Jago followed my gaze. "Blue Rock," he said. "It's a pity we allowed that to pass out of our hands. It belonged to the Kellaways at one time."

"What happened then?"

"Your grandfather sold it. He was in financial difficulties. To tell the truth, he was a bit of a gambler. I think the family have regretted the sale ever since."

"Is that a house on it?"

"Yes. It's Blue Rock House. The one built by that Gwennol I told you about."

"Does anyone live there now?"

"An artist. He inherited it from the man your grandfather sold it to. I think he's a nephew... or great-nephew or something."

"Does he live there alone?"

"Quite alone. He's not there all the time though. He travels around a bit, I believe."

"Is he a well-known artist?"

"I don't know enough about such matters to tell you. His name is James Manton. Have you ever heard it?"

"I can't say I have, although I don't know very much about painters either. My mother was an artist. I remember how she always had a sketchbook with her and she used to draw pictures to amuse me. Perhaps I shall meet this James Manton."

"He doesn't visit the Island. He and your father didn't like each other. Look. You can see the mainland. Can you make it out?"

I could. "It's a comforting sight," I commented.

"Comforting." A faint frown appeared between his eyes.

"One doesn't feel so cut off from the rest of the world," I explained.

"Does it bother you then ... to feel cut off?"

"Not really, but I suppose one would always be aware of being on an island and therefore it's nice to know that the mainland is not far away."

"One is, you know, when the weather is bad ... as you've discovered. There are some seas it would be folly to put out in."

"Yes, but there is always the knowledge that it will change and that the bad weather won't last forever."

He nodded.

"I will show you our community. It's complete in itself. We are a little kingdom, you might say. There is much of long-ago times left on the Island and I intend to keep it that way."

We cantered across a green stretch and had come to the shore.

He showed me a stake stuck in the sand. "At high tide," he said, "that will be covered with water. It's been there five hundred years. At that time the lord of the Island—it must have been a Kellaway—would order that a criminal should be tied to it at low tide. He would be given two barley loaves and a pitcher of water and left there. When the tide rose he would be drowned."

"How cruel."

"It was the justice of the day."

"You don't follow that practice now, I hope," I said jocularly.

"No, but I keep good order here, as I told you. Look! There is the old ducking stool. It is used even now.... Sometimes a man's friend will duck his nagging wife, or there will be someone suspected of being a witch."

"And that still goes on?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Old customs remain and in a place like this more so than on the mainland. Come along, I want you to meet some of the people. I want them to know that you are my honored guest."

We had come to a group of houses surrounded by fields. A man driving a cart was coming towards us. He touched his forelock and called out: "Good day to 'ee, Mr. Jago."

"Good day," responded Jago. "This is my ward, Miss Ellen Kellaway."

"Good day to 'ee, Miss," said the man.

"And a fine one, Jim, eh?"

"Aye, Master, 'tis indeed a fine one."

He passed on.

"All these people," said Jago, "are our tenants. Every bit of the land is Kellaway land owned by the family for the last six hundred years."

In the center of the houses was a shop, the window of which was crammed full of goods. It seemed to be a linen draper, hosier, tallow chandler, hardware man, grocer and baker all combined. I made up my mind that I would take an opportunity of visiting that shop as soon as possible.

From one house in the street came the cheerful sound of much merrymaking.

"I can guess what's happening here," said Jago, "because I know there's a new baby in the house. It's a christening party. They wouldn't like it if I passed by and didn't well-wish the baby. We'll dismount and join them for a moment." He shouted: "Boy! Come and hold the horses." And as if by magic a boy appeared.

"Take mine and the lady's," said Jago; and we dismounted and went into the house.

"Why 'tis the master," said a woman, dropping a curtsy.

We were in a small cottage in which several people were gathered, and there was hardly room for Jago and me—particularly Jago. It seemed like a doll's room when he stood in it.

" 'Tis honored we be," said the man who seemed likely to be the woman's husband.

"Where's the baby?" asked Jago.

"She be in her cradle, Mr. Jago. 'Twould be an honor if you'd bless the child like and take a piece of the cheeld's fuggan."

He would, he said, and I should too.

"And a glass of sloe gin, Master, to wash it down."

"I'll have it," said Jago.

The cake was cut, and both Jago and I had a piece and a glass of sloe gin, which burned my throat a little.

"Good luck to the child," said Jago.

"May she grow up to be a good servant to her master," said the baby's mother.

"Aye," said Jago, "so be it."

We came out into the street where the boy was patiently waiting with our horses. We mounted them and drove on through the cluster of houses.

"You'd find most of the houses similar," Jago told me. "They're what are known as Lives Cottages. They were put up in a night and therefore the owners have a right to live in them for a number of lives. For instance if a man builds it, it is his for his lifetime, that of his son and his grandson. Then the cottage reverts to the landowner. On the mainland there are Moonlight Cottages which have been built in a night but remain the property of the builder for evermore. The only condition is that they must be started after dark and finished before dawn."

"Can anyone build a cottage in that time?"

"If they are fully prepared and have their materials ready they can have the four walls standing and the roof on. That is all that need be. How did you like the cheeld's fuggan?"

