It was indeed eerie in this place. I looked at the sarcophagi on the side galleries and thought of the dead-Rudolph among them. If he could but come alive and tell me the truth of what happened, I would be ready to face anything for that.

I sat on the steps and stared ahead of me. "Oh, Rudolph ..." I murmured to myself, "come to me now, I won't be afraid. I want so much to know... ."

And then suddenly ... I was aware of a presence ... close to me. I fancied I heard the sound of suppressed laughter.

I turned sharply and the silence was broken by Freya's merriment. She had quietly opened the door and was standing behind me.

"Were you frightened?" she asked.

"When you foolishly locked me in, shall we say I was very surprised."

"Why?"

"That you could do something so—"

"Childish?"

"No. That would have been forgivable."

"Are you angry then? Aren't you going to forgive me? Will you go away?"

I turned to her and said, "Freya, some people might have been very frightened indeed to be locked in such a place."

"You wouldn't."

"How did you know?"

"You are not frightened of anything."

"Good heavens! Have I given you that impression?"

She nodded.

"It was cruel of you," I continued. "You should never do a thing like that to anybody."

"I know. I got frightened as soon as I'd done it. I thought your hair would turn white in a minute. Some people's do when they're frightened. I thought you might die of shock. Then I told myself you'd be all right. Then I got frightened that you would be so angry that you would go away. So I opened the door ... and there you were just sitting there talking to yourself."

"Give me the key," I said. "Did you take it out of my pocket?"

She nodded.

"It was all rather silly," I commented.

"It wasn't in a way," she argued, "because it shows me that you really are very brave and just as I thought you were. You didn't scream or shout. You just sat there and waited because you knew I would be sorry almost at once."

I led her firmly out of the mausoleum and locked the door. As we made our way back to the schloss she said, "I know another grave. I'll show you if you like?"

"What grave?"

"It's rather a special one. It's a secret. I'll take you tomorrow. I do like you, Anne. I'm sorry I took the key and locked you in. But you were not frightened, were you? I don't think you ever would be. I think you've got special powers."

"Now please don't confuse me with your gods and heroes. I'm not one of them."

"What are you, Anne?"

"The long-suffering English governess."

It was a pleasant trait in Freya's character that she was really penitent about locking me into the mausoleum and tried very hard to make up for her conduct.

I dismissed it all as of little importance and pointed out that as she had so quickly repented we could forget it.

She was determined to please me, though, and only the next day suggested that we take a ride into the forest. We set out with two grooms riding behind us at a safe distance, and I was amazed to find that we were making our way towards the hunting lodge. We passed the cottage. None of the children was visible.

I said: "I have friends in that cottage."

"The lodge people?" she asked.

"Yes, I met them once. They have some charming children."

"Oh, they're the people who looked after the hunting lodge when it happened."

"Yes."

We fell into silence for a while, then she said, "We shall come to it in a minute."

And there it was, looking more imposing than ever. Freya had pulled up and, to my astonishment, dismounted.

"We are going in there?" I asked, and I hoped she did not notice the excitement in my voice.

She shook her head. "There's nothing in there," she told me. "Nobody goes there now. Well, would you want to? Where a murder had been committed?"

I shivered.

"You looked really scared, Anne." She was regarding me intently. "You look more frightened than you did in the mausoleum. Well, not exactly frightened ... but odd somehow."

"I assure you I'm not frightened."

"All right then. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"I told you. I promised to show you something."

My excitement was increasing. I felt that I was on the verge of a discovery, and that it should come through the Countess was amazing.

She called to the grooms, who were following at a discreet distance, "We are going to walk round the lodge. Stay there with the horses. Come on," she went on to me. "This way."

I followed her, wondering whether Arnulf, the twins or one of the other children were close by. But there was no sign of life anywhere.

She led me round to the back of the house, not pausing but going straight on until we came to a gate which opened out into a part of the forest which had been shut in with green palings. There was a gate made of the same palings and Freya went to this.

"Can you guess what's in here?" she asked. No.

"It's a grave." She opened the gate and we went through. There was a mound in the centre of the patch and on it someone had planted a rose-bush; the surrounding grass had been neatly cut.

I knelt and read the inscription on the plate, which was almost hidden by the rose-bush.

"Francine Ewell," I read. And there was the date of her death.

I was overcome with emotion. This was the last thing I had expected. I wanted to throw myself on that earth and weep for her, my dear, beautiful and beloved sister. Now she lay there under this earth. At least I had found her grave.

I was aware of Freya beside me. "That is ... the woman," she whispered.

I did not answer. I could not have spoken then.

"They must have buried her here ... near the lodge where she died," went on Freya.

I stood up and she continued: "That's what I wanted to show you. I thought you'd be interested ... because you are, aren't you. You like hearing about the murder." She was studying me intently. "Are you all right, Anne?"

"Yes, thank you. I'm quite all right."

"You look a bit odd."

"It's the light here ... all these trees. They make you look pale too."

