So he knew I had been there. He would know what I had heard.

I took it from him and hoped my hands would not visibly tremble.

I heard myself say: "The clasp is weak."

"Where do you think I found it?" he asked, his eyes still regarding me with that odd expression.

"Where?" I asked.

"You were wearing it at dinner. Just think where you have been since."

I looked into space, foolishly trying to give the impression that I was trying to remember.

"You must remember, Ellen," he said gently. "It was the dungeons. What on earth were you doing there?"

I laughed rather shakily and was aware of Gwennol's watching me intently.

"Oh, I often wander about the castle, don't I, Gwennol?" I said.

"You're certainly fascinated by it," she answered.

"It takes courage to go to the dungeons at night," commented Jago.

"I'm not afraid," I said, looking straight at him.

He put his hand over mine and gripped it hard.

"I have a good deal to say to you," he said. "Will you come into my sanctum."

"I'll join you shortly," I said.

"Don't be long."

I thought: I must act quickly and I've not time to think what I should do. I must have time. I must digest what I have heard. I must consider the implication and suppress my absurd romantic longings.

Instead of going to my room I ran down to the hall and out across the courtyard. Slack was at the dovecotes.

"You look proper scared, Miss Ellen," he said. "Have the time come?"

I thought of Philip in his room... shot. Jago had ordered that.

No, that was too wild. I couldn't believe it. I had to talk to him. I had to listen to what he had to say. But I had been listening to Jago for a long time and whenever I was with him I believed whatever he had to tell me. No. I must get away. I must consider everything calmly, coolly, and I could not do that when he was there.

Slack was saying: "Go to the room, Miss Ellen. I'll join 'ee there. Don't be afraid. It'll be as it was with Miss Silva."

Oh Slack, I thought. What are you saying? It will be as it was with Miss Silva who had gone off in a boat and the boat came back but not Miss Silva.

"Come quick, Miss Ellen," he said. "Maybe there's no time to lose."

He took my hand and we went into the castle. Slack picked up a candle as we came through the hall and lighted it.

"Hold this candle for me, Miss Ellen," he said. I took it from him and to my surprise he lifted the lid of the settle.

"Do you want me to hide there?" I cried in amazement.

He shook his head. "You see now, Miss Ellen. This ain't no ordinary old settle."

He leaned forward and to my astonishment he lifted the base, which came up like another lid. I could see down into darkness.

"Be careful, Miss Ellen. There be steps there. Do 'ee see 'em? Go down 'em... very careful-like. I'll follow 'ee. But do take good care."

I got into the settle and lowered myself down and sure enough my feet found the steps. I went down six of them. Slack handed me the candle and followed me, after shutting the lids of the settle. We were standing side by side in what appeared to be a dark cave.

"Where are we?" I asked fearfully.

"This be a great cave which do go right under the sea. 'Tis where I brought Miss Silva when she did fly away."

"What happened to her?"

"She did live happy ever after as she told me she would. It goes down deep. It goes down and down and up again. It comes out on Blue Rock."

"How did you know about it?"

"I knew from my mother. It's what they do call a natural cave, but the entrances was made in the old smuggling days. There was a lot of smuggling done here. 'Twas a hundred years ago and more. It weren't much used since then. My mother were the daughter of the innkeeper and she knew of it from her father, who knew of it from his. They used to store the liquor down here. 'Twere a good place for it. Ships could come from France to the Island and liquor would be unloaded and stored in this place until it were safe to bring it to the mainland."

"And when we get to Blue Rock, what then?"

"The artist will help us. He helped Miss Silva. He were very kind to Miss Silva, he had a real fancy for her. He helped her."

"So that was the way she went."

He nodded. "Her went away to live happy ever after."

"And the boat was washed up."

"That were a trick like. Her weren't in it. 'Twasn't till later on a dark calm night when she did cross."

"How do you know all this, Slack?"

"Well, I helped her, didn't I? Her talked to me, her did. Happy she were at the last. She were different from what her'd ever been before. She talked to me... like talking to herself, she thought it, but she liked me to be there. I was company, sort of. Her father had been cruel to her... terrible cruel... and she thought he'd laugh at her and try to stop her if he knew ... so she ran away with her own true love."

"What happened to her? Where did she go?"

"That I never heard on, Miss Ellen. Be careful. The ground be rough going."

Down we went, down a steep slope below the sea. It was damp and cold and we passed little pools of water; at times my feet sank into the sand and the surface changed to rocks. Fortunately Slack was surefooted and it was clear that he knew the way.

"Now," he said, "we are beginning to go up. It's a climb now. 'Tis no more than half a mile... the distance between Kellaway and Blue Rock."

I said: "What will Mr. Manton say when he sees us?"

"He'll be ready to help 'ee get to the mainland if that be what you want."

I did not want to leave the Island. I only wanted time to think. I wanted to talk to Jago, to demand an explanation. But not just yet. I wanted a day or two to think clearly about everything, to make an attempt to piece together the evidence I had gathered, to try to stand outside the enormity of those emotions which Jago aroused in me and assess the scene dispassionately. I wanted to discover how deeply involved I was with a man who was unscrupulous and might well be involved in the murder of Philip Carrington.

