Belinda wanted to know where I had been.

“I looked everywhere. I wanted to talk to you. I’ve written to Celeste. Mon pere thinks it would be best for us to have the wedding there.”

“Good Heavens! You’re just engaged and that was all fixed in a hurry because poor Bobby had to go back. He’s the one you’ll have to consult about the wedding.”

“Oh, he’ll want to have it just as I want it.”

“I think his opinion might be asked.”

“Well, it will be ... but after we’ve made the plans.”

“Just the same old Belinda,” I said. “Everything must fit in with you.”

“Of course,” she replied.

Jean Pascal expressed displeasure, too.

“What happened to you this afternoon, Lucie?” he asked.

“I rode out and met the Fitzgeralds.”

“That seems to be becoming a habit.”

“It is pleasant to meet one’s compatriots abroad.”

“I suppose so. But I missed you.”

I could not bear that look in his eyes. I thought about Madame Carleon. What would he say if he knew I had spent the afternoon with her? Moreover what would he say if he knew that she had told me of him? It was nothing I did not already guess, of course, but it was confirmation.

I must get away.

I wondered whether to consult Belinda. No, that would be useless. In any case she was too immersed in her own affairs. She did not want to leave yet. She must wait for Bobby’s return and the plans they would make. How long, I wondered, could I endure to stay in the chateau?

Then I thought of Rebecca. I had turned to her all my life when I was in difficulties.

I should have done so before.

I would write to her. I would explain that I had to get away quickly. I knew what Rebecca would do. She would come to France-Pedrek with her-and they would take me back to safety and Cornwall. On the other hand, could I travel alone? I decided to try Rebecca first. That night I wrote to her.

Dear Rebecca,

I have to get away from here. Belinda has become engaged and will not leave just yet. I could, I suppose, travel on my own, but I feel very uncertain. I should have to get the train to Paris and then from Paris to Calais and so on. Once I was on the Channel ferry I should be all right. It is the uncertainty of the language which daunts me.

Dear Rebecca, I need to come home at once. Do help me. If you could come out ... or Pedrek... perhaps both of you ... I know I am asking a lot, but I have always known that you were there to help me, and I feel very shaken in view of everything that has happened. I have just heard the terrible news that Joel was killed. It seems too much. I feel weak and foolish, but I know you will understand. I so much want to come home ... to be with you.

Love from your sister,

Lucie

I felt better when I had written that letter. I thought of all Rebecca had been to me through my life and I knew she would not fail me now. It was a great comfort to have taken some action. I would post the letter tomorrow.

How long would it take to reach her, I wondered? But at least I had taken some action. I got into bed. I could not sleep; and suddenly I was alert, for I heard a faint noise outside my room. I sat up, startled. Someone was on the other side of the door. Silently I leaped out of bed. I went to the door. Slowly the handle turned. I stood leaning against the door. I could hear the sound of breathing on the other side. I knew who was there and I was trembling with fear. Belinda would have spoken sharply, demanding to be let in. Moreover it was late.

She would have come earlier.

I knew who was there. It was Jean Pascal, and he was trying to surprise me in my sleep.

I waited. I heard the frustrated sigh... and then the sound of retreating footsteps.

He had gone.

I leaned against the door, still shaking. I thought of him, angry and frustrated, beating the swan.

Had I not locked the door he would have been in the room. The thought of that filled me with horror.

I must get away. I could not stay here another night.

Tomorrow I must take action.

I had a sleepless night, but I grew calmer in the morning. If necessary I must make my way home. I could find out about trains. Anything was better than spending another night in this chateau. I had been lucky. He had not knocked and asked to come in. He had known what my response would have been. He had planned to come into my bedroom, catch me asleep, surprise me... and then what?

I was limp with horror at the images which my tortured mind conjured up.

I rose and unlocked the door, and in due course Therese came in with my petit dejeuner. I forced myself to eat it. I washed and dressed and put on my riding habit for an idea had come to me.

I was going to leave, and I could find out about the journey from the Fitzgeralds.

They traveled a great deal and would be the ones to advise me. I made my way down to the stables. The household was not yet awake. I saddled a horse and rode over to them.

They were just finishing breakfast when I arrived.

“Lucie!” cried Phillida. “This is a surprise!”

Roland stood up to greet me.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you ...”I began.

“Nonsense. We’re delighted to see you at any time.”

“Perhaps I am making too much of this ...” I stammered. “But ... er ... I want to get away from the chateau. I have to go at once.”

“What’s happened?” asked Phillida.

Roland held up a hand to silence her. “You will take the train to Paris,” he said.

“It’s a long journey. Then you will have to change trains... from Paris to Calais.

There you get to the docks for the Channel ferry. Did you say you wanted to go today?

I don’t think that would be possible. The train leaves for Paris at ten o’clock.

No... you couldn’t possibly do that.”

“I’ll go tomorrow then. I’ll have to have one night more ...”

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?” said Phillida.

“Let us get you some coffee,” said Roland, “and then you can tell us what you want to.”

“I don’t want any coffee, thanks.”

I looked at them steadily. They were good friends, I was sure. I decided to trust them.

I said, “Jean Pascal Bourdon has asked me to marry him.” Phillida could not hide her dismay and I guessed that Madame Carleon had been talking to them about Jean Pascal.

