"Certainly he knew your age. It was not easy to find you. Your mother had determined to lose herself when she left the Island."

"She went to her own family, you know."

"Your father told me nothing of them. But when I saw the papers and learned that you were about to be married, I came to London."

"It seems strange that you should not have told me who you were."

"Ah, that was due to a little quirk in my nature. I have them, as you will discover. I like to surprise. I like life to be dramatic. I wanted to know you before you knew me. So I came to the recital."

"How? The Carringtons didn't know you."

"Shall we say I gate-crashed. It's easy enough—with a certain amount of aplomb. A quality which I possess in abundance. One didn't have to produce a ticket."

"What... impudence!"

"Yes, I have my share of that too."

"How did you get into the house in Finlay Square. You said the agent gave you a key, but it seems there were only two keys."

"That was what the agent told you. You know what these house agents are. They want to make sure of a sale and apparently there was some hesitation about this one."

"How was it that you were there at exactly the same time as I was?"

"I waited until I saw you enter the house. Easy to understand, eh? Let me tell you this: I had a duty. I am your guardian. I wanted to make sure what sort of family this was you were marrying into."

"You quickly discovered who the Carringtons were, I'm sure."

"Yes, I discovered a good deal about them. And then the tragedy happened and I asked you to come here. Is it becoming clear to you now?"

"Yes," I answered.

"I hope, Ellen," he said very earnestly, "that you will stay with us for a very long time."

"You are kind," I replied with a touch of asperity, for I didn't believe he was telling me the whole truth even now.

"I want you to like this place," he went on. "I feel strongly about it. It's been my home for so long. Your mother took you away but now you are back with us. You have come through a bitter tragedy and I hope that we shall help you grow away from it."

He looked sincere now. His heavy lids were lifted and his eyes seemed serene and very friendly. I think his was the most expressive face I had ever seen. A few moments before, he had looked so mischievous and I remembered that in the house in Finlay Square he had seemed almost satanic; now his looks matched his words and he had become the kindly protective guardian.

I was not sure of him but I did find him interesting.

"What shall I call you?" I asked.

"Jago, of course. That is my name and we're distant cousins. Don'tlet the fact that I am your guardian overawe you."

"Indeed I shall not. I have stood on my own feet most of my life and I certainly don't need a guardian at this stage."

"But you have one, Ellen, whether you want him or not, and as he is a man blessed—or cursed—with a very strong sense of duty, however much you object to his guardianship, he will feel obliged to honor his promises. So call me Jago and we'll be friends. It's the British form of James, you know, and it dates back to earliest times. As a student of the past—and I hope I'm going to interest you in some of our old customs—I make a point of knowing such things. James from the Latin Jacobus. It has no Spanish origin at all. Some people think it has because of the Spanish element along this coast. We were constantly raided by the Spaniards in Elizabethan days and then when the Armada failed, many of its seamen were wrecked here. But Jago is simply Old British... not English, mind you. What do you know of ancient history?"

"Very little," I answered. "I suppose I learned something from our governess, but I don't remember much."

"We're the pure British," he went on. "Uncontaminated by the races who made up the English. They didn't penetrate as far as the Islands, so we kept our characteristics... our old customs. You must discover something of this while you're here. It's Kellaway heritage. This Island has been in our possession for several centuries. It's a wonderful island; it's fertile, for the climate is conducive to growing things; we're protected by the rock formations on the east from the colder winds and on the west from the southwest gales, while the Gulf Stream keeps us warm. I'll show you the palms in my sheltered gardens. We have our township, our church, our cemetery, our inn, our thriving community. We are independent... almost... of the mainland; and it's all Kellaway land."

As he was speaking his manner changed yet again. Now he was glowing with pride of possession. I could see that he loved this Island and I warmed towards him because that fierce enthusiasm was infectious. I hadn't seen the place properly yet but I was beginning to glow with pride because 1 was a Kellaway and this was Kellaway land.

I waited eagerly for him to tell me more. He noticed my interest and remarked on it; it pleased him, I could see.

"I shall enjoy showing you everything, Ellen," he said. "We have our celebrations here—our mummers, our hurlers and wrestlers, our bonfires on Midsummer's Eve. All the old customs prevail here—more so perhaps than on the mainland—and some of these customs go back to pre-Christian days. But it is the family you must first get to know. There's Jenifry, my sister. She's a widow who lost her husband some years ago. That was during the typhoid epidemic which struck the mainland and filtered through to our Island. She's a few years older than I am and is the chatelaine of the castle, you might say. She's visiting one of the cottagers now who's bedridden. You'll learn how we care for everyone here. They look to us in their troubles. It's quite a responsibility, you know. Jenifry's daughter, Gwennol, will be company for you. She's about your age. She'll help look after you. Now tell me about yourself... and your life in your cousin's house."

I started to tell him and it seemed to amuse him, or perhaps I stressed the amusing side. I always seemed to do that when talking of Cousin Agatha.

"Oh come," he protested, "it wasn't very comfortable, was it? She had a daughter, didn't she, who wasn't half as attractive as you are? I saw that much. And she made you feel you were living on her bounty."

