it’s such a good one … it can’t fail … the plan is that Yvette places the baby … not in the bulrushes because we haven’t any … but outside the chateau. He’ll be in a basket looking adorable. Someone will find him and I have decided it shall be you.

You’ll bring him into the castle and say: “I have found a baby. What are we going to do with him?” I shall seize on him and love him from the moment I set eyes on him. I shall plead with Robert to let me keep him . and in his present state he can deny me nothing. So I shall have Chariot. “

“You can’t do this, Margot.”

“Why not? Tell me why not.”

“It’s bad enough as it is but this is a double deceit.”

“I don’t care if it’s a hundredth deceit if it brings me Chariot.”

I was thoughtful. I could see it happening. It could work. It was simple though ingenious. But Margot had forgotten that it was already known to Bessell and Mimi that she had had a child.

I said: “You will be running greater risks.” } “Minelle,” she said dramatically, “I am a mother.”

I closed my eyes and visualized it. I was to be the one to find the child. Someone in the plan must do that. It was too hazardous to be left until the child was found naturally.

“Yvette …” I began.

“I have arranged it with Yvette, telling her what I want.”

“And she is agreeable?”

“You forget Chariot is my baby.”

“Yes, but she agreed to keep it away from you. That was what your father ordered.”

“For once I don’t care what my father ordered. Chariot is my baby and I can’t live without him. Besides, the plan doesn’t end there.

Remember the mother of the baby in the bulrushes. “

“Yes,” I answered.

“She came to the princess and was the baby’s nurse. Well, that is what Yvette shall be. I shall have to engage a nurse for the baby and I will think of my own nurse Yvette who strangely enough is on a visit nearby. She was coming to see me. It is like an act of God.”

“A little too much coincidence to ring true.”

“Life is full of coincidences and this is only a little one. Yvette comes. She loves the baby on sight and when I say:

“Yvette, you must come and be nurse to this dear little foundling boy whom I have adopted as my son and call Chariot after my father…”

“Perhaps your husband might think he should be called after him,” “I shall refuse.

“No, dear Robert,” I shall say.

“Your name is for our first-born son.” “Margot, you practise deceit with an amazing skill.”

“It is a useful gift and carries one through life with a certain ease.”

“Honesty would be more commendable.”

Are you suggesting that I should go to Robert and say:

“I took a lover before I knew you. I thought I should marry him and Chariot is the result.” You would not have me so unkind to Robert.”

“Margot, you are incorrigible. I can only hope this plan will succeed.”

“Of course it will. We will make sure it does. Your part is easy. You just find him.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning. “

“Tomorrow! “

There is no point in delay. Go down tomorrow morning early. Yvette will not leave him until she sees you. She will be hiding in the shrubbery. You were restless and could not sleep, so you decided to take a breath of fresh air. Then as you walked in the gardens, you heard a baby cry. You found the basket. The adorable Chariot looked up at you and smiled. You lost your hean to him at once and persuaded me to keep him. “

“Are you going to need a great deal of persuasion?”

“I shall have to consult with my husband. I might weep a little, but I think he is going to be ready to grant my wishes and that he will agree right away. He’ll love Chariot. He longs for us to have a baby.”

“Other people’s are not always so desirable to a man as his own. And I presume he is not to know it is yours.”

“Good heavens, no. And please don’t refer to Chariot as ” it”.”

“I am surprised that Yvette has agreed to this after being employed by your father.”

“Yvette knows that I’ll never be happy without him and if she is here as his nurse … you see what I mean.”

“I see absolutely.”

Then let us get on with the plan. Yvette will wait until she sees you close by. You will see her place the basket in the shrubbery. She will disappear and then you merely go and find darling Chariot. “

I thought of the plan from all angles and I had to admit that it could work providing everything went according to our schedule.

I began to grow excited about it although I had considerable misgivings. But then ever since I had known of Chariot’s existence before his birth. I had realized that considerable difficulties would be involved.

Thus, on a bright morning, I rose from my bed a little before six, put on shoes and a wrap and went to the shrubbery. Yvette was there. She was carrying the basket which at my approach, with infinite care, she placed in the bushes. As soon as she had put it down I went swiftly to it. It was almost as Margot had described it, for Chariot himself opened his eyes and gave me such a knowing look and a crowing laugh that it was as though he were fully aware of the conspiracy.

I carried the basket into the castle. One of the footmen who was in the hall stared at me in amazement.

I said: “A child has been left in the shrubbery.”

He was speechless. He could only stare disbelievingly at Chariot. He put a hand on the shawl which was wrapped round the baby and them-at her splendid gold braid on his cuifs immediately attracted Chariot’s attention. He put out a plump hand to grasp it but the footman jumped back as though there was a snake in the basket instead of a baby.

“He won’t bite,” I said, and I realized I had named the child’s sex.

Chariot crowed as though with derision for us both.

“Mademoiselle, what will you do with it?”

I said: I think I must ask Madame. It will be for her to decide. “

At that moment Madame herself appeared on the staircase, poised, ready to play her part.

“What is it?” she demanded, a little imperiously I thought.

“Cousin, what are you doing up at this hour of the morning disturbing us all?”

As though she did not know and was not completely ready for her role in this drama which was somehow more like a comedy.

“Margot,” I said, “I have found a baby.”

“Pound a what! A baby! What nonsense I Are you playing some game?

Where could you find a . But it is! What can it mean? “

Her eyes were dancing, her cheeks flushed. She was enjoying this. It was dangerous, but that would only add to her enjoyment.

“A baby!” she cried.

“Really, Cousin, how could you find a baby! But what a little darling. Is it not adorable?”

She played her part better than I and I knew what it cost to caH Chariot “it”

Margot turned to the footman.

“Don’t you think this is a beautiful child, Jean?” The footman looked blank and she went on impatiently.

“I never saw a more beautiful child. “

She leaned over the basket. Chariot regarded her solemnly.

“He looks like a Chariot to me. Does he to you, Cousin?”

“That could well be his name,” I admitted.

“From now on he is Chariot. I must take him to my husband. How excited he will be to know that we have a baby.”

Robert had come down to see what had happened to her. He stood on the stairs and I thought how young he looked, how little aware of the real nature of the girl he had married.

Margot ran to him and slipped her arm through his. He smiled at her.

There was no doubt that he was very much in love with her.

“What has happened, my dearest?” he asked.

“Oh Robert, such a marvelous thing. Minelle has found a baby.”

The poor young man looked bewildered as well he might.

She babbled on; “Yes, he was in the bushes. He must have been left there. Minelle found him this morning. Isn’t he enchanting?”

“We must find his parents,” said Robert.

“Oh yes,” she interrupted impatiently.

“Later … perhaps. Oh look, what a little darling. See how contentedly he comes to me.”

She picked him up in her arms while Robert watched them fondly, thinking, no doubt, of the children they would have.

The news was soon spreading through the chateau. The Comte and Comtesse came to inspect the child. They were indulgent when they saw Margot’s delight in him. Their thoughts were obvious. She will make a good mother, after all, which must have been comforting for before the arrival of the baby no one would have connected Margot with doting motherhood.

It seemed that the entire chateau revolved round the baby. The Comte said that they would soon find the parents. Someone must know whose the child was. It was very strange, the Comtesse pointed out, that the baby had obviously been very well cared for. He must be almost a year old. Look at his clothes. They had not come from some poor home.

She was not as sure as the Comte that it would be possible to find his parents.

For several days enquiries were made and the whole of the town knew about the baby up at the chateau. It was the

Comte’s opinion that someone had had to leave the country suddenly times being what they were and they had left the baby near the chateau knowing that the Grassevilles would never allow it to suffer neglect. It was the first time I had heard a suggestion in Grasseville that times were changing. The Comtesse did not agree. She believed that no parents would leave a child behind. In her opinion some poor mother had stolen the clothes from her employer and left the baby at the chateau in the hope that there would be a good life for him there.

Whatever they thought. Chariot remained and Margot took charge of him to the amusement of her new family. She was so excited by the presence of the baby, so delighted to look after him, that they were all astonished and being the kind of people they were the baby began to take charge of them. It might have been that Chariot possessed some special charm but he very quickly became the darling of the household.

He had his mother’s imperious ways and his father’s adventurous nature. However, the fact remained that Margot persuaded Robert that she could never be really happy again if Chariot were taken away from her and that he must be the first of that big family they had promised themselves.

The nursery was refurbished. We went for forages into the market. In the streets we were stopped and asked how the baby was getting on.

“And the little one is settling in, eh? What a happy little boy to have come to the chateau and Madame.”

Chariot may have made an inopportune entry into the world but he was fast taking up an important place in it. Even the Comte was hoping that no one would come to claim the child.

Margot declared that she had never been so happy in her life and it really seemed so. She glowed. She laughed a great deal and only I knew that it was the laughter of triumph and that she was congratulating herself on her cleverness.

The time has come,” she told me, ‘to put into effect the second part of our plan. I have hinted to Robert that we need a nurse and who better than a trusted woman who knew me as a baby and was actually in my nursery.”

It was only a matter of time before Yvette came to Grasseville.

II

I had liked Yvette from the moment I had seen her but it had not occurred to me that her coming would be so important to me.

When she arrived at the castle Margot embraced her affectionately.

“It is wonderful that you were able to come,” she said, for the benefit of the servants.

“I have told you what has happened. You will love little Chariot.”

In Margot’s bedroom the three of us were together.

“It worked!” cried Margot.

“It worked magnificently.” She added rather patronizingly: “You both played your parts well.”

“Not as well as you did,” I commented wryly.

“Naturally you had the leading part.”

“And I was the author of our little play. It was a wonderful idea, you must admit.”

“I’ll tell you at the end,” I said.

“Spoilsport.” She put out her tongue at me as she used to when we were in school together. Then she turned to Yvette.

“He grows more adorable every day. I wonder if he’ll remember you.”

“Let’s go and see,” said Yvette.

Chariot kicked and crowed with obvious pleasure at the sight of Yvette.

Margot picked him up and hugged him.

“Not too pleased, my angel, or you will make me jealous Yvette took him from her and laid him back in his cot.

“You over-excite him,” she said.

“He loves to be excited. Don’t forget he is my own flesh and blood.”

That,” said Yvette gently, ‘is something we must try to forget. You have him now. He is your adopted son. That is very satisfactory.”

“Do you think I shall ever forget that he is my very own?”

Yvette shook her head.

was because life in the chateau was in fact affected by what was happening outside and people no longer visited each other as they once had. The Comte and Comtesse de Grasseville did not care to have extravagant parties when there was so much talk about the poverty in the country. I think the Comte and his Comtesse really preferred the simpler life.

In any case that was how it was and it meant that Yvette and I often sat or walked together in the gardens where we could talk more easily without being overheard, and I think we both feared that by a word we might betray the true story of Chariot’s arrival at the chateau.

It was not long before Yvette was talking of the past.

The most exciting years of her life had been spent at the Chateau Silvaihe.

“I went there when I was fifteen years old,” she told me.

“It was my first post as nursery maid under Madame Rocher … otherwise Nou-Nou. She had gone to the Comtesse Ursule when she was born and was always with her. She adored Madame Ursule. Her whole life was concentrated on her. There was a story about it. She was married briefly … obviously to a Monsieur Rocher. What he did I never learned, but I did hear that there was some accident before her child was due to be born. He died and she lost the child as well. That was why she went to Ursule and it was said that Ursule saved her reason and she transferred her affection to her employer’s child. It was very sad.”

“Poor NouNou!”

“She was wet-nurse to Ursule and used to say: ” That child is part of me. ” She could scarcely bear her out of her sight and if ever Ursule was in trouble she would defend her without question. It was not good for the child. When she was very young, if any of us offended her she would threaten to tell Nou-Nou. Nou-Nou encouraged her in this and Ursule was quite an unpleasant little girl at that time. But she grew out of it. When she was about six or seven she drew away from Nou-Nou but not completely. They were too close for that, but she felt restrained, smothered by too much devotion. It can be like that.”

I agreed.

“What kind of woman was Ursule?”

“Before her marriage she was quite a normal girl, interested in balls and clothes. It was after her marriage that she changed.”

How long were you with her? “

“Until about six years ago. Margot was growing up then and there was no longer the need to keep a nursery. She had a governess and later she went to England, as you know. It was then that the Comte gave me my house and enough to live on and keep a servant. So I settled down with Jose and thought to spend the rest of my life there.”

“You will go back one day.”

“Yes, when Chariot is older, I dare say.”

“Do you miss the chateau! Your house with Jose must be very different.”

She was silent and a misty look came in her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, “I missed the chateau. I had one great friendship in my life. I don’t think I should ever want to go back.”

I longed to know of her great friendship though I felt it would be impolite to ask. I waited and soon it came.

“I know this sounds strange but our friendship grew up gradually. She was good-hearted but a little imperious. That was due to her upbringing.”

“You mean Ursule?”

“Yes. I had done something … I forget what now, but it offended her.

There was the usual cry of “I’ll tell NouNou.” I must have been in a perverse mood for I retorted: “All right, you little tale-bearer, tell her.” She stared at me. I remember now her little face, scarlet with rage. She must have been eight years old . yes, she was. I remember exactly. She ran to Nou-Nou, who of course came bearing down on me like an angel with a flaming sword to defend her darling. I said, “I am tired of always giving way to this spoilt child.”

“Then,” said Nou-Nou, “you had better pack your box and get out,”

“AU right,” I cried, “I will,” although I had nowhere to go. Nou-Nou knew my plight well.

“And where will you go?” she asked. I replied: “Anywhere is better than fussing over a silly spoilt child and her besotted old nurse.”

“Get out,” shouted Nou-Nou. Nou-Nou was the power in the Brousseau nursery. Madame and Monsieur Brousseau doted on their daughter and applauded Nou-Nou’s adulation, so if Nou-Nou said I was to go there could be no appealing less ness of my situation and gave way to despair. I put my head among my meagre treasures and sobbed in fear and misery. Then suddenly I was aware of being watched and when I lifted my head, saw Ursule standing there. I can still see her very clearly as she was at that moment.

Brown curls tied with blue ribbons and a white embroidered gown to her little ankles. She was a very pretty child with wide brown eyes and thick straight hair which Nou-Nou lovingly put into curl papers every night.

<I remember even now how she used to sit at NouNou’s feet while Nou-Nou twirled the papers deftly and sang songs of Brittany where she came from, or told legends and stories in a sing-song monotonous voice which used to send us all to sleep. At that moment as Ursule looked at me something passed between us. I realized with a little shock that the child was actually sorry for the storm she had provoked.

Previously I had thought her a little minx with no thought for anyone but herself. But no, she had some feeling in her.

“The odd part about it was, she told me later, that some feeling for me started to grow in her then. She didn’t know what it was. All she knew was that she did not want me to go. She said, imperious as ever:

“Don’t put any more in your box.” And then with an amazing gentleness she took the things out and laid them back in the drawers. Nou-Nou came in and, seeing me still kneeling on the floor, looking dazed, said:

“Come on, girl. It’s time you had done.” Then my little champion lifted her head in a way she had and said: “She is not going, Nou-Nou.

I want her to stay. “

“She’s a bad, insolent girl,” said Nou-Nou.

“I know,” replied Ursule, ” but I want her to stay. “

“Why, my little darling, she called you a tattle taler

“Well, I am, Nou-Nou. I do tattletale. want her to stay.” Poor Nou-Nou, she was nonplussed, but of course her little darling’s word was law. “p>

“So she changed from that day?”

“It wasn’t so sudden as that. We had our ups and downs. But I never gave way to her as Nou-Nou did, and I think she liked that. I was a good deal younger than Nou-Nou. I was about fifteen at this time when Ursule was eight. Then it was a big difference. It grew less as we grew older. From that day she took an interest in me. I was in a way her creation because but for her I should have been turned away.

Although she was still Nou-Nou’s little pet and was constantly in her company, she would often sneak away to me and she began to confide in me in an astonishing way. Nou-Nou was a little jealous at first but she realized that her relationship with her darling was very different from mine and so devoted was she to Ursule that she was ready to accept anything that gave her pleasure.

“I had a flair for clothes not making them … we had the seamstresses for that … but adding little touches to them, making suggestions which could lift a dress out of the commonplace. Ursule would have me with her when the seamstresses were fitting her. We used to go into the town together to make purchases, for she would insist that I accompany her.

“That was not all. She often asked my advice although she rarely took it. We became fast friends in a way which was not usual between a servant and the daughter of the house.

