Captain Freeling talked to me and Aubrey was occupied with Mrs. Freeling. I heard scraps of their conversation as the Captain asked after my father and how he was liking being at the War Office after India. He said that he missed the army but he thought he would settle comfortably at home and the children had always been a worry. They would have had to be sent home to school sooner or later and that was always an anxiety and a disturbing experience for the children as I probably remembered.

While the Captain was talking I heard Mrs. Freeling say to Aubrey:

“Damien is in Venice.”

“My people live in Worcestershire,” the Captain was saying.

“We’re at the family home for the present. It’s a fine part of the country, really.”

I said I did not know it and he asked questions about the Palazzo Tonaletti and while I was describing that Mrs. Freeling looked at her watch and said they must go.

They shook hands and we parted.

As we walked back to the palazzo, Aubrey said: “It’s a small world.

Imagine meeting them. “

“I wonder why he resigned from the army.”

“Fancied some other way of life, no doubt.”

“People don’t usually.”

“There speaks the soldier’s daughter. There are some who might not find it such a glorious way of life.”

“I mean, I don’t think it is easy to resign. I’ll ask my father. I suppose we shall see them again.”

“Have to, I suppose. But they are going in a day or so.”

He sounded unenthusiastic, which pleased me.

“And so are we going very soon,” I said.

“Oh Aubrey, it has been so wonderful. Do you think anyone else ever had such a honeymoon?”

“Of course not,” he replied.

And we laughed and walked into the marble hall of our palazzo.

We did not speak of the Freelings after that. I fancied that Aubrey felt as I did, and that was that we could have done without the intrusion. The remark that we must meet before we left Venice was, I suspected, one of those vague statements which people make out of politeness rather than intention.

Two days after the encounter Aubrey asked me when I was going shopping for the gifts I intended to buy and why did I not do it that afternoon.

“I know you don’t really care to have me around while you’re doing it,” he said.

“So why don’t you go and spend as much time as you like in those little shops and I’ll wait for you. Oh … I know what I could do. I could look in at the Freelings’ place and perhaps spend an hour or so with them. I know you are not very keen on seeing them. And I suppose it is only common politeness … having met them here.”

I said I thought it was a good idea.

I spent several hours in the shops making my decision. There was so much to choose from. I bought a bracelet for. Amelia. It was gold, studded with lapis lazuli; and just as I was about to settle for a marble paperweight for my father, I saw some beautiful wall plates which I felt I had to buy. So I bought one with a picture of Raphael for Stephen and of Dante for my father. I was sure they would like them and they would remind me for ever of those magical days in Venice.

When I returned to the palazzo it was about six o’clock. Benedetto informed me that Aubrey was not yet home. I had a leisurely bath and lay on the bed reading for half an hour expecting Aubrey to return at any moment.

As time passed, and he still had not come, I began to be’ alarmed.

Benedetto came to ask me if I would have dinner served, and I said I would wait.

He smiled sympathetically. I knew he was thinking that we had had a lovers’ quarrel.

I began to be afraid. I thought of those dark alleys; memories came back to me of the man I had seen lying with blood on his clothes . dragged out of the canal. I had not heard the end of that story. Who had he been? A tourist who had been set upon by robbers or was his death the result of some long-standing vendetta?

I sat on the veranda. I went back to my room and paced up and down.

Aubrey had gone to the Freelings. I had not heard the name of their hotel. Mrs. Freeling must have told him but he had not mentioned it to me.

I felt inadequate. Here I was in a foreign country, not speaking the language, and I could not think how I should act. Surely Aubrey would not stay away so long unless something awful had happened. Suppose the Freelings had invited him to dine with them. Surely they would have asked me to join them or perhaps sent word to me that he was with them. No. It could not be that. Something must have happened to him.

What should I do? Go round the hotels? Go to the British Consul? Where was that? Call a gondola and ask to be taken to the Embassy? Was I making a fuss? There had been times when Aubrey had made me feel a little naive. Was I? Would he come in and say: “The Freelings asked me to stay. I knew you’d be safe here.” Was that the way in which worldly husbands and wives behaved?

He would know how I was feeling. He would never worry me like this.

I must do something.

I went down to the servants’ quarters. I could hear their voices. They were chattering as they normally did. They apparently did not think Aubrey’s absence was unusual. I went back to my bedroom and stood on the veranda looking out at the darkening water.

He must come back. There must be news of him. How could I go through the night like this? I could hear the bronze figures striking on the bell in the Clock Tower. I must go and get help. I would find Benedetto and ask him to accompany me. We must find the Embassy and report Aubrey’s disappearance.

But I remained standing on the veranda. Gondolas slipped by. I prayed for one of them to stop and for Aubrey to get out and come running to tell me what had happened.

Just as I was feeling I could endure it no longer and that I must go out in search of him without delay a gondola stopped at the palazzo. A man got out. He was very tall. He stood with his back to me; he was wearing a black cloak and a black hat.

Then both he and the gondolier were helping someone to alight.

I stared. It was Aubrey.

I gripped the rail of the veranda. I could not see the stranger’s face because his hat hid it; and as I stood there as though petrified, for a moment floods of relief swept over me. Aubrey was safe.

