"You can see how it happened," she went on. "They were lovers. Cougabel probably knew she was with child on the night of the dance. The scheming little creature! Really, one has to admire her. She is bright, that girl. Luke Carter was a shrewd fellow and I think he has passed on some of his attributes to his daughter. It is miraculous the way she has turned this situation to advantage."

So we laughed at Cougabel's deception and, when Fooca came to Cougaba and offered to marry her daughter, we were all delighted.

So was Cougabel.

We were allowed to attend the marriage ceremony as she had lived in our house. She was kept all night in one of the huts with four selected unmarried girls—all virgins—who anointed her with coconut oil and braided her hair. Fooca was in another hut with four young men who tended him. Then in the late afternoon the ceremony was performed in the middle of the clearing. The girls brought Cougabel out of the hut and the young men brought Fooca. Cougaba stood there holding the baby, who was solemnly taken from her by two women and given to Cougabel. The bride and bridegroom held hands while Wandalo chanted something unintelligible to us and Cougabel and Fooca jumped over a palm log together. It was a log which was kept in Wandalo's hut and was said to have been thrown out of the Giant's crater years ago when he had all but destroyed the island. The log had endured as marriage should. It was symbolic.

After that there was feasting in the clearing and dancing, though not of the frenzied kind that took place on the night of the Dance of the Masks.

After we had watched the ceremony of jumping over the log, Philip and I wandered down to the shore. The singing at the wedding had begun and we could hear it in the distance. We sat down on the sandy beach and looked out over the sea. It was a beautiful scene. The palm leaves waved slightly in the balmy breeze which came across the water; the sun, which soon would set, had stained the clouds blood red. Behind us loomed the mighty Giant.

Philip said: "I never dreamed there was such a spot on earth." "Are you going to be content here?" I asked. "More than content," he said and, turning on his side, leaned on his elbow and looked at me.  "I  am so  glad," be went on, "that you and Laura were friends. Otherwise you would never have come to the property and we should not be here together like this. Think of that... ." I said: "I'm thinking of it."

"Oh, Suewellyn," he murmured, "what a tragedy that would have been!"

I laughed. I was so happy.

I heard myself saying: "What do you think of Cougabel?" The suspicion was still lingering, although I almost believed it was nonsense. I wanted to talk of it, though. I wanted to be assured.

"Oh, she's a minx," he said. "Do you know, I wouldn't be surprised if she leads that ... what's his name? Fooca? ... a dance."

"She is considered to be very attractive. These people are often beautiful but she stands out because she is different, you see. That touch of white ..."

"Ah yes, your father was telling me that her father was a man who used to be here."

"Yes. We were shocked when the baby was born. He is even lighter than Cougabel."

"It happens like that sometimes. The next baby may be quite black. Then perhaps she'll have another of a lighter color."

"Well, she has jumped over the log now."

"Good luck to her," said Philip. "Good luck to everyone on the island."

"It's your future now."

He took my hand and held it. "Yes," he said. "My future ... our future."

The sun was low on the horizon. We watched. It always seemed to disappear so quickly. It was like a great red ball dropping into the sea. It had gone. Darkness came quickly. There was no twilight, which I vaguely remembered only from my childhood in England.

Philip sprang up. He held out his hand to help me and I took it.

He put an arm round me as we walked to the house.

I could hear the singing of the wedding party, and I felt that all was well with the world.

A week passed. The ship was due at any time now. My father was looking forward to it. It was bringing the supplies he needed.

It would bring mail too. Not that we received much but Laura was a good correspondent and there was usually a letter to me from her.

I wondered how she was getting on with her love affair and whether she really would be married before I was. I was sure that Philip loved me and would ask me to marry him. I wondered why he hesitated. I had passed my seventeenth birthday but perhaps he still considered me too young. Perhaps I seemed younger than I actually was because I had lived so much of my life shut away from the world. However, although he made allusions to the future, he had not yet asked me to marry him.

That was the state of affairs when the ship arrived.

I woke up one morning and there she lay, white and gleaming, out in the bay. She was about a mile out, for the water round the island was too shallow for her to come closer.

There was the usual excitement but no more than usual and, looking back, I marveled once more that Fate gives one no warning when some great event is going to burst upon one and change one's whole life.

The ship's small boats were being lowered and the canoes were already paddling out to the ship. How they reveled in those days when the ship came in! The noise and babble were tremendous and we could hardly hear ourselves speak.

My parents and I were standing on the shore ready to receive the boats as they came in, when to our amazement we saw someone being helped out of one of the boats which came from the ship. It was a woman. She was climbing down the swinging ladder and being caught by two of the sailors. She settled herself down to be rowed ashore.

"Who on earth can this be?" said Anabel.

Our eyes were fixed on the boat as it came nearer. Now we could see her more clearly. She was young and she wore a big shady hat decorated with white daisies. It was a most elegant hat.

She had turned towards us. She had seen us. She lifted a hand in a rather regal manner, as though she knew who we were.

The boat was scraping the sand. One of the sailors had sprung out. He gave her his hand and she rose. She was about my height, which was fairly tall, and she was dressed in white clinging silk. I thought she was very attractive, and like someone I knew.