“The Brousseau parents, as I said, were indulgent. Yvette is a good girl, they used to say. She looks after Ursule as Nou-Nou couldn’t.

And so we grew together like two sisters. “

“And that was the greatest friendship of your life. What made you leave?”

“I offended the Comte. I told Ursule that she should stand up to him and criticized him to his face. He said that Marguerite no longer needed a nurse for I was looking after her at that time. And he seat me away.”

“I wonder Ursule allowed it.”

Yvette’s lips curled.

“Everything had changed very much by then. It did after her marriage. He frightened her from the first moment she saw him.”

“So in spite of the fact that he gave you your home and your comfortable retirement you do not like him.”

“Like him!” She laughed. It seems an odd word to use in connection with him. I wonder if anyone likes the Comte. People fear him. There’s no doubt of that. Many respect his wealth and position. Many more hate him. I suppose those who indulge in passing amours with him might say they loved him. Buth’feehim! “

“And you are one of those who hate him?”

“I would hate anyone who did what he did to Ursule.”

“Was he so cruel to her?”

“If she had never married him she would still be alive today.”

“You are not saying that he … killed her?”

“My dear Mademoiselle, I am saying just that.”

I shook my head and she put her hand over mine.

After that she said nothing more and for that day our tete-a-tete was over.

I thought a great deal about what Yvette had said. It was almost as though she had some secret information. If she had, I must discover what it was. That it would be detrimental to the Comte she had imp Bed

I shivered as I recalled vividly the expression on her face when she had talked of his killing his wife.

If he were there beside me I would be ready to believe this could not be true; when he was not with me I could assess the facts more calmly.

I must talk to Yvette. If I knew more of Ursule’s nature I might be able to throw some light on the subject.

Margot asked me to go into the town to buy ribbons for a gown that was being made for Chariot.

“You must go, Minelle,” she said.

“You will choose the right colour.”

I went alone. There had never been any question of our being escorted by day in -Grasseville and it would not be the first time I had gone into the town by myself.

The Chateau Grasseville far less grand than that of Silvaine was rather like a glorified country mansion scarcely worthy of the name chateau. The family owned another castle forty miles north-much bigger, I beard-but this was their favourite. It was gracious enough with its four pepper-pot towers and its grey stone walls rising from the slight incline which enabled it to remain in sight of the town and, standing aloof as it did, to dominate it.

It was mid-morning. The sun was beginning to climb. In a few hours it would be very hot.

As I walked into the town several people called a greeting. One woman seated on a basket asked how the little one was. I told her that Chariot was very well indeed.

“Poor mite! To be left like that. I would wring the neck of a mother.

Mademoiselle, who left a little one. Yes, I would, as easily as Monsieur Berray wrings the necks of his chickens. “

“No one could be better cared for than young Chariot is now, Madame.”

“I know it well. And young Madame … she is born to be a mother.

She has become one quickly, eh? Married but a few weeks . “

Clinging to her basket she tottered perilously, almost overcome by her own humour.

“Madame has a great fondness for babies,” I said. God bless her. “

I passed on. There was scarcely anyone who did not ask after the baby.

I was some time choosing the ribbons, and when I had done so I decided to have a cup of coffee and one of the delectable little cream cakes before I began to walk back.

I sat at a table under the blue umbrella and the coffee was brought to me by Madame Durand, who chatted a while about the baby who had had the good fortune to be left at the gates of the chateau.

When she had left me I sat brooding on what Yvette had told me and asking myself why she had conceived such a passionate hatred of the Comte. Nou-Nou had felt the same towards him. It could only be because of his treatment of Ursule as they both had such affection for her.

There was much I did not know of her. I had fancied her to be a peevish hypochondriac but it was not now easy to reconcile that assessment of her character with that of a woman who bad-inspired such devotion. With Nou-Nou who had lost her own child, it was understandable. Yvette was a different case. Yvette was a woman of good sense and independent spirit and since she had formed a great friendship with her employer’s daughter it must mean that there was something unusual about that daughter.

Always when I thought of the Comte and his affairs I was sooner or later in complete bewilderment.

As I sat there shielded from the sunshine by the blue umbrella, sipping my coffee and savouring my gateau, I had the strange feeling that I was being watched.

It was all the more extraordinary that I should feel this on a bright, sunny morning in the heart of the town. Turning as unobtrusively as I could, I noticed a man a few tables away from me. As I turned his head moved and he was staring straight ahead. I was sure he had been intent on me. Then it suddenly occurred to me that I had seen him before. It was when we were on our way from Paris to Grasseville. He had been at an inn in which we had stayed the night. It was something about the way his head was set on his shoulders which made him recognizable. His neck was slightly shorter than average, his shoulders faintly rounded. He wore a dark wig and one of the tall hats with a brim which hid part of his face-the type of hat which could be seen everywhere. His jacket and breeches were of the same nondescript brown as the hat. He looked, in fact, like many other people one saw in towns and villages and would never have attracted attention by his dress. It was merely the set of his head on his shoulders which made me recognize him.

I must be imagining his interest in me. Why should it be there? Unless he had heard, of course, that I came from the chateau and was the cousin of the new Madame who had recently adopted the baby found at the gates.

Yet for the moment that man had given me a twinge of uneasiness. Ever since that distressing event in the lane when I could so easily have lost my life, I had been on the alert.

I was still thinking about the man in the dark wig when I rose and walked away. It did seem odd that he had been at the inn where we bad stayed. But perhaps he lived here. I must make discreet enquiries about him.

I walked back to the ribbon shop having decided to buy some lace which I had seen there. I came out of the shop and walked past the patisserie. The man was no longer sitting at the table.

I left the town and began the short walk to the chateau. When I reached the incline I turned and looked back. The man was walking along in the direction I had come as though following me at a discreet distance.

I went to the chateau still thinking of him.

It was not difficult to lure Yvette to talk of Ursule. I found her sitting in the gardens, some sewing in her hands, and I went to join her.

“We should make the most of this,” she said.

“It won’t last long.”

“You mean this peace.”

She nodded.

“I wonder what’s happening in Paris. It must be very hot there. It’s strange how heat makes tempers rise. At night people will be out in the streets. They will be gathering at the Palais Royale. There’ll be speeches and oaths and threats.”

“The government may have a solution. I believe the Comte is attending meetings of the council there.”

Yvette shook her head.

“The hatred is too strong … tempered with envy. There is little that can be done now. If the mob were to rise I would not care to be a member of the aristocracy who fell into its hands.”

I shivered, thinking of him, arrogant, dignified, seeming omnipotent in his own castle. It would be different in the streets of Paris.

“It is the reckoning,” said Yvette.

“The Comte Fontaine Delibes has been a despotic ruler. His word was law. It is time he was overthrown.”

“Why did Ursule marry him?” I asked.

“Poor child, she had no choice.”

“I thought the Brousseaux doted on her.”

“So they did, but they wanted the best possible marriage for her.

There could not have been a grander . outside royalty. They wanted honours for her. Happiness, they thought, would follow. She would have a fine chateau as her home, a grand name, a husband who was well known for the part he played in both Paris and the country. That he was the devil incarnate did not seem of any importance. “

“Was he so bad?” I asked almost plaintively, wanting her to say something good of him.

“When they were married he was not very old … only a year or so older than she was … but old in sin. A man like that is mature at fourteen. You may look disbelieving but I can assure you he had had his adventures even then. He was eighteen at the time of his marriage.

He already had an established mistress. You know her. “

“Gabrielle LeGrand  yes.”

“And she had borne him a son. You know of this, how Etienne was brought to the chateau. Can you think of any thing more cruel than to bring a son by another woman to flaunt before your wife because she is unable to bear more children?”

“It is heartless, I agree.”

“Heartless indeed. He has no heart. He has never thought anything of greater importance than the gratification of his desires.”

“I should have thought with such parents, with NouNou and you, Ursule could have refused to marry him.”

“You know him.” She looked at me obliquely and I wondered what rumours she had heard about me and the Comte. Clearly she had heard something, for this was the reason behind her vehemence. She was warning me.

“There is about him a certain charm. It’s a sort of devilish allure.

It seems irresistible to quite a lot of women. To become involved with him is like stepping on to shifting sands. I believe they can be very beautiful, inviting you to walk on them and as soon as you take your first step you begin to sink, and unless youhave the wit and power to withdraw quickly you are lost. “

“Do you really think anyone is entirely evil?”

“I think some people glory in the power they have over others. They see themselves towering above everyone else. Their needs, their desires are all-important. They must be satisfied no matter who suffers in the process of gratification.”

“He looked after you when you left,” I reminded her.

“He gave you a home and enabled you to have Jose and live in comfort.”

“I thought it was good of him at the time. Later ]. began to think he might have a motive.”

“What motive could he have had?”

“He might have wanted me out of the way.”

“Why?”

“He might have had plans for Ursule.”

“You can’t mean…”

“My dear Mademoiselle, I am surprised that a young woman of your apparent good sense should allow herself to be so deceived. But that has happened to others. My poor little Ursule! I remember well the night they sent for her. She went down to the salon and was presented to him. The marriage contracts were already drawn up. Oh, it was to be such a grand match! The Brousseau family is an ancient one, but it had lost some of its wealth through the centuries. His family had retained theirs. Thus the family were gaining a son-in-law of equal nobility and vastly greater wealth and importance. They needed money and there was a very good marriage settlement which far exceeded the dowry they had to provide for their daughter. It was a most advantageous marriage-smiled on by both sides.”

“And Ursule?”

“He charmed her … as he has many. She came to me afterwards … she always came to me. She would go to Nou-Nou as a child who has hurt itself and wants to be kissed and made better. To me she confided her real problems. She was bemused.

“Yvette,” she said, “I never saw anyone like him. Of course I haven’t. There isn’t anyone like him.”

She walked about in a sort of dream. She was so innocent. She knew nothing of the world. Life for her then was a romantic dream. “

“And when you saw him?”

“I did not know him then. I thought he had all the charm and grace which had attracted her. I was to learn later the sort of life he had led. We thought, both Nou-Nou and I, that he was almost worthy of her.

How quickly we were disillusioned. “

“How quickly?” I persisted.

They went to one of his country homes for the honeymoon. It was Villers Brabante, a beautiful house, small by chateau standards, but charmingly set in rural surroundings . quite peaceful . the ideal place for a honeymoon . providing of course that one has the ideal husband. He was far from that. “

“How did you know?”

“One only had to look at her. We … Nou-Nou and I … had gone on to Silvaine to be ready for them when they came back. It was the first time Nou-Nou had been parted from her. She was like a hen who has lost her chick. She was clucking all the time, getting distracted. She would sit up at the watch tower with the watchman looking out for their return. Then they came … and one took at her face and we knew. She was bewildered. Poor child, she had been taught nothing of life … particularly life lived with a man like that. She was bewildered and frightened. Frightened of him … frightened of everything. In two weeks she was quite changed.”

“He was young too,” I said in his defence.

“Young in years, old in experience. He must have found her very different from the loose women he had known. I think she was probably pregnant when they came back, for soon after it was obvious. That too was a great trial for her. She was terrified of having a child. We were closer than ever then. She turned to me.

“There are things I can’t talk of to Nou-Nou,” she used to say, and she told me how she had disappointed him, how she wanted to be alone, how marriage was so different from what she had thought it would be. We used to sit together during the waiting months and she told me something of what she called her ordeal. And now another awaited her: the birth of her child.

“There has to be a son, Yvette,” she said.

“If this child is a son I shall never go through it again. If it is a girl …” Then she shivered and clung to me trembling. I started to hate him then. “

“After all,” I said, ‘it is what one expects of marriage. Perhaps the trouble was that Ursule had not been prepared. “

“You find excuses for him. Poor Ursule! How ill she was before Marguerite’s birth. Nou-Nou was in terror that she would never come through. But we had the best doctors, the best midwife and at last the day came when the child was born. I shall never forget her face when she was told it was a girl. She was very, very ill and the doctors said that if she had another child she would run such risks that could well cost her her life.

“She must make no more attempts to have children,” said the doctors. You would have thought she was a Queen being crowned. Nou-Nou and I cried together in our relief. It was as though our darling was restored to us. “

“The Comte must have been a very disappointed man.”

“He was mad with rage. He used to go out riding or driving and they said he was like a madman. He was in a dilemma. They said he cursed the day he had married. He had an invalid wife … one daughter and no son. You must have heard that he killed a boy.”

“Yes. Leon’s twin brother.”

“It was nothing short of murder.”

“It was not done purposely. It was an accident. And he compensated the family. I have heard he was very good to them. We know what he did for Leon.”

“It cost him nothing. That is the sort of man he is … ruthless. Then he brought Etienne to the chateau … his bastard son … to show her that if she could not give him sons others could.

It was a cruel thing to do. “

“Was she hurt?”

“She said to me once: ” I don’t care, Yvette, as long as I do not have to submit. He may have twenty bastard sons here as long as I don’t have to try to give him a legal one. ” You see how ruthless he is. He cares so little for his wife’s feelings that he brings Etienne here.

Etienne’s hopes are raised; so are those of his mother. They are hoping that Etienne will be legitimized and made the Comte’s heir, but he keeps them on tenterhooks. It amuses him. “

“One can only feel sorry for everyone concerned,” I said. She looked at me sharply and shook her head as though in despair.

I went on: “At least Ursule had her daughter.”

“She never cared greatly for Marguerite. I think the child reminded her of her birth and all she had suffered.”

“It was not Marguerite’s fault,” I said sharply.

“I should have thought it would have been natural for a mother to care for her child.”

“Marguerite soon showed herself well able to look after herself.

Nou-Nou was not very interested in the child either. Her care fell mostly to me. I was very drawn to her. She was such a gay little thing, vivacious, very wayward, impulsive . well, she has not changed much. “

“I am surprised that Ursule was indifferent to her.”

“She was always listless at this time. Soon after Marguerite’s birth she suffered another shock. Her mother died. She had been very fond of her mother and her death was a great blow to her.”

“So it was unexpected.”

Yvette was silent for a while, then she said: Her mother took her own life. ” I was startled.

“Yes,” went on Yvette.

“It was a great shock to us all. We did not know that she was ill. She had been suffering some internal pains but she had mentioned this for some time. But when the pain increased she could keep it secret no longer. When she heard that nothing could be done for it, she took an overdose of a sleeping draught.”

“Like … Ursule,” I murmured.

“No,” said Yvette firmly.

“Not like Ursule. Ursule would never have taken her own life. I know she wouldn’t. We talked of this again and again. Ursule was deeply religious. She believed in an after-life. She used to say to me: ” No matter what one suffers here, Yvette, it is all fleeting. That’s what I tell myself. We must endure it and the greater the suffering, the more rejoicing there will be when one comes to rest. My mother suffered pain and would have suffered more and she could not endure it. Oh, if only she had waited. ” Then she turned to me and gripped my hands and said:

“If only I had known. If only I could have talked to her …”

“And yet when something similar happened to her …”

“She was not in great pain then. I know.”

“You were not at the chateau,” I reminded her.

“When I left the chateau, we wrote to each other. We wrote every week.

She wanted to know every detail of my life and she gave me every detail of hers. She opened her heart to me. She kept nothing back.

When I left we had made this pact. Later she wrote that our letters were more revealing than our daily contacts. She said that we had become even closer through the pen than we had been before because it was so much easier to say exactly what one meant on paper. That was why I learned so much about her . when I was away from her, more than when I was with her. That is why I know that she would never have killed herself. “

“How then did she die?”

“Someone murdered her,” she said.

I went to my room and stayed there. I did not want to talk of Ursule’s death. I would not believe what Yvette was suggesting. That Yvette believed the Comte had killed his wife was without question.

And I knew that the intention of these conversations was to warn me.

In her mind she had put me with those women who had become fascinated by him and were picked up and made much of for a while and before they were cast off . minor affaires in a long stream of such, some of greater importance than others, like the one which had brought him Etienne.

In spite of everything I would not believe this of him. That he had had adventures I knew-indeed, when had he ever made a secret of that? but that our relationship was different, I was certain.

At times I believed I would be ready to forget everything that had gone before. Everything? Murder? But I would not believe he had killed his wife. He had killed Leon’s brother but that was different a reckless, thoughtless act which had ended in tragedy but which was quite different from premeditated murder.

While I was brooding there the door opened and Margot looked in. She was not quite her exuberant self.

“Is something wrong?” I cried, raising myself on my arm, for I was lying on my bed.

She sat on the chair near the mirror and looked at me frowning.

She nodded slowly.

“What’s happened? Chariot…?”