“You have not accepted him!” she cried in dismay.”

“No. I could never do that.”

I noticed they exchanged a glance and I fancied it was one of relief. I warmed toward them. They were my good friend seven though I had known them such a short time I could confide in them.

“In fact,” I went on, “he alarms me. I know the sort of man he is. I have known for a long time. He ruined Leah’s life so that she was persuaded to take part in something which was really wicked. She was Belinda’s mother. She was a good woman and would never have acted as she did if she had not been desperate... made so by him. But... this doesn’t concern us now. Leah is dead and things have worked out well for Belinda.”

I realized I was talking thus because I found it difficult to speak of Jean Pascal.

They seemed to understand.

“Well, you have refused him,” said Roland, “and I think you were very wise to do that. And now you feel that you do not want to stay under the same roof with him. That is clear enough.”

“Yes... but last night ... I locked my door, you see. I always have... right from the first. It seemed like some premonition. I had to do it. But ... he tried to get into my room last night and then I made up my mind that I had to get away. I have written to my sister... my best friend in the world now... and I have asked her to come here ... so that I could go back with her. But after last night I felt I couldn’t stay... and I haven’t even posted the letter yet.”

“So you are leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’ll manage somehow. I want you to tell me exactly how to do it. My French is not very adequate and... being on my own ...”

They exchanged glances.

“It’s just a suggestion,” said Roland.

“Go on, Roly!” cried Phillida. “I know what you’re going to say. And I don’t see why not. We were going anyway... next week.”

Roland said, “If we left tomorrow, you could travel with us.”

I could not restrain my joy and relief. I wanted to hug them both.

“You... you really would do that?” I murmured. “But... you were not going tomorrow.”

“Why should we not?”

“Oh, it’s so wonderfully good of you.”

“No it’s not,” said Phillida. “We’d enjoy the company. It will be great fun, won’t it, Roland? I’m ready to go home anyway.”

“There’ll have to be one more night in the chateau, I’m afraid,” said Roland.

“I’ll manage that. I’ll keep my door locked, and I shall tell them I am leaving tomorrow.

I’m sure there won’t be any trouble.”

“You could stay here perhaps,” suggested Phillida. “Or perhaps in Bordeaux?”

“I couldn’t very well do that. After all, I did not actually see him last night. It might have been just a fancy of mine. No, I shall feel quite safe ... if I can leave tomorrow.”

“Well, then, that’s settled,” said Roland. “Now let us plan as to how we will set about it.”

I could not believe it. I was sitting in the train which was carrying me to Paris.

Phillida sat beside me, Roland opposite. Phillida was clearly excited by what she called “our adventure,” while Roland smiled benignly at her, including me in the smile. I felt so fond of them. They had come to my aid when I most needed friends; and now I was on my way home; and I had no anxiety about the journey. Everything was taken care of. Yesterday had been difficult, and I had left the chateau under a cloud. I could not help feeling that I had behaved rather ungraciously in making such a hasty departure.

When I had ridden back after having made all the arrangements with the Fitzgeralds I found consternation in the chateau.

I had been missed. One of the servants had seen me on my way to the stables. I had left early in the morning without telling anyone where I was going. At the least it was most inconsiderate.

I could not explain to Jean Pascal that it was because he had attempted to get into my room the previous night.

Belinda cried, “What on earth made you go off like that?”

I replied, “I have to tell you that I shall be leaving tomorrow.”

Both she and Jean Pascal stared at me in amazement.

“Tomorrow?” echoed Jean Pascal.

“Why?” demanded Belinda.

“I think it is time I left, and as I did not care to travel back alone, I have arranged to go tomorrow with the Fitzgeralds who will be leaving then.”

“I don’t understand,” said Jean Pascal coldly.

“I have been thinking for some time that I should not continue to encroach on your hospitality indefinitely, and... when the opportunity came, I took it. So we have made arrangements to leave tomorrow on the ten o’clock train from Bordeaux.”

“But ... it is so sudden,” said Jean Pascal; but I could see by the expression in his eyes that he knew it was because he had attempted to come to my room the previous night. I could also see the smoldering anger in his eyes, and I thought again of how he had attacked the swan. I believed then that he would have liked to take a stick to me.

How glad I was... how grateful to my good friends, the Fitzgeralds. “I think it is very ill-mannered of you to make all these arrangements without telling,” said Belinda.

“I have only just discovered that the Fitzgeralds were going and I thought it would be a good idea to go with them.”

“We oughtn’t to allow it,” said Belinda, looking at her father.

“I’m afraid you can’t stop me,” I said sharply. I turned to Jean Pascal. “I hope you don’t think it ungracious of me. In view of the circumstances...”

He knew full well what I meant and was fast getting the better of his anger. He said coolly, “You must do what you want, of course. If you had told me, I would have made the arrangements for you. I would have escorted you back myself.”

“Oh, I could not have allowed that. You and Belinda want to “be here. You will have so much to do ... when Robert returns. But thank you all the same. Now I will go to my room and pack.”

“How will you get to Bordeaux tomorrow?”

“We have arranged for a carriage to pick me up and then the Fitzgeralds. It will then take us to Bordeaux.”