And suddenly it hit me. It was like looking into a mirror—a not quite true mirror—and seeing oneself reflected in a flattering way. The person she was like was myself.

The sailor had lifted her out of the boat. He carried her so that she might not get her feet wet.

She stood there looking at us, a smile on her face.

She said: "I'm Susannah."

I think we all felt that we were dreaming—all except Susannah. She was completely mistress of the situation.

My parents appeared to be stunned. Anabel kept looking at her as though she could not believe she was real.

She was aware of it. I came to believe that there was little Susannah was not aware of. And she found the situation very amusing.

"I had to come and see my father," she said. "As soon as I knew where to come I set out. And Anabel... I remember you. And who ..."

"Our daughter," said Anabel. "Suewellyn."

"Your daughter and ..." She was looking at her father.

"Yes," he said. "Our daughter Suewellyn."

Susannah nodded slowly, smiling. Then she looked straight at me. "We're sisters ... half sisters. Isn't it exciting? Fancy discovering you have a sister at my time of life!"

"I knew of your existence," I said.

"Oh, unfair advantage!" Her eyes remained on me. "We are alike, aren't we?" She pulled off her hat. Her hair was cut in a fringe over her forehead.

"We are sisters indeed," she went on. "And we could look more alike ... if we dressed similarly. Oh, this is thrilling. How glad I am I have found you at last!"

The sailors put her baggage on the sand beside Susannah.

"You've come to stay," said Anabel.

"For a visit. If you'll have me. I have come a long way."

"Let's go to the house," said Anabel. "There'll be lots to talk about."

Susannah went to my father and slipped her arm through his.

"Are you pleased I have come?" she asked.

"Of course."

"I am so glad. I remember you, you know ... and Anabel."

"Your mother ..." he began.

"She died ... about three years ago. It was pneumonia. Yes, there is a lot to tell you."

Several boys and girls had come to stare at the newcomer. My father shouted at them: "Come on. Give us a hand with these bags."

They giggled and came running, delighted to be included in the adventure.

And so we went into the house, our emotions in a turmoil.

Philip was already there. He came out when he heard us. When he saw Susannah he stopped and stared.

Anabel said: "This is my husband's daughter. She has come out from England to see us."

"This is most interesting," he said, advancing.

Susannah held out her hand. "How do you do?" she said.

"This is Dr. Halmer," my father announced. "Dr. Halmer, Susannah Mateland."

"And have you come to stay?" asked Philip.

"I am hoping to for a while. It is a long way to come for a day. I believe the ship sails tomorrow. I hope they will like me well enough not to send me back on it."

"You're rather like ..."

She turned and flashed her smile at me. "It's natural," she said. "We share a father."

We all went inside. Cougaba came out and behind her was Cougabel. She had obviously been visiting her mother and was carrying the baby whose appearance in the world had been too soon for our comfort.

"Cougaba," said Anabel, "our daughter has arrived from England. Can you see that a room is made ready for her?"

"Yes, yes, yes," said Cougaba. "Cougabel, you come give me hand."

Cougabel stood there smiling, holding the baby in her arms and looking from me to Philip until her eyes rested on Susannah.

"It's a pleasant house," said Susannah.

"It's improved a good deal since we came," replied my father.

"It must have been about eleven years ago. I remember I was seven when ... you went away."

"It is eleven years ago," said Anabel quietly. "You must be thirsty. Let me get you something to drink while Cougaba gets your room ready."

"Cougaba! Is that the baleful female who regarded me as though I were some devil escaped from the gates of hell?"

"Cougaba is the elder," I said.

"Oh, I meant the young one with the baby. They're servants, I suppose. I've wanted so long to find you. It was so sudden ... your disappearance."

My mother brought some lemonade to which she had added some of the herbs she had discovered; they gave a special and very delicious tang to the beverage, making it a pleasantly refreshing drink.

"We shall dine in an hour's time," said Anabel. "Are you hungry? Should I speed it up?"

Susannah said no. The drink was refreshing and an hour or so would suit her beautifully.

She looked rather roguishly at my father. "I expect you are wondering how I found you. Old Simons, who arranged all your affairs, died last year. His son Alain took over. I made Alain give away your secret. I haven't told anyone but I was determined to come and see you."

"How did Jessamy die?" asked Anabel.

"It was during the cold winter three years back. We were snowed up at the castle for several weeks. You know how the wind whistles down those corridors. It's the draftiest spot I've ever been in. Well, it was too much for my mother. Her chest always troubled her. Elizabeth Larkham—you remember Elizabeth Larkham?—she died a few months after of the same complaint. A lot of people suffered through that winter."

"And how was your mother when ..." began Anabel.

Susannah gave that rather secretive smile which I had already noticed. "When you went away?" she asked. "Oh, devastated! She was terribly ill. Another of her colds, which turned to bronchitis. She was too ill to think of anything but getting her breath. I heard her say that it saved her from dying of melancholy."

Anabel closed her eyes. Susannah was opening an old wound and turning the knife in it.

"However," she went on, "that's all in the past. Things are different at the castle now."

Cougabel came down to say that the room was ready. She had only had to make the bed, she said; and she looked at Susannah and continued: "Rooms always clean this house. Mamabel like it so."