“Is as beautiful and bonny as ever.”

Then what? “

“It’s a note I’ve had. Armand said a woman had given it to him and it was to be delivered either to me or to you.”

“A note? Armand?”

“Please don’t repeat everything I say, Minelle. It maddens me.”

“Why should a woman give a note to Armand?”

“Because she must have known he comes from the chateau.”

Armand was a groom we had brought with us from the Chateau Silvaine.

Etienne had said he was a good man and had recommended us to bring him with us.

Where’s the note? ” I asked.

She held out a piece of paper. I took it and read:

It would be well for one of you to come to the Cafe des Fleurs at ten o’clock on Tuesday morning. You will be sorry if you fail. I know about the baby.

I stared at her.

“Who on earth could it be …?”

She shook her head impatiently.

“Oh, Minelle, what are we going to do?

It’s worse than Bessell and Mimi. “

“It looks to me,” I said, ‘as if it’s the same thing as Bessell and Mimi. “

“But here … in Grasseville. I’m frightened, Minelle.”

“It’s someone trying to blackmail you,” I said.

“How can you be sure?”

“The tone of the note.

“You'll be sorry …” It’s someone who has found out and wants to make something out of it. “

Whatever shall I do? “

Could you tell Robert the truth? “

“Are you mad? I never could … at least not yet. He thinks I’m so perfect, Minelle.”

“He’ll have to discover his error sooner or later. Why not sooner?”

“You can be so hard.”

“Then why not try someone else?”

“Someone else! You’re in this. It says ” one of you”. That means you as well.”

I think you should go. “

“I can’t Robert is taking me for a ride.”

Wen, cancel it. “

“What excuses could I make? I have to go. It would look so odd. He’d only want to know why…”

I hesitated. I flattered myself that this was a delicate situation which I could handle better than Margot. After all, I was involved. I had been with her during that fateful period. My mind ranged over who it could possibly be. Madame Gremond . someone from the house . perhaps someone to whom Bessell and Mimi had talked, someone who had seen them favoured and hoped to reap similar benefits.

When at length I said I would go she threw her arms round me. She knew she could rely on me to settle everything, she declared.

I said: “Listen. This is not settled. It has only just begun. I think you will have to consider telling Robert. That would scatter the blackmailers. You can never know when Bessell IS and Mimi are coming back with more demands.” E “Oh, Minelle, I’m so frightened. But you will go and you’ll ” ‘” know how to deal with them.”

“There is only one wise way in dealing with blackmailers and that is to tell them to do their worst.” ,.

She shook her head, real fear in her eyes. I was very fond “J of her and it was gratifying to see how happy she and Robert were together and I often laughed to think how ingeniously she had brought her baby into the family. But of course it was an uneasy situation and while she kept such a secret, which was inevitably shared by others, dangers could arise.

I was rather touched, too, by the manner in which she could shift everything on to my shoulders. I was sure she would be blithely happy during her morning with Robert. She could always live in the moment, which was perhaps a blessing in some ways, but it did sometimes leave the future to be cared for.

At five minutes to ten I arrived at the Cafe des Fleurs. I ordered my coffee and the usual gateau although I had no appetite for it, but I thought Madame would be surprised if I did not and I wanted this to be an ordinary morning. I received a little shock to see the man with the dark wig and the high shoulders walk over. He is the blackmailer, I thought. He has been watching me! But he took a seat some distance off and although he glanced my way he did not appear to be really looking at me.

A woman was coming towards me. Emilie! Madame Gremond’s maid, the quiet sister of the garrulous Jeanne. I might have known. I had always mistrusted those thin lips, those pale eyes which had never really looked straight at me.

“Mademoiselle is surprised?” she asked with an unpleasant smirk.

“Not entirely,” I replied.

“What is it you have to say? Please say it quickly and go.”

“Ill go in my own time. Mademoiselle. It is not you who calls the tune now, remember. It won’t take long to settle. I know now that the mother of the child was not Madame Ie Brun, but Madame de Grasseville, at that time Mademoiselle Fontaine Delibes, daughter of the great Comte.”

“You have worked very hard,” I said caustically.

“It’s a pity it was not in a more worthy cause.”

“It wasn’t difficult,” she said, with an air of modesty.

“We all knew that once Madame Gremond had been a great friend of the Comte Fontaine Delibes. She was very proud of it. He came to see her. Then all this happened. We thought Madame Ie Brun was one of his mistresses and the baby was his. Then Gaston took letters to Madame LeGrand  … because she and Madame Gremond had kept in touch with t each other. Ladies of misfortune … not altogether cast off.”

She sniggered and how I hated her whey-coloured face el “Gaston saw you and hung about and caught a glimpse of Madame de Grasseville. He heard how she was going to get married and then the cat was out of the bag, so to speak. Gaston and Jeanne want a little something to set up home with and I’d like a bit for my old age. We’d like a thousand francs each to start with, and if we don’t get it I shall go to the chateau and tell Madame’s husband the whole story.”

“You are an unscrupulous and wicked woman.”

“Who in my position would not be unscrupulous for three thousand francs?”

“Many, I hope. Do you make a practice of this sort of thing?”

“Such good fortune does not often come my way. Mademoiselle. Madame de Grasseville as she now is … talked too much. She gave clues. My sister listened and we talked it over with Gaston. If she had been the Comte’s mistress we wouldn’t have dared. But you see this is different. We don’t have to deal with the Comte, do we … but with Monsieur de Grasseville.”

“I shall see that Madame Gremond knows the sort of people she employs.”

“When we have our fortune what shall we care? Madame Gremond has to be careful of herself. Times are not good for such as she is … and for such as you. You will have to be careful how you treat the people now.

Come. Bring the francs tomorrow and all will be well’ “Until the next demand?”

“Perhaps there will be no more demands.”

The perpetual promise of the blackmailer, and made to be broken, of course. “

Emilie shrugged her shoulders.

“Madame is the one who will have to decide. She is the one who will have to face her husband. I wonder how he will feel about supporting his wife’s little bastard baby.”

I could have slapped her face and might have done so had we not been sitting at a cafe table. I fancied the man with the wig was watching and trying to hear what was said.

I stood up.

“I will take your message,” I said.

“Please do not forget that blackmail is a criminal act.”

She grinned at me.

“We all have to be careful, do we not? And we should all try to help each other.”

I walked away. I could feel her eyes following me-and those of the man in the dark wig too.

I walked briskly to the chateau. When I reached the incline I looked back. The man was some little way behind, walking in the direction of the chateau. But my mind was full of Emilie and I had little thought to spare for him.

The three of us discussed Emilie’s threat myself, Yvette and Margot.

Yvette and I were of one opinion. There was only one way of dealing with the matter. Margot must confess to her husband. If she did not and complied with Emilie’s demand it would be the beginning of many.

“You will never have any peace,” I pointed out.

“You will never know from one moment to the next when she is going to appear with further demands.”

“I can’t tell Robert,” wailed Margot.

“It would spoil everything.”

“What else can you do?” I demanded.

“Leave it. Take no notice.”

“Then she might tell. If he has to know, it is better for it to come from you.”

I could give her the money. “

“That would be the utmost folly,” said Yvette.

Margot wept and stormed and declared she would never tell Robert, and demanded to know why people would not leave her alone. Hadn’t she suffered enough?

“Look, Margot,” I said, ‘if you tell him, perhaps he’ll understand and that will be an end of the matter. Just imagine how happy you would be without the burden of this secret. Think of all the people who might decide to blackmail you. You haven’t heard the end of Bessell and Mimi yet. “

“And I trusted them,” she said.

“It shows you can trust no one,” Yvette pointed out.

“Minelle is right. Robert is good and kind and he loves you.”

“Not enough for that perhaps,” said Margot. “

“I believe he does,” I said,

“How can you know that?”

“I know that you are very happy together and he won’t want that changed.”

“But it will be changed. He thinks me so wonderful… so unlike other girls…”

She stormed and raged and shut herself in her room and then came to me and demanded that I talk to her. We discussed it all again, going over and over the same points. I stuck to my opinion; she wavered from one to the other.

I reminded her that Bnrilie would be at the patisserie the next day.

“Let her be!” she cried.

At supper she was quite gay with Robert as though there was nothing at all on her mind. Though perhaps, I thought afterwards, she was a little too gay.

I spent a sleepless night wondering what would happen the next day, but in the early morning Margot came to me. She was radiant.

She had done it. She had taken our advice. She had told Robert that Chariot was her son.

She threw herself into my arms.

“And he still loves me,” she said.

I was so relieved I could not speak.

“He was a little taken aback,” she explained.

“But when he had got used to it he said that he was glad I had brought Chariot here. Then he said I would be a good mother to our children when they came. You see, Minelle, I have solved our problem.”

“Ours?” I said.

“You are in this as much as I am.”

“My part can hardly be compared with yours. But never mind that now. I am so pleased and happy. How lucky you are to have Robert. I hope you appreciate that.” ‘

I could not but relish my meeting with Emilie. She was waiting at the patisserie and she brightened with anticipation when she saw me.

“Have you brought the money?” she demanded.

“Hand it to me now.”

“You go too fast,” I retorted. I have not brought the money. You may go straight to the chateau and ask for Monsieur de Grasseville. You can tell him what you know of his wife. You will get short shrift from him for information that he already knows. “

“I don’t believe it.”

“Nevertheless it is true.”

“It’s not the story I heard.”

“Do you think you are in a position to hear what takes place between a wife and her husband?’ She looked deflated.

“You’re lying, of course.”

“It is not a habit of mine to do so.”

“Maybe not, but I reckon you sidestep now and then. You managed very well when you were with us. Madame Ie Brun … a husband who was dead drowned, wasn’t it. A fine story. You could lie then and you’re lying now.”

“There is one way of proving it. Go to the chateau and ask for Monsieur de Grasseville. I am sure he would grant you an interview.

But you might find someone waiting for you whom you do not expect. Now get out of here while you can safely do so. “

“Do not imagine, Mademoiselle, that I shall let this pass. I shall discover the truth and when I have done so I shall know how to act.”

“And if you are not careful, so shall we. There is nothing more despicable than a blackmailer. Goodbye. Take warning and never show your face here again.”

Emilie, looking sickly pale, rose and giving me a venomous look said:

“One day it will be different. One day we shall iave our revenge on such as you. It has been too easy for ou. Those days are over. The time is coming when there’ll ie change. Ill see the likes of you hanging on the lanterns ‘before long.”

She walked away, her head high. Her words had sent a shiver of dismay down my spine. My triumph in victory was gone. So absorbed was I that I forgot to see if the man in the dark wig had followed me.

III

The atmosphere of the household had changed as I suppose was inevitable after Margot’s revelation. She tried to be as gay as before, but she was apprehensive and Robert was subdued.

Clearly this had been a shock for him.

Margot was excessively affectionate towards him and he appreciated that, but I caught him looking at Chariot with a kind of wondering amazement, as though he could not really believe the story of his birth.

“He’ll get used to it,” said Yvette, and with so many unscrupulous people aware of it, he would certainly have discovered in time. It is best that he knows through her. He is a good young man and she is fortunate to have such a husband. Different from her mother. “

That brought us back to Ursule and as that was a subject which I found irresistible, I encouraged more disclosures.

“She stayed in her room a great deal, I know,” I said.

“What did people think? I suppose there was a good deal of entertaining at the chateau ” There was, and at first she would put in an appearance. They made a show of being a loving couple at first, but after a while she began to plead illness. Of course she did feel weak after Marguerite’s birth and she never really regained her health and strength. “

“Invalidism became a sort of cult, didn’t it?”

“It did. She was childish sometimes. When there was an engagement which she wanted to avoid she would say: ” Oh, I have such a headache.”

And Nou-Nou would reply: “I’ll get you some spirit of bahn or my marjoram juice.” And Ursule would shake her head and say: “No, Nouny. I don’t want . any of your herb drinks, I really want to be with you and j then my headache will go. ” Of course Nou-Nou loved that. She liked to think that her little girl could be made well simply by being with her. Then I began to realize that Ursule’s‘ illnesses were mostly of the mind. They were excuses. We both hated him so much that we always rushed to her rescue’ and we would tell him that she was not well enough to be with him.”

“It’s a dangerous practice,” I said, ‘to feign illness. It’s like rough justice. You tend to be ill in order to escape something and before you realize it you are ill. “

“It seems so. As the years passed she became an invalid although there was rarely anything specifically wrong wif her. He despised that in her. He thought her a malinge which she was in a way. Yet it seemed to me that her illnesses were real, only they weren’t what she said they were. So she became very much the invalid wife. She did not seem to want to go far from her room. She took shelter from him on her couch and chaise-longue.”

“Can you blame him for looking elsewhere?”

“I do blame him,” said Yvette fiercely.

“I tell you I know more than you do.”

We were silent for a while and then she said: “One of these days .. ” I waited but she added: “Never mind.”

“But what were you going to say? What is going to happen one of these days?”

“I have her letters,” she said.

“I’ve kept every one of them. She wrote to me regularly once a week all those letters over six years. Writing to me was an outlet for her feelings. She just set her thoughts down on paper. It was like talking to her. Sometimes I would have several letters at a time. She used to number them so that I read them in the right order. I knew exactly what she was thinking … what she was doing. It was like being there … only closer really, because she was more frank on paper than she ever was when we were together.” Her next words startled me.

“I knew of you through her letters. She told me you had come to the chateau … and the effect you had on him … and he on you…”

“I did not know that she was very much aware of me.”

“Although she stayed in her rooms she knew what was happening in the chateau.”

“And what did she say of me?”

Yvette was silent.

A messenger from the Comte arrived at Grasseville. He had letters for the Comte de Grasseville, for Margot and there was one for me.

I took it to my bedroom that I might be alone to read it. My dearest [he had written], It gives me great satisfaction to know that you are at Grasseville. I want you to remain there until I come for you or send for you. I do not know when that will be but you may be sure I shall lose no time and it will be as soon as it is possible. The situation in Paris is deteriorating fast. There have been riots and the shopkeepers are barricading their shops. People are marching through the streets wearing the tricolour.

The heroes at the moment are Necker and the Due d’Orleans . but that could change tomorrow. There is a feeling that anything can change at any moment. Sometimes I would like to see a confrontation between the King and the nobility on one side and Danton, Desmoulins and the rest on the other. What Orleans is doing with them I cant imagine. I think he may imagine they will set him up as King. My opinion is that if they dispense with the Monarchy there will be no crown. But a crowned king is a king until he dies.

My dear Minelle, how I wish you were here that I might talk of these matters with you. There is one hope that sustains me in this dismal world: One day you and I will be together.

Charles Auguste.

I read his letter over and over again. I glowed with happiness. When I held in my band a letter he had written to me nothing I heard of him could alter my feelings for him.

I had retired early that night. Supper had been a somewhat silent meal. The Grassevilles mere and pere were clearly disturbed by the news from Paris. There were times when even Grasseville had to be invaded by the unpleasant truth. Robert, of course, was less exuberant. One could not expect him to be overjoyed by the news that his wife had had a child by someone else before her marriage to him;

and he was taking a little time to assimilate the devastating revelation. Margot could always be affected by her father. I wondered what he had said to her.

As I sat at my dressing-table brushing my hair there was a knock on my door and when I called “Come in’, Yvette entered. She carried a packet of papers in her hand.

“I hope I don’t disturb you,” she said.

“No, of course not.”

“I wanted to show you something. I have been wrestling with myself for some time and I really think I should.”

I knew what she was holding in her hand before she told me.

Her letters,” I said.

The last I received,” she answered.

“She must have written them a few days before she died. In fact they were actually delivered to me on that day. The messenger came with them and neither of us knew what had happened.”

“Why do you want to show them to me?”

“Because I think there will be something in them that you ought to ‘know.”

I lowered my eyes. She would have known that letters from the Comte had arrived this day and that there was one among them for me, which was significant. If you are sure you wish me to read them . ” I began.

“I think it is important that you do.” She laid the packet on the dressing-table.

“Goodnight,” she added, and left me.

I lighted the three candles of the candelabrum by my bedside and got into bed. Propped up by pillows, I untied the letters. They were numbered one, two and three.

The handwriting was firm and I felt reluctant to unfold them and read them, for they had not been intended for me and I felt I was prying on something private. Curious as I was to learn about Ursule, I was very reluctant to read her letters, and if I were honest I would admit that that reluctance was caused by the fear of what I should find rather than a sense of correct behaviour. I was afraid of what I should read about the Comte. I opened the first of the letters. My dear Yvette, How good it is to write to you. Our letters are, as you know, a source of great comfort to me. Writing them is like talking to you and you know how I always liked to tell you everything.