"A little too yellow."

"Oh, that's the saffron—a great delicacy here. Don't let anyone hear you say you don't like it."

I had learned a great deal about the Island that morning. It was a community of fishermen mainly, although there was some agriculture. There were many little coves where boats were moored and we passed fishermen mending their nets as they sat among the lobster pots. They all called a respectful greeting to Jago and I felt a certain pleasure in their respect for him.

He told me that there was a fair once a month when traders came from the mainland. That was if the weather permitted. Then the islanders shopped and stocked up until the fair's next visit. Goods of all kinds and description were sold at the fair. It was an event much looked forward to.

He then began to tell me of other customs. "Fishermen don't like to land with their catch until daybreak. They think the Little People might carry them off if they did. There is a great fear of the Little People or the Piskies, who are said to have very special powers, not always kindly."

He went on to talk of their superstitions.

"When people are engaged in a hazardous way of life they become superstitious. When fishermen are at sea they never mention rabbits or hares or any wild animals. It's unlucky. If they meet a minister of the church as they are setting out in their boats they would turn back."

"How did such superstitions start? I wonder."

"It may have been that someone met a parson on the way to the boats and didn't return; and perhaps it happened a second time. That's all that would be needed with such people. And once a superstition is born it seems to live forever. In the old days these islands were also a sanctuary for those who wanted to evade the law. We here were a law unto ourselves. Many an outlaw settled here; some found political asylum and became subjects of the ruling Kellaway. You see, it's an interesting history this of our Island and we Kellaways have something to be proud of."

"And the line is unbroken all through the ages?"

"Yes. If a female inherited she was in duty bound to marry and her husband would then take the name of Kellaway."

"It's been a wonderful morning," I said, "edifying too. I feel I've learned so much and it's made me want to learn more and more."

He turned to me and laid his hand on my arm. "I want you to stay here, Ellen," he said. "I can't tell you how much I want you to stay. When I saw you in London it was the Devil's own job not to snatch you up and insist that you come down and get to know your family before you rushed into marriage. I can't tell you how much restraint I put upon myself."

"I still can't understand why you came like that. Why didn't you tell me who you were?"

"It was the whim of a moment. You were so immersed in the prospect of marriage... and then, when it fell through, I felt my chance had come. I wanted you to come here freely, because you wanted to. It's difficult to explain. Suffice it that I'm happy you are here."

I was touched by the emotion in his voice. I was finding his company stimulating. He had intrigued me from the moment I had met him at the recital; he had frightened me in the house in Finlay Square; but that morning on the Island I decided he was the most fascinating man I had ever met.

He seemed to make a great effort to curb his emotions. "Alas," he said, "we must now return to the castle. There is so much I want to show you, but perhaps you have had enough for today. Get Gwennol to show you round the castle but don't listen to too many stories about the ghosts."

"Are there ghosts then?"

"It would be strange if in six hundred years we hadn't managed to collect a few. Most of them are in the dungeons. There have been one or two over the centuries who have tried to wrest our heritage from us, for to rule an island is the irresistible longing of some men. I can understand it, can't you? It's a little world in itself, a little kingdom. Perhaps you begin to feel that, Ellen. Do you?"

"I certainly thought you must be rather proud when they show you such obvious respect, as they did this morning."

"Oh, they daren't do aught else." He laughed. "I will say, though, that since I've been in control we've prospered. Crops have been, good. You might say that's in the hands of God. But it is a fact that it's in the hands of Jago Kellaway as well. I've introduced modern farming methods; I've discovered good ways of marketing. There is so much one can do with foresight on an island like this. Your father and I didn't always see eye to eye with one another, Ellen."

"Oh?" I said, wanting him to go on. Anything he could tell me about my father was of the utmost interest to me.

"He was ill for a long time before he died. That left the reins in my hands."

"And it was then that things began to improve?"

"People on the Island will tell you so. There! Now you're not so happy. Don't talk about the past, Ellen. You're here. Let's go on from there."

He smiled at me and I fancied I saw in his eyes that which faintly alarmed me. But I was in a happy mood as we rode into the stables. It had been an exciting and stimulating morning.

It was afternoon. We had had a luncheon of cold meats and salad, Jenifry, Jago and I. Gwennol had gone to the mainland. "She often gets one of the men to row her over on calm days like this," Jenifry explained.

She asked how I had enjoyed the morning and where we had been. She was very pleasant and I felt I had been overfanciful about the image I had seen in the mirror on the previous night.

Jago had to leave on some estate business and Jenifry told me she rested in the afternoons, so I said I would take a stroll round the castle alone. I should enjoy discovering things for myself.

It was about half past two when I set out—a beautiful September afternoon with the sun picking out pearly tints in the water. I passed between the battlemented bastions to a courtyard and before me was a Gothic arch and two stone steps considerably worn in the middle by thousands of footsteps. I should never cease to marvel at the countless people who must have trodden the castle steps to wear down the stone as it obviously was, and to wonder about their lives. I was in another courtyard which looked familiar and then I heard the cooing of the pigeons and recognized this as the spot I had visited on the previous evening.