I was surprised that he had been so perceptive. "It's a common enough story," I said.

"And then," he went on, "this young man came forward—rich and indulgent. They wanted him for their daughter and he chose you—wise young man. And then he killed himself."

"He didn't. He could not have done it. If you had known him you would realize that was impossible."

"It's all over." His voice had become soft and soothing. "It's in the past. I mentioned it only because it had to be spoken of. Now we will not speak of it again. We have to think of the present... and the future. But before we dismiss the subject tell me what were your plans before you had my letter."

"I was going to be a governess to a friend of my cousin."

"And you were not looking forward to the prospect?"

"I hated it," I said vehemently.

"I should think so! You ... a governess! My dear Ellen, it wouldn't do. You're too proud for such a menial task. You should be engaging governesses for your own children."

"But I am unmarried."

"An attractive girl such as you are will not remain single long."

I shook my head. "I have no intention ..." I began.

"Of course you haven't until the right man comes along. As your guardian, I should like to see you happily married. Well now, I daresay you would like to go to your room and rest awhile. If there is anything you need, just ring the bell. Janet has been told to look after you."

I rose and he did the same, going to the bell rope and pulling it. Then he laid his hand on my shoulder and gripped it firmly. I could feel the strength of his fingers as we walked to the door.

Almost immediately a servant appeared.

"Take Miss Ellen to her room," he ordered, pressing my shoulder affectionately and smiling at me as he released me.

I went to my room in a strange mood. He was the most unusual man I had ever met. I was not at all sure of him and I could not rid myself of the feeling he had inspired in me when we had been alone in the house in Finlay Square. His moods seemed to change so quickly and his personality with them. Of one thing I was certain: I did not know what to make of my guardian-cousin Jago.

I certainly did not want to rest. I was too excited. There was plenty of time before dinner to explore the castle ground. I had been told very clearly that I was to make myself at home. Well, I would begin by looking round and taking stock of my surroundings.

I descended the staircase by which I had been brought to my room and came to the guardroom. Being there alone moved me in a manner I had not experienced when others had been present. Everything was so different from what I had imagined. A grand castle and a guardian who was not a middle-aged gentleman but a man not much more than thirty who behaved in an unconventional manner. There were his sister and daughter, whom I was to meet, and they were descended from that branch of the family which was reputed to have been entangled with the Devil. The prospect of the future, which I was sure in such a place dominated by such a man was going to be far from dull, stimulated me, and I felt more alive than I had since Philip's death. I wondered why my mother had left here so hurriedly and mysteriously. I was determined to find out. How different my life would have been if she had not!

And as I stood there the guardroom seemed to take on a menacing aspect, and it occurred to me that I had come here in rather a reckless fashion. Oh no, this was my family. I was just feeling uneasy because of the shock of finding that Jago Kellaway was the man who had frightened me in the house in Finlay Square. He was a sort of joker in an unconventional way. There were people like that. He had admitted he liked dramatic happenings. Yes, I thought, with him playing the leading swashbuckling role!

This apprehension was natural. Hadn't I always been impressed by atmosphere? I shuddered now to recall the repulsion I had felt when I had first entered the house in Finlay Square. This room—medieval in aspect—with the weapons on its walls—two swords crossed, an ax, something which was half spear, half battle-ax and which I believed was called a halberd—had subconsciously reminded me of the gun room at Trentham Towers where Philip had shown me the pistol, the fellow of which had been the weapon which had killed him. It was this shadowy memory which was tapping on my mind now, reminding me of hidden dangers. I fancied that just as I had sensed a warning in the house in Finlay Square, so I did now in Kellaway Castle.

I moved towards the door; my footsteps ringing on the marble paving stones seemed to fill the guardroom with sound. I stood still. What a silence! It is foolish to endow a house with a personality. But is it? When a house has stood for seven hundred years much must have happened within its walls. If those stones could speak what tales they would have to tell! And in houses such as this there would have been gaiety and sorrow, comedy and tragedy. I have the feeling sometimes that these emotions have been captured and held within stone walls and that there are times when they cannot keep them secret.

Stupid imaginings, but I was in an uncertain state. I was trying to throw off one life with all its unhappy repercussions and embrace a new one of which I was equally uncertain.

I stepped out into a courtyard and saw an archway which appeared to be cut into the wall. It led into another courtyard slightly lower than the one I had just left and I crossed it and went down steps to an even lower one. A few windows looked out onto this courtyard; they were small and leaded. There was yet another archway and from this wound a pathway with stone walls on either side. I took this pathway.

As I walked along it I heard the sudden flutter of wings and the cooing sound of birds. I had come into yet another courtyard. This was where the cooing sound had come from, for there were several pigeons pecking at maize which was scattered over the stones.

As I approached, some of them fluttered up and perched on the little dovecotes which were attached to the walls; others ignored me and went on picking up the maize. Most of the pigeons were the bluish gray common color but some of them were brown. I had never seen pigeons that color before.