Life goes on as before. Nouny with my petit dejeuner, drawing the curtains, making sure the sun doesn’t bother me and that I aim wrapped up against draughts. Not that she would allow any in my room.

Marguerite is back now after her long sojourn abroad. There is someone with her called a cousin . a fiction if ever there was. It is a new gambit with him. He has never called them cousins before. This one is English. Marguerite knew her during her stay in England. She has been presented to me. A tall, good-looking girl with rather beautiful hair-masses of it-and blue eyes of a deep and unusual shade. She seems to have a good conceit of herself, an air of independence and is not in the least frivolous. In fact I was surprised, for she is not his type at all. I watch her in the gardens with Marguerite. One always learns so much about people when they are unaware of one’s observation. There is a change in him. It has suddenly struck me that this time he may be serious.

I had an uncomfortable pain yesterday afternoon. Nouny made a great fuss about it and insisted on my taking her mistletoe cure. She went on and on about her herbs and plants as you know she is fond of doing.

I have already heard about six hundred times that the Druids called it that plant that cures all ills and it is said to produce immortality.

Anyway, Nouny’s draught soothed me and I slept most of the afternoon, I haven’t seen him for a week. I dare say he will come in to pay his duty call. It amazes me that he bothers to.

I dread his visits and I fancy it would be no deprivation to him to dispense with them.

But what I wanted to tell you was that this time he was different.

Usually he sits in the chair and his eyes keep going to the clock. I know he is asking himself how much longer he need stay. He can never hide his contempt. It is there in his eyes, in his voice and the very way he sits in the chair. He is impatient.

Nouny told him about my pain. You know how she is with him . blaming him for everything. If I cut my finger she would find some way of saying it was his faultj And then I fancied I saw something in his eyes . speculation It is something to do with this girl. She is the most unlikely one you could imagine. She was a schoolteacher;

I remember hearing something of her when I was in England not long ago. What a dreadful time that was i But he insisted on my going because we had to see Marguerite. I felt ill all the time, as you know, and I hated to be separated from Nouny. She was frantic until I came back and then started dosing me with all sorts of concoctions to purge me of the contamination of foreign parts!

But the girl . He must have seen her then, for Marguerite was at a school run by the girl’s mother. She speaks

French very well indeed.

I saw him in the gardens with her once. I couldn’t see them very clearly, of course, but there was something in his gestures, his attitude . I don’t think she is his mistress . yet. I laughed so much when I saw them in the gardens that Nouny thought I was going into hysterics. I was thinking about Gabrielle LeGrand

Ours is a very strange household. Well, what can one expect with such a man at the head of it ! It is always good writing to you, Yvette. I should be desolate without our letters. I feel so tired sometimes. Like someone outside life looking in on it. I rather like it that way.

I look forward to hearing your news, dear Yvette, and you must not think I do not love all the details. The fact that Jose burned the potage and birds have ruined the plum crop interests me greatly. I like to know that there is another side of life. Here I feel we live high drama all the time. That makes the quiet life seem very sweet.

Perhaps it is what I am trying to escape to. So write, dear Yvette.

Goodnight.

Ursule. I finished the first letter and folded it. My heart was beating uncomfortably fast. I could see that these letters were going to be revealing. Already I had seen myself through other eyes and I knew that I had been observed when I had not known it.

Yvette was telling me that I should go away. I should not be caught up in this drama into which, if I continued my association with the Comte, I should be drawn. I opened the second letter. My dear Yvette, I’ve had a further dose of the mistletoe cure. Nouny is going round grunting like a grampus with a kind of mingling disapproval and satisfaction-disapproval for the pain, satisfaction for the cure.

She has spoken to him about it and said she wants the doctors. It is fussing of her. I know what’s in her mind. She is thinking of my mother. I never really heard the truth of that. They hushed it up and kept a lot from me. She took her own life, I know, because she was afraid of the future. It was that painful illness which was going to be worse and kill her eventually. No matter what they try to keep from one, there is always gossip to be heard. I have often pretended to be asleep when I was lying there listening to the servants. I have a gift, as you know, for seeming to take in nothing when I am taking in everything. I think they were afraid for me to know too much in case I-who am also ill-might do the same. If Nouny knows me at all she knows that I would never take my own life. I feel very strongly about this. I have always felt it. Remember how we used to talk about it? I still believe that one must work out one’s re1e on earth, however uncomfortable. It’s part of a pattern. Nouny gets terribly worked up about what’s going to happen to me. She’s always saying: “What’s going to happen to you when I’m gone?”

“Gone where, Nouny?” I ask teasingly. To Heaven,” she says.

I laugh at her and she gets so upset I have to cos set her and tell her how important she is to me just to placate her. I agreed to see the doctors and she is talking to him about it. I am sure he says: “More malingering.” But what do I care?

I am certain that his feelings for the schoolmistress girl are different from usual. This one appears not to be just a woman but the woman. For how long, is another matter, but he is certainly obsessed at the time. Nouny is very angry. She hates the girl. Marguerite is very fond of her, though. They are together a good deal. They keep up the myth of cousin. It is a good way of keeping her at the chateau with out too much comment. Of course the girl’s presence here is causing a lot of heart burning in some quarters, as you can guess.

When I think of Gabrielle LeGrand  brooding in that’) house of hers like a great spider waiting to catch her fly, I laugh so much that Nouny gets out the Lady’s Bedstraw. That’s the cure for hysteria in case you’ve forgotten. I have learned quite a lot about these things.

Living with Nouny how could one help it? I wonder what Gabrielle thinks of our young lady. Well, while I’m here, what does it matter?

Gabrielle comforts herself that I am the invalid and must eventually succumb to my ailments. And she has the stalwart

Etienne to offer. A son . the hope of the house. Oh, Yvette, what an insult to our sex! We are the unwanted ones. If Marguerite had been a boy, who knows how different our lives might have been. How many women in the world have been cast out for the only reason that they cannot bear a son. What a commentary on our society. But I was fortunate.

Many have to endure years and years of childbearing . daughter, daughter all the time . and often miscarriages. I escaped that. I never want those early experiences to happen again. I was not meant for that. I knew it at once and so did he . that was why he hated me. You know the sort of man he is. Women are as necessary to him as air. He cannot live without them. It was so from the beginning of his manhood. It will be so to the end. That is why the affair of the schoolmistress is so strange. Of course that could not last. that obsession for one. But it is strange that it should exist at all.

Nouny won’t admit it, but she appears to be quite a pleasant creature.

She has a natural dignity and doesn’t give herself airs. She has been strictly brought up and is holding him off, I suspect, because her upbringing would not allow her to indulge in a light love affair with him. Well, we shall see.

The doctors came today. They prodded me and asked endless questions.

Then there was a long conference with Nouny. He was not there, which tfaey must have thought strange. He thought the whole thing was a farce. So it was. It was just to placate Nouny. She went about looking grave and making me rest and asking if I felt any pain. I pretended a bit because that was what she wanted and it gave her a chance to get out the mistletoe cure. Goodnight. I am going to sleep now. Ursule.

There was one more letter. I was beginning to see Ursule as quite a different person from the one I had imagined. She was not the peevish invalid. What she had hated was her marriage. I believed she would have hated marriage with anyone. She was without passion, without maternal instincts. But she could have affection. She clearly had that for NouNou and Yvette. She did not want to take part in life. She wanted to spend her days in her room, observing the conduct of those about her. Instead of being aloof, though, she was enormously interested in what was going on. She was like the audience at a play;

she wanted to see how they acted while she herself took no part. I picked up the last letter. My dear Yvette, I have suddenly become aware of the drama all about me. It is as though they have all sprung to life. We are on the verge of a revolution, I believe. I have been reading the papers. I know things are very much more grave than we have allowed ourselves to believe. I wonder what will happen to us. I chatted to one of the maids who came in to clean. Nouny was having a nap so she could talk freely to me, which she wouldn’t dare do if Nouny was around. Anything unpleasant, as you know, has to be kept from me. I learned from the girl that there have been riots in various places all over the country and that the people are going to rise and demand their rights. Spoken, I must say, with a certain satisfaction. She looked at my negligee as she talked as though at the given moment she would have that as her share.

It is very distressing and I started to wonder what would happen to me if there was this turn-about. I cannot imagine anyone’s trying to take his chateau from him, can you? He would subdue them with a look.

All this going on and our not being aware of it, makes me see that there are things happening under my very nose, as it were, which I have not been looking at squarely.

He is still longing for the school lady and she remains aloof. Perhaps she knows it is the way to increase his ardour. But I am not sure. I think she is rather wise. From the little I have gathered from Marguerite she is the fount of all wisdom. It is always Minelle this . and Minelle that. Minelle is our school lady. I think that is Marguerite’s version of her name. It sounds French but the lady is as English as it is possible for anyone to be. Our tongue sounds a little incongruous on her lips though she speaks it perfectly.

He wants me out of the way. Of course he has been wanting that for a long time but never as fervently as now. When I say out of the way, I do not mean just out of sight, but off the earth. I suddenly realized this with a shock, because as you know he is a man who, when he wants, wants fiercely and does not rest until he has it.

I, who have lived thus all these years-which is scarcely living at all suddenly find myself in the midst of intrigue. You see, Yvette, there are several people who wish me out of the way . not mildly but desperately. First there is my dear husband. How he would love to be rid of me! Then he could go to his schoolmistress and offer her honourable marriage. I believe that is what he wants to do.

And what of Gabrielle . all those years patiently waiting for me to die . and yet at the same time wanting me to live. If I died he might marry again, but would it be Gabrielle? Gabrielle has proved that she can bear a son. There is that six foot of Fontaine Delibes manhood to prove it. Etienne! And who could doubt that the Comte is his father? Poor Gabrielle, what a quandary for her! The Comte could marry her if he were free, but would he? I know she has been a faithful mistress to him for many years, but it is a tradition that when a man is free to marry it is not his ageing mistress whom he chooses as his wife. He turns and finds a young girl. So there sits our patient Gabrielle. What does she feel to see this young schoolmistress enslaving her lover? And Etienne, what of him?

Then there is Leon. I discovered something about Leon. It was on the night of the ball. I know so much more than people think. I have always bad food, clothes and even money sent to Leon’s family. I felt a certain responsibility, as it was because I did not produce a son that my husband drove so wildly that there was this terrible accident.

I send Edouard, one of my grooms, to Leon’s family once a month. He brings me back news of them. He talks to them and comes back and tells me little things about them. Then on the night of the ball . this happened. And Leon is aware of it. I am too tired to tell you about it now. It’s a long story . so next time. But Leon is afraid of what I might do.

There is so much drama in this household, Yvette. I often wonder where it will all end. But it does make life exciting and it could easily be so dull for me. I can’t wait to know what will happen next.

I have always been interested in people. It’s odd that I should wish to be merely a looker-on. But it’s true. I don’t want to go down there in the arena. Marriage and all it entails is particularly distasteful to me. I suppose there are people like that.

They turn up occasionally.

There are moments of enjoyment in my life . writing to you . discovering what people are doing. And now suddenly it has all become tremendously exciting.

I can’t wait for what will happen next. I shall write to you tomorrow more fully. I’m just a little tired now and I like to be fresh for my letters.

Goodnight.

Ursule.

The letter fell from my hand. I looked at the date. It was written the night before she died.

I now knew why Yvette had decided to show me the letters. She was telling me that Ursule could not possibly have taken her own life.

There was little sleep for me that night. I lay awake brooding on what I had read.

I took the first opportunity of returning the letters to Yvette.

“You’ve read them?” she asked. I nodded.

“Did you realize when the last one was written?”

Yes, the night before she died. She must have written it just before she took the fatal dose. “

“Do you think that is the letter of a woman contemplating suicide?”

“No. “

There is only one solution. He killed her. ” I was silent and she went on: ” He wanted her out of the way. She knew that. She actually said it in the letter. “

I don’t believe it. At the autopsy. “

“My dear Minelle, you do not know the Comte’s power. It has always been so. The doctors would say what he commanded them to.”

“Surely they would have more integrity.”

“You do not know how things can happen. Someone offends a person in a high place. A little later he receives a lettre de cachet. Nothing more is heard of him.”

I was silent and she came to me and laid a hand on my arm.

“If you are wise,” she said, ‘you will return to England with’ out delay and forget you ever met baa. “

“Where should I go?”

“Where would you go now if there were trouble?”

I suppose I should stay with Margot . here . with you all. “

“And if the Comte comes for you, what then?” I was silent and she went on: “He might offer to marry you. Would you marry a murderer?”

There is no proof. “

“Didn’t you find that in the letter? You read what she had written before she died. The doctors had been. He had sent for them that they might diagnose some imaginary disease.”

“It was Nou-Nou who sent for them.”

“Nou-Nou constantly wanted to send for them. It would only have been a matter of waiting until she asked for them again,” “If he wanted to be rid of her, why did he not do so long ago?”

“Because you were not there.”

“But he always wanted to remarry. He wanted a son.”

“There was no particular woman before. He was ready to leave it to fate and if necessary settle for Etienne.”

“You are conjecturing too much.”

“Oh, isn’t it clear to you, or are you wilfully blind?”

I was wilfully blind, I knew. The evidence was clear enough in the letters. She had declared her wish to live only the night before she died.

I had never been so wretched in the whole of my life.

One hot day followed another. When I awoke each morning my first thoughts were of the Comte. I could not shut from my mind the picture of his going into her bedroom and opening Nou-Nou’s cupboard. All the remedies were neatly labelled in Nou-Nou’s handwriting. He would tip the fluid into the glass . the double . or treble dose . that meant death.

What could I do? I asked him for the truth, he would not give it. He was adept at lying. Or would he tell me the truth and try to make me believe that whatever he had done would make no difference to us? Was he right? Could I stand the test? Wasn’t it cowardly to run away from it?

But that was what I should do. In the first heat of my passion for him I might forget but later how should I feel, living with a murderer?

In my dreams my mother returned to me. She pleaded with me. Then in the dream she changed to Yvette and said:

“Go home. Don’t delay any more.”

A strange thing happened a week after I had read those letters. I could almost believe that my mother had arranged it with divine assistance.

I was in my room turning over the question of what I should do when Margot rushed in.

“A visitor,” she cried.

“Come down at once. You will be surprised.”

I immediately thought of the Comte.

“Who?” I demanded.

“I’m not telling. Come and see. It’s a surprise.”

I doubted whether the arrival of the Comte would be such a great surprise and surely he would not have aroused this reaction in Margot.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

“You look all right,” Margot assured me.

“And there is no time to change or anything like that. Do come now.”

So I went with her and to my utter astonishment discovered that the visitor was Joel Derringham. I looked at him in amazement and he took my hands in his, “You look surprised to see me,” he said.

I am completely taken aback. “

“I had come to the south of France from Italy and I heard from home that you had gone to France. I thought it would be a good idea to call on the Comte and his family. I went to the chateau and was informed of Marguerite’s marriage and that you had accompanied her to Grasseville.

So here I am. “

“You will stay a while, I trust,” said Margot, very much the chat elaine

“It is delightful of you to offer hospitality and I should be very pleased to take advantage of it.”

“Minelle,” said Margot imperiously, ‘you will entertain our guest while I make arrangements for his room to be prepared. What of refreshment, Joel? We dine at six. “

“I have had something at an inn and shall be quite happy until six, thank you.”

We sat down and when we were alone he looked at me steadily.

“It is good to see you again,” he said.

“Much has happened since our last meeting,” I replied rather tritely.

“A great deal. I was sorry to leave so abruptly.”

“Oh, I understand.”

“How did you come to leave England?”

My mother died, as you know, and the school did not prosper without her. It seemed a solution to come with Margot when the opportunity was offered to me. “

He nodded.

“You have changed little, Minella. Your mother’s death was a great blow to you, I know.”

The greatest I ever suffered. “

He winced slightly and I realized I had told him that his abrupt departure had not affected me so much.

“She was a wonderful woman,” he said.

“My father was always talking of her.”

But not so wonderful, I thought, that her daughter could be considered worthy of his son. Not that I would have taken him, I assured myself haughtily. But how pleased my dear mother would have been had that union been possible.

“Have you enjoyed your tour?” I asked.

“It is not yet over.”

“I thought you were on your way home.”

“By no means. It was simply that I heard you were in France and I very much wanted to see you. This country is a boiling cauldron of discontent.”