That was at the heart of the matter. I could understand his passion for the Island and his desire to possess it. To keep it he must either marry me or be rid of me. I wouldn't accept the fact that he didn't love me a little. He could not act as well as that. Perhaps in time he would love me even more than the Island, I promised myself, which showed how obsessed I was by the man, since I was so ready to compromise. But if he really were caught up in the murder of Philip... that must make a difference.

I was bemused and bewildered.

If he had hired an assassin to murder Philip what were his intentions towards me? What if he did not love me at all? What if I married him? I saw myself willing everything to him and then what would he do when he had no further use for me? What did I know of Jago? That I loved him. That was all. Is it possible to love a man whom one can suspect of murder? The answer seemed to thunder in my ears: "Yes, yes, yes."

But there was one thing he was unaware of. He thought Silva was dead and Slack talked of her living happy ever after. What did that mean? She must have married the lover of whom she wrote and eloped with him. On the Island they had believed she was dead because the boat had come back empty. But if she still lived then on my death she was the next in succession. Jago did not consider this because like everyone else he thought Silva dead.

Where was Silva?

If only I knew.

"Can 'ee hear the sea now?" That was Slack. "We be nearly there."

We had been climbing steadily uphill while my thoughts had run on and now I could hear the sea. I could feel the fresh air on my face.

"We'm through," said Slack, and we were pushing our way through bushes and now were right out in the open. The wind caught at my hair, which escaped from its pins and streamed down my back.

"There be the house, look," he said. "There be a light in the window."

He took my hand and dragged me forward. As he said, there stood the house. The door was open. Slack went through calling: "Mr. Manton. Mr. Manton. I be here with Miss Ellen."

There was no answer. We had stepped into a small hall and Slack pushed open a door and we entered a room.

I felt my senses reel. There it was... the red curtains tied with gold fringe, the open brick fireplace, the rocking chair, the gate-legged table and even the "Storm at Sea" hanging on the wall.

In every detail it was there—the room which had come to me so often in my dreams.

This was a nightmare. It couldn't be real. I had strayed into the dream somewhere. The dungeons, the terrible suspicions about Jago—they were all part of it. It was a new form of the dream. I should wake at any moment.

Slack was looking at me oddly.

"Slack," I stammered, "what is this room... ? What is this place?"

He did not seem to understand. He said soothingly: "You'll be all right here. Miss Silva were ..."

My eyes were fixed on the door. It was that door which had been the center of the dream. It was not the one through which I had come, for there were two doors in this room. The slow moving of that door which had never opened but behind which I had subconsciously known was the reason for my fear.

I saw the door handle slowly turn. I could not take my eyes from it. The door was beginning to open.

This was it—the moment in the dream when the terrible sense of doom had come over me. I was terrified of what the opening of the door would reveal.

. Thoughts flashed in and out of my mind as they do in moments such as that one. It could only have been a matter of a few seconds, but time had slowed down. The fear had come to me... just as in the dream, but this was not a dream. I was now face to face with the moment of revelation. The artist! I thought. What has he to do with my life? I scarcely know him. Why should I feel this terrible fear of him?

The door opened. A man was standing on the threshold of the room. It was not the artist though. It was Rollo.

I was trembling with terror, but it was only the dream. Amazement was taking over fear. Rollo! What could Rollo possibly be doing at Blue Rock?

"Ellen!" He smiled. "How good to see you here. How did you come?"

I stammered: "I... I had no idea. ... I thought... the artist lived here."

"He's gone to London for a few days. He lent me his place. You look scared out of your wits. Sit down. Let me get you a drink."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so bewildered. I can't think clearly."

"Come and sit down."

Slack was staring at Rollo. I heard him whisper: "Something terrible have happened to Miss Silva."

Rollo had led me to the table and made me sit down in the chair which I had seen so many times in my dreams.

I just could not believe I was awake and this was really happening.

"You must tell me everything, Ellen," said Rollo. "What happened at the castle? The boy brought you, I see."

"We came through a kind of cave."

Rollo poured something into a glass and said: "Drink this. It will steady you. I can see you've had a shock."

He put the glass into my hand but I couldn't drink anything. I set it down on the table.

I said: "There's a tunnel from here to the castle."

He did not express any surprise. "I was concerned about you," he said. "That's why I didn't want to leave the place. I felt that something was going on there and that you needed looking after. I couldn't get that affair of the boat out of my mind."

"You think someone was trying to murder me."

He nodded. "I'm sure of it," he said.

Not Jago, I thought. I won't believe it was Jago.

"I want to get away to the mainland," I said. "For a while at least."

"Of course. I'll row you over."

"I think I'll stay at the Polcrag Inn until I've thought all this over."

"It's clear, isn't it? You're the heiress to that Island, a prosperous community. It's real wealth. People will go to great lengths for the amount of money that represents, Ellen."

I laughed weakly. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I feel so bewildered ... so lost. Everything that has happened has been so strange. I... the Poor Relation to be so rich. I only recently discovered all this."