I turned and ran out of the room to the stairs. He was coming up and he was alone. The man in black was no longer there.

“Aubrey,” I cried.

“Susanna … Oh, my dearest Susanna.”

I ran to him and was caught in his arms. He looked strange; his cravat was twisted, there was an almost wild look in his eyes and his hands were shaking.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Let me get in … I’ll explain.”

I put my arm through his and unsteadily we went upstairs.

“Did someone attack you?” I asked.

He nodded, but he was clearly too weak to talk. He wanted to get to our room. When we reached it he sank into a chair, i “I’ll get you some brandy,” I said.

“Or whatever you would’ like.” ‘s He shook his head.

“Oh, Susanna, I’m sorry … so sorry this happened.

Were you worried? ”

“Desperately^ I did not know what to do.” j “Oh my dear. That was my great anxiety. What would yo be thinking .. what would you be doing?”

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

“Dazed. Shaken a bit. No bones broken.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He nodded.

“I went to the Freelings. I left about six. I wanted to be home before you returned. I took a short cut through one of those alleys. It was a silly thing to do.”

“Oh no! I could not get the thought of that man lying by the canal out of my mind … the blood on his clothes …”

“Two men approached me. I did not like the look of them. I turned to retrace my steps, but there were two more behind me. I was hit on the head and I just passed out.”

“Oh my dear Aubrey, how terrible! I should have made enquiries. I should have gone to the Embassy.”

“It -wouldn’t have done any good. When I came to … I don’t know how long after, I was alone … in some sort of hut. It was dark and I could see very little. But when my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness I explored a bit. I found a door. It was locked on the outside. I felt weak. I could scarcely stand. I shouted. But it seemed as if no one came that way.”

“They had robbed you, I suppose.”

“They took my purse. That was what they wanted.”

“But why did they lock you up?”

“Perhaps they didn’t want the alarm given too soon.”

“Oh … the wickedness!”

He nodded and, taking my hand, kissed it.

“There was a man with you … in the gondola,” I said.

“Yes. He brought me home. What I should have done without him I can’t imagine. I should still be in that hut.”

“I didn’t know what to do. I felt so foolish … so inadequate … so helpless. I should have made Benedetto go with me to find someone to help.”

“You did the best thing by waiting. I don’t know what I should have felt like if I had come back and found you gone.”

“What about this man?”

“While I was trying to find a means of getting out I heard footsteps.

I called out. Someone answered. Fortunately it was an Englishman and I was able to explain. He said he would go and get help. But he found a window in the place. He broke it and came in. Then he got me out. “

“And brought you back. He should have stayed so that I could have thanked him.”

“He didn’t want thanks. He was glad to help a fellow countryman in difficulties.”

“I have been afraid something like this would happen ever since I saw that man they brought out of the canal.”

“Some of the people here are so poor they would murder for a few lire.”

“Oh, Aubrey, I want to go home. I don’t want to be here any more.”

“You’re forgetting what a wonderful time we have had.”

“But this … this has spoilt everything.”

“No, my dearest, nothing can spoil what we have already had.”

He put his arm round me and I said: “I am going to get you some brandy. I am sure you need it.”

“All right. Then we’ll drink together.”

We sat talking of the night’s events and the ordeal through which we had both passed. I had never felt so frustrated, so ashamed of myself for my ignorance and inability to cope with a situation. I kept saying, “But I did not know what to do.”

He soothed me. I could see that he was very tired.

I said: “I should like you to see a doctor in the morning. You don’t know what harm has been done.”

He shook his head.

“No, no. I’m just a little shaken. I shall be all right after a night’s sleep.”

“You are going to have that at once,” I said.

I helped him undress. I tucked him in as though he were a child. He shut his eyes and was asleep almost immediately.

I lay beside him going over the events of the evening: but finally I slept.

I was awakened suddenly. It was not yet light. One of the lamps had been lighted and it threw a dim glow over the room. A man was standing by the bed.

I sat up, startled.

It was Aubrey. But it was not the Aubrey I knew. There was something different about him. He advanced towards me.

“Aubrey … what’s happened?” I cried.

“Wake up, Susanna. It’s time you woke up.”

“But…”

He stripped back the bedclothes. He put his hands to my throat and at my nightdress. It was flimsy silk and I heard the sound of ripping cloth.

“What…” I cried.

“What… are you doing …?”

He laughed a horrible jeering sort of laugh which I had never heard from him before. His hands were bruising me. I thought I was dreaming but I knew I was not. The nightmare of the eve of my wedding had become a reality.

I caught at the remains of my nightdress and tried to cover my nakedness.

“No,” he said.

“No, Susanna.” His hand shook as he seized me.

“You’re growing up tonight. You have to learn … you have to learn all sorts of things. You’re a big girl now. You always were, of course .. but you are going to be especially big from now on … It’s goodbye to innocent Susanna.” His speech was so strange and there was an odd glazed look in his eyes. I struggled but he held me down. I thought he was drunk or he was mad. Something had happened to him.

I felt sickened. I did not know this man he had become. He was a stranger to me. I wanted to run away. Where to? Could I lock myself in one of the rooms . run to the servants for protection?