“I know. One can’t live here without being aware of it.”

“It is not the safest place in the world for a young Englishwoman.”

“That’s true enough.”

“You should not stay here. I cannot understand why the Comte has not arranged for your return to England.”

I said nothing.

Margot returned.

“I will show you your room. I am sure you will wish to wash and perhaps change. You have, brought a manservant with you, I see. He is being looked after. I am so pleased you have come. I am sure Minelle is too.”

She looked at me a little mischievously and then she took him to his room.

I went to my own. I was really quite shaken by my enounter with him.

It brought back memories of home. I could see my mother clearly, her eyes dancing with excitement as she showed me the handsome riding kit spread out on the bed.

It was not long before Margot appeared. She sat in her favourite chair facing the mirror so that she could admire her reflection as she talked.

“He is more handsome than ever,” she cried.

“Did you not think so?”

“He was always considered to be good-looking.”

He is a very pleasant young man. I have a special interest in him because at one time they had decided that I might marry him. “

“You are glad you didn’t?”

“I wonder what he would have said about Chariot? I don’t think he would have been quite as lenient as Robert, do you?”

I have no idea. “

“Oh, haughty! The fact was, if I remember rightly, that he was quite interested in you. Wasn’t that the reason why he was sent off in a hurry?”

“That’s all in the past.”

“But the past is revived, Minelle. He has revived it by putting in an appearance. I like him. I am sure Robert will be jealous when he hears I was once meant for him. But then I shall tell him where Joel’s true fancy lies. I believe he has come here just to see you.”

“Nonsense.”

“Very unconvincingly said. I thought you always prided yourself on your adherence to the truth and logic. Of course he has come to see you.” She was serious suddenly.

“Oh, Minelle, it’s the right thing it is really. If he wants to take you home to England you should go.”

Do you want to be rid of me? “

“What a cruel thing to say. You know I’d hate you to go. I’m not thinking of myself.”

“A novel experience for you.”

“Stop this silly bantering. It’s serious. Things are bad here. There’s going to be an explosion at any minute. What do you think is happening? What of my father? I knew how he feels about you … and you about him. You’re a fool, Minelle. You don’t know him. I told you from the first he’s got the devil in him. He’s no good to any woman.” “Margot, stop it.”

“I won’t. I’m worried about you. We have been through the Chariot affair together. I’m fond of you. I want you to be happy … like I am. I want you to know what it means to marry a good man. If you marry Joel Derringham you’ll have a good life. You know you will.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until he asks me? He hasn’t, you know, and he showed clearly not so long ago that as people were thinking along those lines it would be well for him to get away.”

That was his people. Silly ideas they have. “

“But he must have agreed to go.”

“He did it because he’d always obeyed them. Now he’s grown up he’s changed his mind.”

“You do run on, Margot. You always did. He is merely paying a visit to old friends. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

She came to me and took my hand. Then she kissed me gently on the cheek.

“I know I’m a selfish butterfly, but there are people I love. Chariot, Robert and you, Minelle. I want you to be happy. I’ll come to England and your children and mine shall play together in the gardens of Derringham Manor. You’ll come to Grasseville and when we’re old we’ll talk about these days and we’ll laugh and laugh and live them again in our memories. That’s how I want it to be. That’s the best way. In your heart you know it. Oh, I am so glad he has come.”

Then she kissed me swiftly on the cheek and ran from the room.

We rode together, Joel and I. We talked of old times. How it brought it all back ! It filled me with a bitter-sweet nostalgia. Those happy days when a new ribbon for a dress was so important, and my mother and I used to sit on our little patch of lawn and talk about the future.

“I know how you miss her,” Joel said.

“You were wise to get away, although it is unfortunate that you should come to this country at this time. But to have stayed in the schoolhouse would have meant you kept your sad memories with you.”

“When are you returning home?”

“Any time now … perhaps sooner than I had thought.”

“Your family will not wish you to be in France just now, I am sure.”

“No. As a matter of fact several people I know are making hasty plans to leave. Here in this rather remote country spot you have no idea how quickly the situation has been changing and for the worse. I believe the Court is rapidly diminishing. People are finding excuses for leaving Versailles.”

“It sounds ominous.”

“Indeed, yes. Minelle, you must come back to England.”

Where should I go? “

“You could come with me.”

I raised my eyebrows and said: “Where to?”

“I have been thinking about this ever since I left. I was a fool to go. I don’t know why I did. I kept asking myself that for months. Then I promised myself that I would break right away and make new interests, but I couldn’t. The fact is, Minella, I have been thinking of you every day since I last saw you. I know now that I shall go on doing that. I want you to marry me.”

“What of your family?”

They will come round. My father has never been harsh. Nor has my mother. Before anything, they want my happiness. “

I shook my head.

“It wouldn’t be wise. There would be opposition. I should not be accepted.”

“My dear Minella, we’d overcome all that in a week.”

“I shouldn’t want to be accepted on sufferance.”

“If that is the only reason why you hesitate …”

“It is not,” I replied.

Then why . “

“In a case like ours where the marriage would be considered unsuitable…”

“Unsuitable! That’s nonsense! Your parents did not seem to think so. Let’s face it, Joel. We should go back to the small community in which I lived for some years as the schoolmistress’s daughter. I was even teacher to the children of your friends and neighbours. Don’t let us shut our eyes to that. In a small community it persists for ever. I am better educated than your sisters simply because I was able to assimilate knowledge better than they were-but that doesn’t count.

They are the daughters of Sir John Derringham, Baronet, Squire of the Manor. I am the daughter of the schoolmistress. In a society like that it is an unbridgeable gulf. “

“Do you mean to tell me that a woman of your spirit would allow such a silly convention to deter her from what she wanted?”

“If she wanted it enough it wouldn’t, of course.”

“You mean that you don’t love me.”

“You make it sound unfriendly. I like you very much. It’s a great pleasure to see you again, but marriage is a serious matter … a lifelong affair. I think you are rushing into this. You see me as a damsel in distress. I am stranded here and revolution creeps nearer.

Where can I go? You would rescue me like a medieval knight. It’s very commendable but not enough to build a marriage on. “

“You can’t forget that I went away. If I had stayed .. i. defied my parents … it would have been different.”

“Who can say? So much has happened since then.”

‘you were sorry when I went? “

“Yes, I was sorry. I was a little hurt, but it was not a deep wound.”

“I am going to suggest that you and I are married here, now … in France. Then we shall go back to England … husband and wife.”

“That’s very bold of you, Joel. How would you face your parents?”

“You are trying to hurt me. I understand. I hurt you when I went away.

But believe me, I regretted it. I regretted it deeply. Look at it my way, Minella. I had lived with my parents all my life except when I was at the university. We are an amicable family. We always try to please each other and consider what the others want. It is second nature to us. When my father implored me to go away and consider for a while, I naturally obeyed him even though my deepest inclination was to stay. When you know my father, you will understand. Now when I take you back as my wife he will welcome you, because that is what will make me happy. He already admires you. He will learn, to love you. Minella, please don’t let the past influence you. Forgive me for what I did. You think it is weakness . and so it is, but what happened has made me sure of what I want now and I know that without you I can never be really happy again. There are things in my life which you will find irritating. I am cautious . over-cautious. I rarely act without thinking. It’s my nature. So when I fall in love, because it is the first time -and it will be the last-I am unsure of my emotions. It was only when I went away and communed with myself that I understood. Now I know that more than anything I want to marry you. I want to take you back to Derringham, I want us to be together there for the rest of our lives. “

White he was speaking it was as though my mother had come to stand beside him. I could almost see the joy in her eyes, the tears falling down her cheeks.

“Well, Minella?” he asked gently.

“It can’t be,” I said.

“It’s too late.”

“What do you mean… too late?”

I mean that it is not the same as it was. “

If I had asked you before I left . it would have been different, you mean? “

“Life is not static, is it? I have grown away from Derringham. A few days ago I had no idea that I should ever see you again. Then you come back and say marry me. You ask me to decide to change my life in a few minutes.”

I see,” he said. T. should have waited. I should have let you become accustomed to seeing me again. All right, Minella, we’ll wait. Take a few days. Think of all it would mean. Remember those walks and rides we had together and all the things we talked of. Do you recall them?”

“Yes, they were good times.”

There will be many good times, my dear. Well go back where we both belong. Well be together. Well watch the seasons come and go and each year we’ll grow closer to each other. Do you remember how we got along right from the first? Our minds fitted, didn’t they? I’ve never been so stimulated by anyone as I was during our walks together. Minella, it is what your mother would have liked more than anything. “

I was deeply moved at that moment. He was right. She, who had always wanted the best for me, had wanted this desperately. I thought of her plundering the dower chest to buy clothes for me. I could almost hear her gleeful whisper: “It was not in vain after all For her sake I should consider this.

He could see that I was hesitating and he cried triumphantly: “Yes, Minella, we must have time to think of this. But, my dearest, don’t be too long. We are on the edge of a volcano here. I shall not feel safe until we are aboard the packet and alight on English soil.”

I was relieved that I had not to give an immediate answer. I wanted to be alone to think.

I was not in love with Joel. I liked him, respected him, trusted him, understood him and could see ahead of me to the kind of life I would have with him. He was eminently eligible. He was the man my mother would have chosen for me.

And the Comte? Did I love him? I didn’t know. All I did know was that I was more excited by him than I had ever been in my life. Did I trust and respect him? How could I trust and respect a man whom I suspected of murdering his wife? Did I understand him? How could I know what was going on in that devious mind? And the life I might have with him? I thought of his wife’s words. He had an obsession for me, but how long would it last? I thought of his mistress waiting like a spider to catch her fly. And the background of our lives -this tortured country where the holocaust was likely to break forth at any moment. And then what would happen to people like the Comte and his family?

I thought of the peaceful green meadows of England, the woods where in early summer the bluebells were a blue mist under the trees. I thought of the primroses and violets in the hedges and gathering cob nuts in the autumn; and a wave of nostalgia came over me. I thought of picking pussy willows and filling vases with them and how I had taken the pupils for rambles in the country so that they might have a lesson in simple botany.

Joel was bringing back these memories and it seemed to me that my mother was with me more vividly than ever.

Joel pressed my hand.

“Dear Minella, think about it

Think what it would mean to us both. “

I looked at him and saw the kindliness in his face and I thought how like his father he was. I knew then that if he took me home as his wife. Sir John and Lady Derringham would not let the fact that I was not the bride they would have chosen for him stand in the way of their welcome. I knew that I would have the power to win their love and that I could without much difficulty overcome all the obstacles between myself and the happy life my mother had longed for me to have.

There was, of course, the Comte.

If I had never known him there could have been no hesitation. But having known him nothing could ever be the same again.

For the next two days I was constantly in Joel’s company. He did not speak of marriage he was the most tactful of men. We walked a good deal together; we talked of all sorts of subjects on which he was knowledgeable: The illness of the King of England; the wildness of his son, the Prince of Wales;

the dissatisfaction of the English with the royal family; the difference between the discontent at home and in France.

“We are of a different temperament,” he said. I don’t think it could come to revolution in England. There are the differences between rich and poor, there are the resentments; there are the occasional riots . but the atmosphere is quite different. It’s coming here, Minella.

You can feel it . right overhead . about to break. “

He knew a great deal about the situation and it was ironical that I should learn more from him than from anyone else. He was the looker-on who saw the best of the game. Moreover he was astute, politically-minded and shrewd.

Louis is the worst kind of king for his times,” he said.

“It’s sad because he is a good man. But he’s weak. He wants to be good. He sympathizes with the people but he is too lethargic. He believes all men are as well-meaning as himself. Alas for France! And the Queen, poor Marie Antoinette. She was too young to have so much thrust upon her. Oh, she has been guilty of great extravagance. But she was only a child. Imagine her coming from the stem rigid rule of her indomitable mother to be the petted darling of the dissolute

The Reign of Terror Court of France. Naturally it went to her head and she was too feather-brained to understand what damage she was doing. What is coming is inevitable and it will bring no good to France. The mob will have the heads of all the aristocrats it can lay its hands on-no matter whether they are its enemies or not. There has been injustice and that should be abolished, but the greatest passion in the world is envy and soon the rabble in its rags will be on the march against the nobleman in his castle. “

It was uncomfortable hearing, and all the time I was thinking of the Comte.

Joel liked to walk with me after dark so that he could show me the stars in the sky-the lustre of Arcturus and Capella twinkling there, and when he pointed to Mars, conspicuously red on the horizon, it seemed ominous.

I recaptured the pleasure of being with him. He was never dull. We could discuss and disagree with the utmost amity.

The Reign of Terror

I

It was afternoon, just after the midday meal. The household was always sleepy at this time. Most took a siesta, a habit I had never fallen into.

There was a tap on my door, for I was in my bedroom, and when I opened it Armand the groom stood there.

“Mademoiselle,” he said, I have received a message from my master.”

His master? The Comte of course. Hadn’t Armand come with us from the chateaw? Yes, Armand? “

“Monsieur Ie Comte wants you to meet him, and I am to take you to him.”

“When?”

“Now, Mademoiselle. He wants us to leave as quietly as possible. He does not want anyone to know that he is in the neighbourhood.”

“He is in Grasseville?”

“Just beyond the town. Mademoiselle. He is waiting for you there. I have saddled your horse and she is ready in the stables.”

“Give me a moment then and I will change into my riding habit.”

“Yes, Mademoiselle, but I beg of you be quick and let no one know where you are going. These are the Comte’s orders.”

“You can rely on me,” I said, excitement rising within me.

He went. I locked the door and changed hastily. I was lucky and saw no one on the way down to the stables.

Armand looked relieved when he saw me.

“I trust, Mademoiselle …”

“It’s all right,” I said. I saw no one. “

That is well. “

He helped me into the saddle and very soon we were riding out together.

We skirted the town. I scarcely noticed the way we were going, so excited was I at the prospect of seeing the Comte. All my probing into the future of the last few days was being turned topsy-turvy just at the prospect of being with him. How could I possibly contemplate marrying one man when the thought of another set my mind whirling in excitement.

We rode on. I had never been in this direction before. The nature of the countryside had changed. It was hilly and we made our way through rough woodland. Once or twice Armand pulled up sharply. I stopped with him.

He appeared to be listening. There was no sound in the wood but the gentle trickle of a stream somewhere near and the sudden buzz of a bee as it flew past.

Armand nodded, appearing satisfied and prodded his horse.

We came to a small house in the wood. Its stone walls were covered in creeper, and the garden about it was a jungle of overgrown weeds and bushes.

“Is this our destination?” I asked in surprise.

Armand said it was.

“Follow me. Mademoiselle. Well take the horses to the back of the house and tether them there.”

We went round to the back. Whoever lived here could not have tended the garden for more than a year. I looked about for the Comte’s horse, for it must be here since he had chosen it for a rendezvous, but I could see nothing.

It was a gloomy spot and instinctively I shrank from alighting.

“Why,” I asked, ‘did the Comte choose such a place? “

Armand lifted his shoulders as though to say it was not for him to question the Comte’s commands, only to obey them.

He tethered his horse and came to help me alight. I felt a sudden inclination to spur my horse and gallop away from this place. There was something evil about it. Was it because for the last days I had been thinking about the peace of Derringham?

Armand was tying my horse beside his.

“Armand,” I said, “you will come in there with me?”

“But certainly. Mademoiselle.”

It’s such an . unpleasant little place. “

“It is because the overgrown bushes and shrubs make it dark. It is different inside.”

“Whose house is it?”

“It belongs to the Comte Fontaine Delibes, Mademoiselle.”

“How strange that he should own a house here. It is not on his estate.”

“It was a hunting lodge at one time. He has such places all over the country.”

I looked away to the right where a mound of earth rose up from the ground.

“Someone has been digging here recently,” I said.

“I do not know. Mademoiselle. But. look. “

“Oh, it would seem so. Let us go inside.”

“But I want to see this. Look, there’s a hole. It looks-‘ a cold shiver seized me ‘it looks like a grave.”

“Perhaps someone wanted to bury a dog.”

“It is rather big for a dog,” I said.

Armand had taken my arm and drew me to the door. He took a key from his pocket and, opening the door, gave me a gentle push. I was standing in a hall which was dark and a terrible foreboding came to me.

The door shut and I said: “Armand, surely the Comte would not come to a place like this. Where was his horse? If he is already here…”

“It may be that he has not arrived yet.”

