At Menfrey stow I left the train. There were not more than a dozen people, and I huddled close to them as we passed the little barrier and lowered my head as I handed in my ticket. I was free. But what now?

I had to make my way to the sea and then walk about a mile along the cliff path. There would be few people out at this hour of the morning.

The little town of Menfrey stow was still sleeping. The winding, high street—which was almost all there was of it— was quite deserted; the curtains were drawn in most of the houses, and the few shops were bolted and barred. I smelt the sea and struck out towards the harbor where the fishing boats were anchored: and as I passed the fish shed where the catch was sold I saw the nets spread out and the lobster pots, and in spite of my uncertainty I experienced a moment of happiness. I always felt as though I belonged here, although I did not. for my father had not rented the house until he became M.P. for Lansella and its district, and that could only have been some six years before. I stepped carefully over the iron rings to which the thick, salty ropes were attached; I told myself I was foolish to have come to the harbor. The fishermen were often about in the early morning, and if I were seen my presence would be reported at once.

I took one of the side alleys and came back into the high street; this time I darted up one of the steep, cobbled turnings, climbed for five minutes, and then I was up on the cliffs.

The beauty of the scene made me pause for a few seconds to admire it; there was the coast in all its glory and below me the beach with the blue-green water very gently caressing the gray sands; a mile or so along this coast was Menfreya Manor and facing it No Man’s Island, where no one lived.

I started to walk, thinking about Menfreya Manor and the Menfreys. Soon I should see the manor. I knew the exact spot in the twists and turns of the cliff path where it would be visible. And there it was, grand, imposing, a kind of Mecca in my pilgrimage; the home of the Menfreys, the family which had owned it through the ages. There had been Menfreys there when Bishop Trelawny had been sent to the Tower; a Menfrey had supported the bishops and had gathered his retainers to join the twenty thousand Cornish-men who were going to know the reason why; I pictured Menfreys in feathered hats and lace-edged sleeves and breeches, with powdered hair and lace cravats; there were pictures of them in the gallery. I could think of nothing more exciting than being a Menfrey—though I knew I should be wiser to turn my thoughts to more practical matters.

I had reached the spot from where I could see the battlements. Gwennan had taken me up to the top of the tower on one of those occasions when Miss James had brought me over to tea. I could feel the thrill of looking down the steep gray wall to the cliff, down, down to the sea, and I could hear Gwennan’s voice: “If you want to die, all you have to do is jump straight down.” I had had a feeling that she might order me to do so hi that imperious Menfrey way and that, as they were so used to being obeyed, she might expect me to do it. They had been giving orders for many generations, whereas the Delvaneys had been doing so for only one. The steel business, which was so profitable, had been built up by my grandfather, who had begun as one of its humblest employees. Now, of course, Sir Edward Delvaney had forgotten all about his beginnings; he was polished, an educated man with a brilliant future; but although he was much cleverer than the Menfreys, I knew the difference.

I must be clever too. I must plan the next move. Gwennan often took an early morning ride and she came this way, for she had told me it was one of her favorite rides.

If I hid myself in a cave in the cliffs which we had discovered, I might see her. If not, I should have to make further plans. Perhaps it would be better to go to the stables and hide there. But I might meet some of the grooms; besides there were the dogs. No, I must take my chance and wait in the cave. If she were riding today she would most certainly come this way.

I waited for what seemed like hours, but I was lucky in the end. Gwennan came, and she came alone.

I called to her. She pulled up sharp and stopped.

When I told her, she was amused. It was she who thought of the island. It was an adventure which appealed to her. She had me at her mercy now and she was delighted.

“Come with me,” she said. “I know where to bide you,”

It was high tide so she rowed me over to the island, making me lie in the bottom of the boat for fear someone should see me.

“I shall see that you’re fed,” she told me. “And as no one else wants to live in the house, why shouldn’t you?”

That had happened the day before. Now here was Gwennan with the newspaper. I had not thought that my running away could be so important.

Gwennan said: “They were all talking about it at breakfast. Papa says that someone is going to demand a ransom for you. Thousands of pounds. Fancy being worth that!”

“My papa would never pay it He would be glad, really, to be rid of me.”

Gwennan nodded, conceding the possibility of this. “Still” she said wisely, “he mightn’t want the papers to know it, and so pay up.”

“But nobody’s asking. I’m not kidnaped.”

Gwennan was regarding me speculatively. “We’re in need of money, you know,” she said.

I laughed. “What! The Menfreys holding me to ransom. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It would,” sighed Gwennan, “if Sir Edward paid us the money. You know, we’re finding it bard to make ends meet That’s why this place has been furnished. Papa said he didn’t see why it shouldn’t be put to use. It’s been standing idle for years. So they painted it up a little, and they brought this furniture over. That was a year ago. We’ve been waiting for the first tenant And it’s you!”

“I’m not a real tenant I’m just hiding here.”

“Besides, you’re not paying rent Still, if there’s a ransom ...”

“There isn’t”

“No. But I’m not surprised you ran away. That hateful old Clarissa creature. I should have gone down and boxed her ears, if I’d been in your place.”

“You wouldn’t have been. You’re beautiful and no one could say those things about you.”