"Well, that's what I wanted to show you. It's interesting, isn't it?

I agreed that it was.

I tried to appear normal, but I kept thinking of Francine's body being taken out of the lodge and buried close by.

As we rode home the thought struck me. Somebody tends her grave. Who would that be?

I longed to return there ... alone. That seemed impossible, for I could not absent myself long enough. Then I told Frau Strelitz that I should like half a day's freedom as I wished to visit Frau Schmidt with whom I had lodged before I came to the schloss.

"But of course, Fraulein," she said. "We don't want you to think of yourself as a prisoner. You must take free time often. You and the Countess have become almost like friends and it did not occur to me that you wished to go off alone."

It was not so easy with Freya. She could not understand why she could not come with me.

"It would be embarrassing for my friends. They are not accustomed to entertaining personages in their tiny cottage."

"I should not mind."

"That is not the point. They would."

"It's Herr Schmidt's wife, isn't it? He works for the Graf von Bindorf."

"So you know that."

"I like to know all about you, Anne." She laughed aloud. "Why, you looked scared for a moment. I believe you have a secret. Oh, have you ... ? Have you?"

"Now you are going off into your wild imaginings."

I turned the matter off as lightly as I could and I wondered if I deceived her. She was very astute.

However I did have my free afternoon and rode over to Daisy, who was delighted to see me and told me she had heard from Hans that I was making a great success at the post and that the Countess was spending a great deal of time with me.

"Well," she said, "it's natural. You was brought up at the Manor and I reckon a real English lady is as good as any foreign Countess."

"Don't let anyone hear you say that. I am sure they wouldn't agree."

"We'll keep it to ourselves," said Daisy with a wink. "Now let me get you a glass of wine. I've got some good wine cakes too. I keep them for Hans's friends when they drop in."

I sipped the wine and told her that I had seen Francine's grave.

She was startled.

"The strange thing is," I said, "that someone is looking after it."

"I wonder who that could be?"

"Daisy, it must be someone who knew her."

"It might not be. People do look after graves. It's a sort of respect for the dead."

"I want to go and look at it again."

"Why now?"

"It's an opportunity and they are not easy to get."

"I've heard what a fancy the Countess has taken to you. Poor little thing. Rushed into marriage. Rudolph was for her. All right. He's murdered so it's Sigmund instead."

"Rudolph could never have married her," I said firmly, "because he was married to Francine."

Daisy said nothing. She did not want to contradict me over a matter on which I felt so strongly. "I'll see you on the way back," she said.

I think she was rather disappointed that I did not stay with her, but she did understand my burning desire to have another look at the grave.

I rode off with all speed and in a short time had passed Gisela's cottage. I glimpsed the twins playing in the garden. They noticed me and called after me. I turned and waved and went on.

I came to the lodge, dismounted, tethered my horse to the mounting block and made my way round to the back of the house. I found the grave and went through the green paling gate. I knelt beside it and thought of Francine.

I wished that I had brought some flowers to put on her grave. Would that be foolish? Would someone notice? Would they say why does this strange Englishwoman visit the grave?

I shouldn't have come perhaps. I might already have betrayed my emotion to Freya. What if someone found me here?

I stood up. I felt as though eyes watched me, that someone was peering through the forest trees. I fancied I could hear whispering voices, but it was only the wind murmuring through the pine trees.

I must not be found here. I had been discovered at the hunting lodge by the children. If it were known that I had returned, what would they think? Surely they would begin to wonder at my apparent morbid interest in a crime which had been committed some time ago.

I hurried to my horse and rode away. When I came to the cottage Gisela was at the door, a young child in her arms. I gathered this was Max.

She called good-day to me. "How are you? Frau Schmidt was telling me about your post up at the Grand Schloss."

"Yes, I am enjoying it. The Countess is charming."

"And she is a good pupil?"

"Very good ... with her English."

"Have you been to the lodge?"

"I passed it." I hesitated, then I rushed on, "By the way, what is that little enclosure with the palings round it—at the back of the lodge?"

She looked puzzled for a moment and then she said, "Oh ... I think what you mean is a grave."

"It's a strange place for a grave."

"I suppose there were reasons."

"It looks as though someone looks after it ... a friend, I suppose, of the person buried there."

"Oh ... did you go and look?"

"I had dismounted so I went through the little gate. It seems to be well tended. I wonder who does it?"

"I tidy it up a bit now and then. It's so near the lodge and as I was seeing to that..."

"Who is buried there? Do you know?"

She hesitated and said: "It was the young woman in the shooting case."

"Strange that they should bury her there. Why not in an ordinary cemetery?"

"I heard it said they buried her quickly. They didn't want to make a ceremony of it. So few people come out here... . But I don't know. I'm guessing."

"Well," I said, "it was a long time ago."

"Yes, a long, long time ago."

I took my leave and rode thoughtfully back to Daisy's. I was disappointed. I had hoped to find someone who had tended her grave lovingly, someone who had known her in life. If there had been such a person he or she could have told me a good deal.