I turned to look at him sharply. A subtle change had come over him. I had never taken much notice of Armand before. He had merely been the groom who had come with us from the chateau. Now he looked uneasy . furtive even. Nonsense! I thought quickly. Imagination! He had been in the Comte’s service for many years. It had once been said in Margot’s presence and she had not denied it. He was the Comte’s good servant. It was the atmosphere of this place which was doing something to my imagination. Then that hole outside which had looked like a grave. Someone had been here recently to dig it, I should discover.

Armand had gripped my arm as though he feared I would try to escape.

It was a strange way for a groom to behave.

He pushed me ahead of him. I thought I heard a sound in the house. I looked up. There seemed to be a film of dust everywhere. It looked like a house in which no one lived. Then who had dug the hole in the garden?

I was aware of Armand’s heavy breathing, and suddenly a fearful premonition came to me. I had been brought here to die. The grave in the garden was for me. I had been led into a trap and willingly I had stepped into it. What thoughts can pass through the mind in the space of a few seconds! The Comte had sent one of his servants to bring me here. Why? To kill me? To bury me in that grave in the garden . to leave me there . forgotten. Why? He loved me. He had said so. Did he? How could one know? He had the devil in him, how often had I heard that said of him. He wanted Ursule out of the way and he had killed her. He had wanted to marry Gabrielle who had already given him a son.

Then what of me? I was to be the scapegoat. If I disappeared it would be said that it was I who had put that fatal dose in Ursule’s glass.

Nou-Nou would support that theory. The Comte would be free of suspicion. Oh, nonsense, nonsense! But he had sent for me and I was here in this fearful place where every instinct was telling me that I was staring death in the face.

I turned, looking for escape. Then suddenly a door opened. For a moment my eyes would not look. I do not want to see him. I could not bear that my dream world should come tumbling about my ears. If I was going to die I wanted to die in ignorance, refusing to believe that of which so many people had tried to warn me.

Armand was immediately behind me. I lifted my eyes. Standing in the doorway was a figure . strangely familiar. I just had time to recognize the short neck, the hat with the brim, the dark wig before he sprang forward and seized me. There was a blinding flash and I was lying on the floor. There was an excruciating pain somewhere . I was not sure where . for everything was ebbing away, the evil house, the sinister man who had watched me for so long, my frightening speculation, my own consciousness.

When I opened my eyes I was lying in my old bedroom in the Hotel Delibes. There was cramping pain in my arm, which I realized was bandaged. I tried to struggle up but was immediately giddy and sank back on me pillows.

“Lie still,” said a voice.

“It is better so.”

I did not know the voice but it was soothing.

There was a parched feeling in my throat and almost immediately a cup was put to my lips. I drank something that was sweet and soothing.

That’s better,” said the voice.

“Now lie quietly. It might be painful if you move.”

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“Try to sleep,” was the answer; and so listless did I feel that I obeyed.

When I awoke I saw a woman at my bedside.

“Do you feel better?” It was the same voice as before.

“Yes, thanks. How did I get here? “

“The Comte will explain. He said he was to be called when you awoke.”

“He is here, then?” I felt suddenly joyous.

He was at my bedside. He took my free hand and kissed it. Thank God I set Perigot to watch over you. He did a good job. “

“What was it all about?”

“You came near to death, my darling. That villain would have killed you … and we should never have known what happened. He would have shot you through the heart or the head, which was what he planned to do, and then buried you in that godforsaken place. Why did you go?”

“With Armand, you mean? Why shouldn’t I, when he said he was taking me to you?”

oh my God, I wish I could get my hands on him. But I will, I promise you. “

“But Armand has been in your service for,..”

“In Etienne’s service, I believe. To think that a son of mine . What people will do for lands, title, money . If I never have a son at all he’ll get nothing now. “

“Do you mean that Armand took me there to kill me on Etienne’s orders? ”

“It could only be so. Armand has disappeared. When he realized that someone was in the house to foil his attempt he made off with all speed.”

“And this Perigot?”

A good man. He has been watchful of you. “

A nan with a short neck and a dark wig? “

“I don’t know about his wig, but I suppose, now you mention it, he has a short neck.”

“So you sent him to guard me?”

“Naturally I sent someone to guard you. I didn’t like what had happened on that day when you were fired at in the lane. Perigot did his work well. He followed Armand to the house, saw him dig the grave and guessed what was happening. When he saw you leave from Grasseville with him he made sure he was at the house waiting for you when you arrived. Armand was ready to kill you and would have done so if Perigot had not been ready. So the bullet entered your arm instead of your body. Perigot is upset because he did not overpower Armand before the shot was fired, but he was waiting in the house and could only do what he did. If ever we get back to normal, Perigot shall have lands and wealth for what he has done for me.”

“Armand!” I murmured.

“Why Armand?”

“He must work for Etienne. He was always Etienne’s groom. They were more than master and servant. It was Etienne maybe with his mother’s connivance, and this I shall discover -who arranged for your little adventure in the lane, I am sure. At least that put me on the alert. I was determined to take every precaution. I knew that if I could trust anyone I could trust Perigot. I am going to send for him so that you can thank him personally for saving your life.”

He came into the room. He looked different without his tall hat and wig, much younger and the short neck was less noticeable.

He bowed and I said: Thank you for saving my life. “

“Mademoiselle,” he replied, “I regret I did not save you completely. I fear that you became aware of me, which showed that I did not make myself unobtrusive enough.”

“I couldn’t help but be aware of you when you were always there. And how could you have looked after me so expertly if you had not been?”

The Comte said: “We are both grateful to you, Perigot Your service to us will not be forgotten.”

“It is my duty and pleasure to serve you. Monsieur Ie Comte,” he said.

“I trust it will be so for very many years.”

The Comte was deeply moved and I felt all my fears dropping from me. I wondered why I had ever doubted him but of course that was the effect his presence always had on me.

When Perigot had gone toe Comte sat by my bed and we talked. He said what had happened was clear. Etienne had always hoped to be legitimized and made heir to the estate and title. And so he would have been if there had been no legitimate son.

“Of course,” he said, ‘they know of my feelings for you and he began to be afraid. He guessed rightly that I intend to marry you and if you and I had a son-which we fully intend to do, do we not? his hopes would be completely blighted. Therefore you presented the threat. It’s clear, isn’t it? “

Where is Etienne? “

“He was at the chateau looking after estate duties. Armand will have gone to him to tell him of the failure of their plan. I doubt he is at the chateau now, for he will know that I am fully aware of what he has done. He will never dare show his face to me again. It is the end for Etienne. And now there is only one thing to be done. You and I shall marry without delay.”

I cried out in protest. I thought of my conversations with Joel.

Though I had not promised to marry him I had not completely refused him. How could I go straight to another man and marry him? Besides, when I thought of marriage, fears and doubts raised their heads once more. The Comte was horrified at Etienne’s attempt to murder me, but what of the death of Ursule? Had she not died because she stood in the way of what he wanted, just as I had seemed to stand in Etienne’s way?

“Why not?” he demanded fiercely.

“I am not ready,” I replied.

“What nonsense is this?”

“Not nonsense, sound good sense. I have to be sure.”

“Sure? You mean you are not sure?”

“I think I am, but there is much to consider. There must be in such a serious undertaking as marriage.”

“My dearest Minelle, there is only one thing to consider in marriage and that is whether two people love each other. I love you. Have you any doubts of that?”

“It may well be that we do not mean the same thing by love. I know you want to be with me, make love with me … but I am not sure that is being in love.”

What is, then? “

“Sharing a lifetime together, mutual respect, understanding. That is important, not the excitement of the moment. Desire, by its very nature, is transient. Before I married I should want to be sure that the man I married was the right father for the children I should have, that he was a man who would share my moral code, a man I could look up to and whom I could trust to be a good father to my children.”

“You set a high standard,” he said.

“I believe the schoolmistress cannot resist setting her suitors an examination.” “It may be so. And perhaps the schoolmistress is not the right wife for a man with a roving eye and a love of adventure.”

“My opinion is that she is just the right wife for him. Let us have an end to this nonsense. I will get a priest to marry us within a few days.”

“I must have time,” I insisted.

“You disappoint me, Minelle. I thought you were adventurous too.”

“You see, I am right. I disappoint you already.”

“I would rather be disappointed by you than pleased by any other woman.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“Is that the way to talk to your lord and master?”

“I can see that my proud spirit would never succumb. Oh, how wise I am to consider these things before rushing headlong into a marriage which could be disastrous.”

“It would be exciting disaster.

“I would give up the excitement to avoid the disaster.”

“You enchant me … you always do.”

“I can’t think why, when I never agree with you.”

“Too many people have agreed with me … or pretended to. It becomes monotonous.”

I prophesy that disagreement would become equally monotonous and less pleasing to you. “

Try me. Please, Minelle, try me. Listen, my love. Perhaps even now it is too late. The faubourgs are preparing to rise. They are coming against us. Let us enjoy life while we can. “

“Whoever comes against you, I must have time,” I insisted.

He sat by my bed for a long time. We did not speak much but he was silently pleading, I knew. I wavered. So much I wanted to say: “Yes, let us many. Let us have a little happiness together,” but I could not forget walking with Joel, talking with Joel, and perhaps most of all the memory of my mother.

I said suddenly: “Was a message sent to Grasseville to tell them where I was?”

He said that had been taken care of.

“Thank you. They would have been anxious.”

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep. I wanted to think, but of course my thoughts led me nowhere but back to the perpetual question.

It was the fourteenth day of July a date in France no one will ever forget. My arm was still bandaged but I was otherwise quite well and it was merely a matter of waiting for the wound to heal.

During the previous day there had been a hush over the city. The weather was hot and sultry and I had the impression that a great beast was crouching, ready to spring.

My own state of mind was tense. In a short time two attempts had been made on my life. One cannot pass through such ordeals unscathed.

I wanted to get away and be alone for a while. In such a mood I put on a light cloak and went out As I passed through the narrow streets I was aware that furtive glances came my way. Members of the King’s guards walked about uneasily.

In the distance I could hear the sound of singing.

Someone caught my arm.

“Minelle, are you mad?”

It was the Comte. He was soberly dressed in a brown cloak and a tall hat with a brim such as that which had been worn by Perigot. People now took the precaution of never being conspicuously well dressed in the streets.

“You should never have come out. I have been looking for you. I understood you had come in this direction of the Pont Neuf by the Quai de L’Horloge. We must go back at once.”

He drew me close to the wall as a party of young men-possibly students came running past. Their words made me shiver: “A bos les aristocrates. A la lanterne.”

We walked swiftly past. I was trembling, not for myself but for him. I knew that however homespun his garments he could never disguise his origins and none would mistake him long for anything but the man he was.

“We will go back at once,” he said.

Before we reached the Faubourg Saint-Honore, pandemonium had broken forth and the whole of Paris seemed to have gone mad. There was shouting and screaming in the streets. People were rushing backwards and forwards, joining mobs, chanting, shouting: “A la Bastille.”

“They are going to the prison,” said the Comte.

“My God, it has begun.”

We reached the Faubourg Saint-Honore in safety.

“You must leave Paris without delay,” he said.

“It will be unsafe to stay here. Change your clothes as quickly as you can and come down to the stables.”

I obeyed him. He was waiting impatiently for me there. He had given orders that those who could should leave the house, but not in a body, gradually. It must not be noticed that they were leaving.

He and I rode south in the direction of the chateau. It was night when we arrived.

As we stood in the hall he turned to me sadly and said:

“You left it too late, you see. The revolution has begun. You must leave for England at once. For God’s sake do not speak French, for you do it so well that the uneducated might mistake you for a Frenchwoman and you carry yourself in such a way that they would regard you as an enemy of the people.”

“What of you? You will escape to England?”

He shook his head.

“This is but the beginning. Who knows, there may yet be time to save the cnmibling regime. It is not for me to leave the sinking snip, Minelle. There is work for me here. I shall return to Paris. I shall go to see the King and his ministers. It may be that all is not lost. But you must go at once. That is my first concern.”

“You mean … leave you?”

For one moment there was such tenderness in his face that I scarcely recognized him as the man I knew. He held me close to him and kissed my hair.

“Foolish Minelle,” he said.

“Procrastinating Minelle. Now we must say goodbye. You must go and I must stay here.”

“I will stay,” I said.

He shook his head.

“I forbid it.”

“So you will send me away?”

He hesitated for a moment and I saw the emotions battling with each other. He believed now that if I stayed we should become lovers because that was what happened to people in desperate situations when death could be close at hand. They clutched at what life had to offer.

But if I stayed I should be in danger.

He said firmly: “I shall make immediate arrangements for you to leave.

Perigot has proved that he can be trusted. He will take you to Calais and you will leave tonight. There must be no delay. “

So this was how it had ended. I had been unable to decide for myself and the revolution had decided for me.

Darkness had fallen. I was preparing to leave. In the stables my horse was ready. The Comte had said my departure must be as quiet as possible.

“I shall have no peace while you are here,” he said. ‘you stand a good chance of escape with Perigot to guide you. Don’t forget, do not speak French unless it is necessary. Stress your nationality. It will carry you through. The people have no quarrel with foreigners. This is a war between Frenchmen and Frenchmen. “

I argued with him. I wanted to stay. Twice I had come near to death. I was ready to risk it again. Anything rather than leave him.

He was moved but adamant

“Ironical,” he said, when there was no danger you hesitated. You wanted to be sure, didn’t you? You didn’t trust me. Nothing has happened to establish that trust . and yet you are ready to risk your life to stay with me. Oh, perverse Minelle! “

I could only plead with him.

“Let me stay. Let me take a chance. Or come with me. Why should you not come to England?”

He shook his head.

“I am too involved here. I could not desert my colleagues. France is my country. She is about to be torn asunder. I must stay and fight for what I believe to be right. Listen, Minelle.

When it is all over I will come for you. “

I shook my head sadly.

You do not believe that? You think I will have forgotten you? I tell you this: whatever happens in the future . j whatever has happened in the past, I love you. You are the l only one for me . and although you do not know it yet . I am the one for you. How different our lives have been! We have lived by different codes. You have been brought up as a good Christian woman.

I .well, I have lived in a decadent society. It never occurred to me to consider whether I had a right to’ behave as I did. Not until I killed a child did I begin to take a little stock of myself, and then my environment was too strong for me. I reverted to type. When you came, I changed. I wanted a different life. You made me see everything in a new light.

You showed me how to see life through your eyes. I want more lessons, little schoolmistress, and only you can teach me. “

“Then I will stay. I will marry you and stay with you.”

“If I married you now you could become the Comtesse Fontaine Delibes.

That would not be a very good name to have in this new France. God knows what they will do to us, but it will be revenge . bitter and cruel. That I am sure of. The last thing that must happen to you just now is that you become one of us. There is only one course open to you now. You must go. It is too late for anything else. Come, we are wasting precious time. Goodbye, my dearest. No, au revoir. We shall meet again. “

I clung to him. Now I was sure. I belonged with him. I never wanted to leave him. I did not know whether he had killed his wife or not and in that moment I knew I could not have changed my feelings towards him even if he were guilty.

“Perigot is waiting in the stables. There must be no delay.”

He put his arm about me and we went out into the hot night air.

As soon as we approached the stables I knew that something was wrong.

I was aware of watching eyes, a movement, the sound of heavy breathing. He was aware of it too. His grip on my arm tightened as he drew me hastily towards the stables. Then suddenly there was a shout.

“He’s here. Take him now.”

As the Comte pushed me from him a torch flared up suddenly. I saw the mob then . twenty . thirty of them crowding in on us, eyes alight with brutal excitement. They were inflamed with the desire for revenge on any member of that class which had oppressed them for hundreds of years.

“Get into the stables,” he muttered to me.

I did not move. I could not leave him.

Then I saw a sight which sickened me. At their head was a face I knew.

Leon’s.

I only just recognized him in the light from the flare, so distorted was his expression. I had never thought Leon could look like that. His eyes were wild with hatred, his mouth distorted. How different from the suave and kindly man I had known!

“Hang him!” shouted a voice.

“Hang him? That’s too nice.”

Then they marched on him. I saw him fall . and Leon was there.

I could not hear what Leon said, but he was commanding them.

They took him away. I saw him attempt to fight them on but even he could do nothing against so many. I felt sick with fear and horror. I was shaking with misery.

Oh God, I thought. He is right. It is too late.

II

Perigot was beside me.

“Mademoiselle, we should go … quickly.”

“No,” I said, “I shall not go.”

There is nothing that can be done. “

“What will they do to him?”

They are killing his kind all over the country. Mademoiselle. His wish was that you should leave at once for England. This is no place for you. “

I shook my head.