Gwennan slipped off the table on which she had been sitting and, uncovering one of the mirrors, studied her face. I limped over and we stood side by side, looking. She couldn’t help but be pleased with her reflection—round face, creamy skin, faintly freckled, tawny hair, tawny eyes and an en- i chanting little nose with wide nostrils which, I said, made j her look like a tiger.

“You always look as though you think people aren’t going to like you—that’s your trouble,” said Gwennan. ‘

“Well, why should I look any other way when they don’t?”

“It reminds them they don’t. They might forget it if you looked as if you didn’t know it Well, you’ll have to stay here. I’ll bring you food every day so you won’t starve. You’ll have to see how long you can hold out. How did you like spending a night on No Man’s?”

“Oh … it was all right.”

“Liar. You were scared.”

“Wouldn’t you have been?”

“Perhaps. It’s haunted, you know.”

“It isn’t” I said fiercely. It mustn’t be, and yet if it was, I didn’t want to hear about it; but on the other band, I couldn’t resist urging her to go on.

In any case Gwennan wasn’t going to spare me. “Oh yes, it is. Papa says there might be a tenant but for the whispers. People come and look at the house and then get to hear.”

She spent about an hour with me and when she went, promised to come back in the afternoon. She would have to be very careful not to arouse suspicions, for someone might wonder why she was suddenly interested in the island.

I should have been excited in her place; she had all the fun of it; I had all the difficulties.

I felt uneasy as twilight began to fall. I did not want to enter the house until I had to, so I sat leaning against the wall staring across the sea to Menfreya Manor … a comforting sight. There were lights in several of the windows. Bevil was probably there; I had wanted to ask Gwennan about him but I had refrained from doing so, for Gwennan had an uneasy habit of reading my thoughts and if she discovered that I was interested in her brother, she would be amused and not only tease me but exaggerate my interest.

It would soon be high tide and I watched the water slowly creeping nearer to the house. It came to within a few yards on this side, and on very high tides I had heard it reached the wall and flooded the kitchen. That was at certain times of the year, I believed, and it was not now. But the encroaching sea held less terror for me than the dark house.

Gwennan had brought me candles in the afternoon, and before it was quite dark I would go in and light a few. The more candles there were, the less uneasy I felt. Perhaps I would leave one burning in the bedroom all night; then, when I awoke startled, I would see where I was at once.

I had no watch so I did not know the time, but the sun had long disappeared and the first stars were beginning to show themselves. I watched them—one moment not there and the next there they were. I discovered the Plough and then looked for the other constellations which, I hod learned from Miss James, I could expect to find in the night sky. Fear was creeping closer, like the sea, like darkness. Perhaps if I went to bed and lay down I might sleep, for I had slept little for two nights.

I went into the house and hastily lighted the candles; then I carried one upstairs to the bedroom. I fancied the furniture leaped into place as I entered. I hastily looked about me and shut the door. Then, carrying my candle, I went cautiously to each grotesque hump and lifted the sheet, just to assure myself that it was only furniture beneath and that there was nothing hidden there but the pieces which had been brought over from Menfreya Manor to furnish the place for the hoped-for tenant I was foolish. The fear was within myself. If I could only drive it out of my mind, this would be merely a lonely house to me; I should lie on the bed and fall fast asleep.

I would try this; but I would leave the candle burning.

I lay on the bed as I had the previous night and closed my eyes, immediately opening them to see if I could catch something before it had time to hide. How foolish! Some people said you didn’t actually see ghosts, because seeing was a physical process and ghosts were not physical. You sensed them. And I sensed something in this house when darkness fell, I was sure.

I closed my eyes again and suddenly thought I was traveling on the train, and because I was so tired I slept.

I awoke terrified. The first thing I saw was the candle, and I knew that I had slept some time because of how much of it was burned. I sat up and looked about the room; it seemed as though the sheeted humps suddenly stood in the places they had occupied when I closed my eyes. I glanced at the window. It was still night Something had awakened me. A dream? A bad one, because I was trembling and my heart was bumping madly.

“Only a dream,” I said aloud. Then I was alert. Above the gentle murmur of the waves I heard a sound below. Voices … and then the creak of a door.

I leaped off the bed and stood staring at the door.

I was not alone on the island. I was not alone in the house.

Voices! Whispering voices! One deep, one of a higher pitch. I heard a sound that could have been a footstep.

“You’re imagining it” I whispered.

No. There was the creak of a stair, and the unmistakable sound of stealthy footsteps.

My heart was beating so loudly that it stopped my thinking. I was standing against the door listening. Those were undoubtedly footsteps on the stairs. Then I heard a voice, a female voice. “Let’s go. I don’t like it”

A low laugh—a man’s laugh.

One thing was certain. Whoever these were, they were no ghosts, and at any moment they would burst into the room. I ran to the dressing table and scrambled under the dust sheet. I had only just succeeded in biding myself when the door opened.

“Ah! Here we are!” said a voice I knew.

“A candle … a light, Mr. Bevil.” That was the woman.

“Whoever is in the house is hiding here,” said Bevil Menfrey.

He was pulling off the dust covers, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he reached the dressing table.

I looked up at him, and even at such a moment I thought how magnificent he looked in candlelight. He had become older since I last saw him. He was indeed a man. He looked enormously tall, and the candlelight threw a long shadow of him on the wall with the smaller figure of the woman cowering behind him.