“I shall not go until I know what has happened to him.”

Perigot said sadly: “Mademoiselle, there is nothing we can do. His wish must be obeyed.”

“I shall stay here until I know,” I said firmly.

I went into the chateau and to my room. I sat down wearily, my thoughts with him. What would they do to him? What punishment would they inflict for what they called centuries of injustice? His crime was that he belonged to the oppressors. It was now the turn of others to oppress.

He had tried so hard to save me. His thoughts had been all for me. If he had not returned with me to the chateau he would have been in Paris now. Not that there was safety there, but he would have been with his colleagues at the Court and surely they would have made some stand.

What could I do now? What was there to do? Nothing but wait.

Where had they taken him? Where was he now?

I dared not think.

Leon was the traitor. I had been fond of Leon. It was hard to believe that he would have been the one to lead the mob to the Comte. Nearly all his life he had been nurtured in the chateau fed, clothed and educated. And all the time he had nursed such resentment that at the first opportunity, he had turned against his benefactor. But his twin brother had been killed . by the Comte; and that was something which had never been forgiven.

But he had tried to recompense them. He had taken Leon into his household. Leon had looked after his family. Ursule had helped them. But they could not forgive. All those years they must have been waiting for revenge and Leon had so carefully concealed his true feelings as to deceive us all.

It was Leon whom I had seen on the night of the ball. That should have warned me. But I could not believe it then and had convinced myself that I was mistaken.

But what was the use of brooding on these matters now. There was only one thing that mattered. What was happening to the man I loved.

I stood at the window, peering out. I could see the light of a flare in the distance. I strained my eyes. Was he there now? They would kill him. It was murder I had seen in their eyes . the hatred for those who had been born to riches and possessed that which they coveted.

I believed that something died in me at that moment. Nothing I could ever do would be the same again. Life had shown me an opportunity to love, to live excitingly, dangerously perhaps and I had passed it by. My puritanical upbringing had not allowed me to accept what life was offering me. I wanted to make sure . and so I lost my chance.

This would have come. This was inevitable. But at least we might have had some life together.

Someone had come into my room. I turned sharply and saw Nou-Nou. :

“So they have taken him,” she said. They have taken the Comte. “

I nodded.

“God help him. They are in no mood to be gentle.”

I said passionately: They are madmen. They look like savages. And these are his own people . the people who have lived on his estate, benefited from his bounty . “

That could be dangerous talk,” she said.

“It’s true,” I cried.

“Nou-Nou, what will happen to him?”

They’ll hang him, most likely,” she said dispassionately.

“No!”

“It’s what they’re doing. Hanging them on the lanterns. That’s what I heard. They’ve taken the Bastille. It’s the start. It’s the beginning of the Reign of Terror. There is no chance for the Comte and his kind.

I’m glad my Ursule went when she did. This would have been terrible for her. They won’t spare the women, you know. “

I could not bear to look at her. She was so calm and almost gloating.

“Oh yes,” she went on, ‘it was right she should go when she did. It wouldn’t have done for her to live through this. “

I did not want to look at Nou-Nou, nor to listen to her;

I wanted to be alone with my sorrow.

But she came to me and sat beside me; she laid a cold hand over mine.

“You will never be with him now, will you?” she said.

“You will never lie beside him and exult in what she so dreaded. Her mother was the same. Some women are like that. They should never marry. It’s not fair to them. But they are reared in ignorance … as it is right they should be … and then suddenly they come to knowledge and they find it unendurable. Such was my little Ursule. Such a happy girl she was . playing with her dolls. She loved her dolls. They used to call her the Little Mother. And then … they married her to him. Anyone else would have been better. She was so like her mother in every way . yes, in every way.”

I wished she would go. I could think of nothing but him. What were they doing to him? He would suffer from indignity more than physical pain, I knew. I kept thinking of him as he had been the first time I had seen him, when I had called him the Devil, on Horseback. So proud, so formidable, invincible.

I can tell the truth now,” Nou-Nou was saying.

“It’s like a burden dropping from you. I always felt the need to tell the truth. I’ve been on the point of doing it many times. You suspected him, didn’t you?

Everyone suspected him-you too. Yes, some thought you’d have a hand in it. He had a motive, didn’t he? He was tied to her . and she couldn’t give him a son and there was a young healthy woman . you.

Mademoiselle. It was easy to see how he felt about you. They were all waiting, weren’t they? I laughed, I did, to think of Gabrielle LeGrand  What a blow for her, although she might have known it wouldn’t be her . even if he were free. But they go on hoping, don’t they? Such opinions they have of themselves. It was easy to see she had long been a habit with him. “

“Please, Nou-Nou,” I said, “I am very tired.”

“Yes, you’re tired and they’ve taken him, haven’t they? They’ll show no mercy to him. He wasn’t much of a one for showing mercy himself, was he? He’ll be swinging from a lantern by now. Perhaps they’ll hang him from one of his own.”

“Stop it, NouNou.”

“I hated him,” she said fiercely.

“I hated him for what he did to my Ursule. She dreaded his coming to her.”

“You’ve admitted it would have been the same with any man.”

“Some might have been kinder.”

“Nou-Nou, will you please leave me alone.”

“Not till I’ve told you. You must listen to me. It’s best to know the truth. It can do little good now. Perhaps that’s why I’m telling you.

I knew her mother well. She was good to me. She took me in when I had my trouble . when I lost my man and my little one. She put Ursule into my arms and she said: “Here is your baby now, Nou-Nou.” And then there was something to live for. She was my baby. My little love. And I stopped thinking so bitterly about my own sweet baby. Her mother was a sick woman. She was like Ursule . listless . never wanting to do much, turning away from her food, and then me pains started.

They flared up. She suffered terribly. She was mad with pain, and then she took her own life because she could not endure it any more. It was going to happen to Ursule. She was so like her mother. I knew, didn’t I? Who could know better? She had the pains . only mildly as her mother had had them at first and I had the doctors to her. They said she was suffering from that which had killed her mother. I knew what it was going to be like. “

She had my attention now. I was staring at her in amazed horror.

“Yes,” said Nou-Nou, ‘she would have suffered if she had lived. And she would never have taken her own life. She had strong feelings against that. She’d talked of them often.

“We’re here to fulfill a purpose, Nou-Nou,” she used to say.

“It’s no use giving up half-way.

If you do you’ll have to come back and do it all again. ” I couldn’t bear to think of her suffering … not my little Ursule. So I saw to it that she didn’t…”

“You, Nou-Nou. You killed her.”

To save her pain,” said Nou-Nou simply. There! I’m a murderess, you’re thinking. You’re thinking that they should take me and hang me on a lantern or send me to the guillotine.”

“I know you did it for love,” I said.

“Yes, I did it for love. My life is empty now she has gone. But I know this: she is suffering no pain where she is now. That’s how I console myself.”

“But you let it be thought…”

Sly lights came into her eyes. That he had killed her. Yes, I did. He had killed her . a thousand times in his thoughts. He wanted her out of the way, but he didn’t kill her. I, who longed to have her with me forever, did that. “

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

“My little one. She looked so peaceful lying there. She would just slip away, I knew. No pain … never again. All her fears of him were over. She is happy now, my baby. She is with that other baby … my two darlings together.”

“Oh, Nou-Nou,” I said, and tried to put an arm about her.

She threw me off.

“You’ll never have him now,” she said malevolently.

“It’s all over.”

Then she rose and glided towards the door. She stopped there and looked back at me.

“You should go home,” she said.

“Forget this happened … if you can.” She took a step back into the room and fixed her wild eyes on me.

“You are in danger too. They let you go tonight, but you are one of them, remember.” Her lips twisted into a grim smile. The cousin . the same family. Now you will see what it means to belong to such a family. They were after the big fish tonight. But all fishes are sweet, as is the blood of aristocrats to them. They want to see it flow . the sons’, the daughters’, the nieces’, the nephews’, the cousins . “

“Nou-Nou,” I began, but she had turned away and as she went she muttered: They will come, I tell you. They will come for you. “

Then she went out and left me.

I felt stunned by her revelation. I had misjudged him, and I might never have a chance to ask his pardon.

What was happening to him now? Desperately I tried to curb my imagination. I could not shut out of my mind the memory of those distorted faces, crazy with blood lust, determined on revenge.

They had taken him. Nou-Nou’s voice kept echoing in my ears: They will come for you. “

I sat at the window waiting for the morning. What I should do then I did not know. Where had they taken him? What had happened to him?

Perhaps already . I would not allow myself to believe that. I found myself making bargains with God.

“Let me see him … only once. Let me tell him that I know now how I misjudged him. Let me tell him that I love him . that I have always loved him, but that I was too inexperienced, too bound by convention, to know it. Once … let me see him once.”

He would have said I should not be here. I should have gone off with Perigot while there was a chance. How could I? I could think of nothing but him. My own safety seemed of no importance. If they were going to kill him they could kill me with him.

In the distance I heard shouting. I was immediately at the window, looking out. There were lights among the trees . torches coming nearer to the chateau as I watched.

Now I could hear their voices. Did I imagine it or could I hear the word: Cousine. “

They were chanting something.

Footsteps outside my door. Light running footsteps.

Voices were whispering. It was the servants.

“They are coming for the cousin … now.”

I went back to the window. I heard it distinctly.

“A bos la cousine. A la lanterne.”

My throat was dry. So it had come, then. I was to be taken’ by the mob as he had been. This was the price I was to pay. I had allowed myself to be drawn into subterfuge. I had pretended to be Margot’s cousin for her sake and afterwards I had allowed the deception to be continued.

Now this very pretence could cost me my life.

I did not want to die. I wanted so much to live, to be with my love, to grow old with him. There was so much I had to learn about him, about life. I had so much to live for . if he could be with me.

The noise from below was horrific. I shut my eyes and it was as though those faces made hideous by greed, envy, hatred and malice were closing in on me.

The light from the torches illumined my room. In the mirror I caught a glimpse of a wild-eyed woman whom I scarcely recognized as myself.

At any moment now . There was a hammering on my door. I went to it and leaned against it.

“Open … quickly.” It was Perigot.

I turned the key. He seized my arm and dragged me into the corridor.

He ran pulling me with him. We mounted a spiral staircase which went on and on.

We had reached the watch tower.

There he touched a panel and the wood slid back disclosing a cavity.

“Get in,” he said.

“You could be safe here. They will search the chateau but few know of this place. I will come back when they have gone.”

The panel shut on me. I was in complete darkness.

I beard them come into the watch tower. I heard their laughter and their ugly threats as to what they would do when they found me.

Again and again I heard the word “Cousine’ and my thoughts went back to the peaceful days of my life when my mother had been alive and it would have seemed impossible that I should ever become a victim of the French revolution. Cousin … That was when it had began. It was when I had agreed to come to France with Margot and pose as her cousin. If I had not done so … No, I told myself, even with danger and the prospect of violent death close to me, I would do it again. I regret nothing … except my doubts of the Comte.

“The Devil on Horseback.” I used it tenderly now.

My Devil. But I wanted nothing else from life but to be with him, and I would risk anything . even my life . for the time I had spent with him. He loved me and I loved him and I would give my life for that.

At any moment I was expecting the wall to open. They would find the secret sliding panel. Perhaps they would tear the walls down. I crouched, waiting in horror.

Then I realized that the noise had died away. Was I safe, then?

It seemed like hours that I waited there in the quiet darkness and then Perigot came.

He had brought rugs and candles.

“You will have to stay here for a while,” he said.

“The mob was murderous. They have ransacked the chateau and taken away some of the valuables. Thank God, they did not set it on fire. I have convinced them that you escaped when they took the Comte. Some of them have taken horses from the stables and gone off in pursuit. It will die down in a day or two. They have others with whom to occupy themselves.

You must stay here until I can take you away. As soon as it is possible I will take you to Grasseville. “

“Perigot,” I said, ‘it is the second time I have owed my life to you.”

“The Comte would never forgive me if I allowed you to come to any harm.”

“You talk of him as though …”

“Mademoiselle,” he said seriously, ‘the Comte was always one to extricate himself from trouble. He will do it again. “

“Oh Perigot, how is that possible?”

“Only God … and the Comte… will know. Mademoiselle. But it must be. It will be.”

And Perigot’s words did more to lighten the darkness of my hiding place than his candles could ever do.

I passed through that night somehow in my candlelit prison. I lay on my rugs and I thought of the Comte. Perigot was right. He would find some way out.

Perigot came early next morning. He brought food which I could not eat.

He said that he would have two horses ready in the stables. Thank God the mob had not taken them all. We must slip down after dark for he did not know whom he could trust. I must try to eat something and be ready when the moment came.

It was the following night when Perigot came again to the tower. I knew that he could not make many journeys to me during the day for fear of arousing suspicion.

“You are leaving immediately,” he whispered.

“Be careful.

Don’t speak. We have to get down to the stables undetected. “

I stepped out of my hiding place and stood in the watch tower.

Perigot shut the panel and turned to me.

“Now we must descend the spiral staircase. I shall go first. Follow me carefully.”

I nodded and was about to speak when he put his fingers to his lips.

Then he started down the staircase.

In the main part of the chateau we had to be especially careful for I understood that we could not know who in the household might betray me. Carefully he went while I folowed. It seemed a long journey but finally we were out of the castle and the cool night air seemed intoxicating after my prison in the hole behind the walls of the watch tower.

Then . my heart leaped in terror for as we entered the stables a man came towards us.

This is the end, I thought. Then I saw who it was.

“Joel!” I cried.

“Hush,” whispered Perigot.

“All is ready.”

“Come, Minella,” said Joel, and helped me into the saddle.

Perigot came close.

“Your English friend will take you to safety.

Mademoiselle,” he said.

“I have news of the Comte. They did not kill him.”

“Oh … Perigot! Is that true? You know …”

He nodded.

“They have taken him to Paris. He is in the Conciergerie.”

“Where they go … to await death.”

The Comte is not yet dead. Mademoiselle. “

Thank God. Thank you. Perigot, how can I ever . “Go quickly,” said Perigot.

“Keep in good heart.”

Joel said again: “Come, Minella.”

We came out of the stables, and then I was riding, side by side with Joel, away from the chateau.

Through the night we rode until Joel suggested that we give the horses a rest. It was not quite dawn when we came to a wood and we took the horses to a stream to drink. Then Joel tethered them and we leaned against a tree trunk and talked.

He told me how worried he had been when I disappeared and how relieved when a message came from the Comte to tell them that I was in Paris. Joel had gone to the house in Paris and learned where I was.

When he came to the chateau his object was to take me back to Grasseville, for Margot had decided to leave for England with her husband and Chariot. She would not go without me and he agreed whole-heartedly with her that we must leave as soon as possible.

Arriving at the chateau he heard what had happened and Perigot and he had agreed that it was like an act of Providence that he had come just at that time. He had arranged with Perigot that he and I should leave at once.

“Paris is terrifying,” he said. They are talking of what they will do to certain people when they have them in their hands. “

“Was… the Comte’s name mentioned?”

It is a well-known name. “

I shivered.

“And they have him,” I murmured. They came and took him.

Leon, that wicked traitor, led them to him. “

Thank God they did not get you. “

“It was Perigot who saved me … as he did before.”

“He is a devoted servant.”

“Oh, Joel,” I cried, ‘they have him there in the Conciergerie. The prison they call the ante-room of death. “

“But he is alive,” Joel reminded me.

“Etienne is in there also. I heard he had been taken with Armand.”

“So they will be there together. I was afraid the mob had killed me Comte.”

“No. Perigot told me he is too big a prize for an insignificant death.

The mob was persuaded to fake him to Paris. “

I felt sick with fear. They bad taken him to the Conciergerie, the waiting-room of death. They would make a good show of his journey to his execution. He was to represent the symbol of their power. Through him they would show that there would be no mercy on those aristocrats who fell into the hands of the people. The tables had been viciously turned. Yet at the same time my spirits were lifted a little because he still lived.

“I must go to Paris,” I said to Joel.

“No, Minella. We are going to Grasseville. We must leave this country without delay.”

“You must go, Joel, but I shall stay in Paris. While he lives I want to be near him. “

“It is madness,” said Joel. “Perhaps, but it is what I shall do.”

How patient Joel was with me. How clearly he understood. If I could not leave Paris, then nor would he. He spared himself nothing. He faced a hundred dangers for my sake. He had a friend in the Rue Saint-Jacques and we stayed in his house there. It was an unobtrusive dwelling among the booksellers and the seventeenth-century houses.

Many students lived there and in the sombre clothes which Joel had acquired for us we were inconspicuous.

To be in that city-once so proud and beautiful and to see it brought low as only mob rule can bring a city, was to suffer deeply, but to know that the man I loved was in the hands of those who would show no mercy was so profound a sorrow that I did not think I could ever recover from it. The shrieking mobs roamed the streets in their red caps. The nights were the most terrible. I used to lie in my bed shivering, for I knew that in the morning, if we ventured out, we should see lifeless corpses dangling from the lanterns . sometimes hideously mutilated.

“We should go now,” Joel was constantly telling me.

“There is nothing more we can do.”

But I could not go . not until I knew he was dead.

I would haunt the Cour du Mai and watch the tumbrils go by. I stood there among that morbidly fascinated crowd and listened to the jeers as some nobleman rode by, wig less head shaved, aloof, disdainful.

I was there when Etienne went by. Hauehty, showing no fear, proud of the fact right to the end that he was of noble blood, to establish which he had tried to kill me.

I thought: It is Etienne today. Will it be his father tomorrow?

It was night . hideous night. From my window I could hear the shouts of the people.

There was a sudden banging on the front door. I threw a robe about me and went on to the landing. Joel was already at the top of the stairs.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded.

I obeyed while he descended the stairs. Then I heard some one talking to him and a man came up the stairs with him. He wore a cloak and a hat pulled over his eyes.

He took off the hat when he saw me.

“Leon!” I cried, and such waves of anger swept over me that I was speechless. I could only stare at him.

“You are surprised to see me?” he said.

Then I found my voice.

“I wonder you dare come here! You, who betrayed him! He brought you to the chateau, gave you education, standing …”

Leon held up a hand.

“You misjudge me,” he said.

“I have come to try to save him.”

I laughed bitterly.

“I saw you on the night they took him.”

“I think,” said Joel, we should go somewhere where we can talk. Come into my room. “

I shook my head.

“I do not want to talk to this man,” I said.

“Go away. He has come to trick us, Joel. He doesn’t want his revenge to stop with the Comte.”

Joel had led us into his room. There was a table there with a few chairs.

“Come and sit down,” he said to me tenderly

I sat down, Joel beside me. Leon sat opposite. He was looking at me earnestly.

“I want to help you,” he said.

“I always had a great regard for you.” He smiled rather onesidedly.

“Why, at one time I thought of offering myself. But I knew how things were. I want you to know that I would be ready to do a great deal for you. I shall run great risks if I do this, but then this is a time of risks. Those who are alive one day are dead the next.”

“I want nothing to do with you,” I said.

“I know you for what you are.

I saw you throw the stone through the window on the night of the ball, but I could not believe my eyes and thought I had imagined it. I know now how wrong I was . for you were there when they took him. You were at their head. You led them to him. I saw the cruelty and hatred in your eyes and there was no mistaking you then. “

“But you were mistaken. I see I must convince you of my loyalty to the Comte.”

“You will never do that if you talk all night.” I turned to Joel.

“Send him away. He is a traitor.”

“There is little time left to us,” said Leon.

“Will you give me a few moments to explain, because if you are going to save the Comte you need my help, and anything I can do will be of no use unless you are ready.”

Joel was looking at me.

“I saw him,” I said.

“There can be no doubt.”

“You did not see me,” said Leon.

“You saw my twin brother.”

I laughed.

“It won’t do. We know he died. He was killed by the Comte’s horses and this is the reason why you were brought to the chateau.”

“My brother was injured … badly. It was thought he would never recover. They all thought he was dying. The Comte took me as recompense. But my brother did not die.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said.

“Nevertheless it’s true.”

“But where was he all those years?”

“When they knew he was going to recover my parents believed that if he did all the benefits which came from the chateau would cease. I should be sent from the chateau and one of the great joys of my parents’ life was to have an educated son … a ” chateau boy”, they called me. The thought of losing that was intolerable to them. They loved their children. Oh, they were good parents. That was the main reason why they did what they did. They arranged for my brother to ” die” … to appear to be dead, you see. They had a coffin made for him and he lay in it and when the time for burial came my uncle was the coffin-maker which simplified matters-it was nailed down and my brother smuggled out of the village to another, fifty miles away, where he was brought up with my cousins.”

“It’s an incredible story,” I said suspiciously.

“Nevertheless it’s true. We were identical twins. It is possible to tell the difference between us if you see us side by side … but we could easily be mistaken one for the other. My brother was less able to forgive the Comte than the rest of the family were. He bears the scars of his accident to this day. He walks with a limp. The present situation has given him the chance he has waited for all his life. In his early teens he was fomenting discontent among the peasants. He is clever, though without education. He is shrewd, daring, capable of anything that will bring revenge on a class which he hates, and there is one he hates above all others.”

He was so earnest, he told his story so plausibly, that I was beginning to be won over. I glanced at Joel who was watching Leon intently.

“Let us hear your plan,” he said.

“My brother is recognized as one of the leaders of the people. He was responsible for the capture of the Comte and bringing him to Paris.

The Comte is well known throughout the country as an aristocrat of aristocrats. It will be a great triumph for them when they can show him in the streets in his tumbril. There will be crowds in the Cour du Main on that day.

I said quickly: “What plan is this?”

“I would try to bring him out of the Conciergerie.”

“Impossible,” cried Joel.

“Almost,” replied Leon.

“But perhaps with a great deal of care, cunning and daring … it could be done, but you know to attempt it we should all be risking our lives.”

“We are all risking our lives here,” I said impatiently.

This would be a rather greater risk. You may not wish to undertake it.

To be caught would not mean only death . but horrible death. The people’s rage could send them into a frenzy against you. “

“I would do anything to save him,” I said. Then I looked at Joel.

“Joel,” I added, ‘you must not take part in this. “

“I’m afraid,” Leon pointed out, “I was counting on your help.”

“If you are in it, Minella, of course I shall be with you,” said Joel firmly.

“Let us hear what is expected of us.”

“As I said,” went on Leon, ‘my brother is one of the leaders of the revolution. He is known and respected by the people throughout France.

Some are afraid of him for his ruthlessness, and he would spare none who worked against the revolution. You did not know the difference between us when you saw him in the mob. You thought you saw me on the night of the ball when he was the one you saw. If my brother went to the Conciergerie and demanded co se-ie’ll ‘on i. he walked out with him to take him to another prison, he could do so,” I began to see what he was leading to.

“Are you saying you would go to the Conciergerie and impersonate your brother?”

“I could attempt it. I know his mannerisms, his walk, his voice. I can mutate them. Whether I should succeed is another matter.

If we are caught I warn you we should be taken by the mob and torn to pieces. It would not be a pleasant ending to our adventure. “

“Why are you proposing to do this?” I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. Today, one lives dangerously. You see me . between two worlds. I am of the people but by the nature of my upbringing I am on the other side. I am trusted by neither . as you have shown me. I have to come down on one side or the other and I have always had a weakness for lost causes. I am a man of some feeling. The Comte was as a father to me . oh, a remote sort of father . far far above me, rarely deigning to notice me. But I was proud to be his protege. I looked up to him. I used to promise myself that I would be like him. He is the sort of man I should most like to be. I cannot bear to think of such talents being destroyed. My motives are mixed.

All my life I have been told: “Do this, do that. It is the wish of the Comte.” Now I shall have the opportunity of going to the Comte and saying: “Do this. I, Leon, your peasant protege have it in my power to save your life.” Think of the satisfaction. There is another point-I have a fondness for him . and for you. Mademoiselle Minelle. I suspected Etienne and I cursed myself for not being there to save you.

But here is my opportunity. “

“Are you quite sure you want to take it?”

“I am completely sure. Listen. I shall go into the prison. I shall wear a cloak such as my brother wears. I shall sport the red cap. I shall talk in his voice, mutate his limp, which I can do so that none will know the difference between us. I shall say that the day for the execution of the Comte is fixed and it is to be a day of great rejoicing. We shall make it symbolic of the revolution. For this reason the Comte is not to leave from the Conciergerie as so many have done. He will go to another prison as yet to be secret and it will be the task of Jean Pierre Bourron-my brother-to take him to that secret place. I shall have my cabriolet waiting outside.” He turned to Joel.

“You will be my driver. As soon as we are in it you will drive with all speed. You, Minelle, will be waiting at the Quai de la Megisserie where we shall pick you up and then ride on with you as quickly as we can. On the edge of the city I shall have arranged for a fiacre with fresh horses.

Then. you will ride on t Grasseville where you can continue your journey to the coast. “

“It sounds as though it might work,” said Joel.

“It will need very careful planning.”

“You may rest assured that I have given my deepest thought to this.

Are you prepared to join me? “

I looked at Joel. What were we asking of him? He had come to France to take me home, to offer me marriage, and now we were suggesting that he should risk his life and perhaps face a terrible death-in order that I might find a future with another man.

But he was Joel and he did not hesitate as I knew he would not. I could almost hear my mother: “You see how right I was. He would be such a good husband to you.”

“Of course we must save the Comte,” said Joel. And I loved him for his calm reconciliation to whatever fate had to offer him. He was admirable, I knew, as the Comte could never be. But how perverse are our emotions!

Then,” said Leon, ‘let us get down to the details. If this is to work everything must go right all the way through. Not until you are on English soil will you be safe.”

All that night we were together . the three of us. Every detail was discussed over and over again. Leon reminded us once more of the risks we were running and impressed on us that only if we were prepared to consider the terrible cost of failure should we undertake this task.

Could it succeed?

I had watched them leave in the cabriolet, Joel disguised as the driver, Leon wrapped in the kind of clothes his brother favoured, the red cap on his head.

When they had left I went to take up my place at the Quai de la Megisserie.

There were many people in the streets as night came but we dared not attempt our rescue by day. I had tried to look like an old woman. My hair was completely hidden by my hood and I bent my back as I shuffled along the streets. They were terrifying, those streets by night. One could ever be sure when one would be confronted by some horrible sight. The shops were barricaded. Many of them had been looted.

Fires would spring up anywhere at any time. One would meet gangs of children singing (yd Ira.

Paris was the last place one should be in if one did not belong to it.

Perhaps this would be my last night here. It must be. I refused to contemplate failure.

How long the waiting seemed! I must be ready. I had been told to be there to step immediately into the cabriolet as it came along beside me. If it did not come in an hour, I was to make my way to our lodging in the Rue Saint-Jacques and wait there. If I heard nothing by the morning I was to leave Paris and make my way to Grasseville, where Margot and Robert would be waiting tor me to leave for England.

Never, never can I forget those fearful moments when I stood there in the heart of revolutionary Paris. I could smell the blood in the streets and the bodies in the river. I heard a clock strike nine and I knew that if they had succeeded, they must be on their way.

How cruel is the imagination! I was tormented by my own speculations.

I visualized a thousand horrors and it seemed to me as I stood there that our plan could not succeed. It was certain to be discovered. It was too wild. It was too dangerous.

I waited and waited. If they did not come soon I must make my way back to the Rue Saint-Jacques.

A leering man accosted me. I hurried away, but feared to go far. A crowd of students came marching down the road. If the cabriolet came now they might try to impede its progress.

“Oh God,” I prayed.

“Let this succeed. I would give anything I have to see his face again.”

The sound of wheels. It was the cabriolet, driving furiously towards me.

Leon stepped out and helped me in.

I looked at my love. His hands were manacled. His face was pale and there was a streak of blood on his left cheek. But he was smiling at me. That was enough. I felt I had never been so happy in my life-nor ever could be more so than I was at that moment on the Quai de la Megisserie.

AND AFTER

We made our escape. Leon left us once we were out of the city. He drove the cabriolet back into Paris.

Joel, the Comte and I went on to Grasseville where Robert and Margot were waiting for us. We were in England within a few days, where I became the Comtesse Fontaine Delibes. My husband was very ill and it was some weeks before I nursed him back to health. The Derringhams were very good friends to us.

Charles Auguste-it seemed odd at first to use that name and I never really became accustomed to calling him anything but The Comte in my thoughts-was no longer a rich and powerful man, but he was not penniless. He had money in various parts of the world and we could live comfortably enough, which we did on a small estate not far from the Derringhams. My husband was born to be a squire and it was not long before the estate began to prosper. By the time our first child was born-a son-we had added considerably to our land.

He had changed very little. He was still arrogant, overbearing, unpredictable, but after all, that was the man with whom I had fallen in love, so I would not have had him change. Life was not easy with him. I had not expected it to be. He used to talk vehemently of the rabble and I could see that his life in prison had left an indelible mark on him. He was bitter; he would never be completely content until he was back in France and had regained his estates. France was in his blood and he loved, his native land with an abiding passion. We quarrelled in a lighthearted way comparing our two countries, and he was always determined that one day we should go back.

Margot had another son and I was so happy that she, could give Robert the reward he wanted most. Chariot was growing into a strong, healthy boy. I often wondered about his father and I heard later from one of the servants that he had gone north and was doing very well up there.

Joel never married. I felt conscience-stricken about Joel. He was so good and kind; and without him we could never have brought my husband out of the Conciergerie. I wished that he would marry and be very happy. He deserved the best.

We were very sad on the day the King of France was executed and when he was shortly followed to the scaffold by the Queen that seemed the end of the old way of life.

They will never prosper, these murderers,” said Charles Auguste.

“They will fail, just as we failed. Then we shall go back to France and start again.”

I have changed a good deal, I believe. Charles Auguste says: “The schoolmistress has receded but she is ready to pop out now and then.

She will keep us in good order, I don’t doubt, until the end of our days. “

I am content, I have known great ecstasy and great fear-great joy and great sorrow. I suppose that is what life is , about.

My marriage has not been a bed of roses, as they say. We have quarrelled a great deal. Charles Auguste has an indomitable will and hates to be crossed; and I am a woman who could never suppress her own opinions if she thinks them to be right. It is inevitable that our lives should be stormy. It is what we both expect. But perhaps neither of us seeks the peaceful way, the essence of which is its uneventful tenor. It was the sort of life I should have had at Derringham and which my mother wanted for me.

When Charles Auguste went back to France for a brief visit to see what had happened to his estates, I did everything in my power to prevent his going. When he was adamant, I was determined to go with him. This he forbade, but I went all the same. I followed him, crossed on the same packet and when he came to the inn where he was to stay he found me there.

His fury was great. How violently we quarrelled! He had refused to take me with him because it might be dangerous. I had refused to stay for the same reason. That clash of wills! how often was it exercised. Sometimes he was the victor; sometimes I. I remember how we made love in that old inn at Calais after we had somehow laughed at our fury.

And After There could be no doubt that we were made for each other.

So the years passed.

The revolution was over, and those who had escaped started coming back. Leon distinguished himself in Napoleon’s army.

The new regime was no more successful than the old. There would always be men without possessions who wanted those of others, and envy, hatred, malice, indifference to others would prevail for ever, it seemed.

We went back to the chateau which was miraculously unscathed. What a thrill it was to mount those steps to the platform and look back . and back . Margot and Robert and their three children returned with Charles Auguste, myself and our two sons. And so life went on . uneasily sometimes. There was conflict between our two countries, for when the new France had risen from the ashes, she had sought to conquer the-world under the Corsican adventurer. We used to discuss, argue, rarely agreeing. I was for my country; he was for his.

Once he said to me: “Do you know, you ought to have married Joel Derringham. You would have agreed about everything. Just imagine how easy life would have been.”

“Do you really think I should have?” I asked.

He shook his head and looked at me in the mocking way which was so familiar to me now and which I had first seen when I had opened his bedroom door and was caught peering in.

“It would have been too dull for one of your temperament, too easy.

You would have become like hundreds of other ladies. You would have shrunk instead of expanding. You would have been charming and pleasant and inwardly bored. Have you ever been bored since you married me?

Come, tell the truth. “

“No. But I have been exasperated. I have been furiously angry. I have asked myself why I stay with you.”

“And what was the answer to that all-important question?”

“The answer was that I only stayed with you because I should have been the most miserable woman on earth if ever I left you.”

He laughed, but as he drew me to him and held me fast he was suddenly tender.

“Rejoice,” he cried.

“At last we are in agreement.”

Content

Victoria Holt
The Devil On Horseback

DERRINGHAM MANOR

I

II

III

The Sojourn at Petit Montlys

I

II

III

AT THE CHATEAU SILVAINE

I

II

III

IV

The Waiting City

I

II

III

AT THE CHATEAU GRAS SEVILLE

I

II

III

The Reign of Terror

I

II

AND AFTER