She would never have believed me.

It was always dark when I left Enderby. The candles in Sophie’s room had to be lighted at four o’clock at this time of the year. I always thought the room took on a special quality in candlelight. It had always been a room of haunting memories for me; and on these occasions when Jeanne called up through the speaking tube—as she did now and then—my heart used to race uncomfortably for I reminded myself that someone knew I had been here with Jonathan… I had been lulled into a sense of security about that because no one had ever hinted to me that he… or she… was in the secret. There was only that muffled voice coming over the tube, not recognizable as any one of my acquaintances. Even Jeanne’s voice with its distinctive accent sounded different through the tube.

Aunt Sophie was in one of her brooding moods.

She said that Dolly had been with her in the early part of the afternoon and she had felt very close to Alberic, and Dolly to her sister Evie.

“They’ll break through one of these days,” said Aunt Sophie. “I am so sorry for Dolly. She cared so much for her sister, and that grandmother of hers is very strange. She comes to me, poor child, and tells me her troubles.”

I said that it was comforting for them to be able to talk together.

“Life is unfair to some of us, and to others… everything comes. Take your mother, for instance.”

Poor Aunt Sophie! She was obsessed by my mother’s good fortune throughout life and compared it frequently with her own ill luck.

I was always rather relieved to get away.

As I came down to the hall, Jeanne appeared.

“I am glad I caught you,” she said. “I wanted you to look at some materials I have. They are really rather lovely. Mademoiselle does love a pretty gown and I want to keep her interested in them. It’s a great help to her.”

“I’d like to see them,” I told her.

“I’ve got them down here. I won’t keep you long. I know you like to get away sharp.”

“Oh, I’ve plenty of time.”

The materials were pale pink and Aunt Sophie’s favourite lilac; and there were a deeper purple and red.

I said I thought the paler colours suited Aunt Sophie better than the deep ones.

“I fully agree,” she said. “And this softer material lends itself better to the hoods. I want you to see some ribbons.”

I duly admired these and it must have been about fifteen minutes later when I left Jeanne.

I mounted my horse and started for home. I always took the same route, which meant going through a short bridle path where thick bushes grew on either side. This path was rarely used and as it was straight and narrow I always cantered through it.

Suddenly my horse drew up sharply and I almost fell out of the saddle.

“What is it, Queenie?” I asked.

I peered into the darkness. At first I could see nothing, but the mare refused to move.

I dismounted. The bushes were tall and the path shaded; there was no moon and thick clouds obscured the stars.

Then I saw that a man was lying across the path.

I stared. Someone had tied a thin rope across the path about a foot from the ground. It had been attached to the bushes and had obviously been put there as a trap.

I was dumbfounded. I heard a movement and then I saw the horse which was standing nearby.

It was clear what had happened. The unsuspecting horse had tripped over the rope and thrown the rider.

What a wicked thing to do! I went to the man lying there. His eyes were shut but he was still breathing.

I must get help at once, and in the quickest possible way.

My heart leaped with horror, for the man lying on the ground was Billy Grafter.

I stood looking down at him for what seemed a long time, but it could only have been a matter of seconds.

So he was here! It was true that people had seen him. They had believed it was his ghost but it was in fact Billy Grafter in the flesh. What was he doing here? He must have friends here. Who?

He looked very pale and there was a trickle of blood on his forehead. I must get help at once.

As I looked at him the thought struck me that he could not have been there very long. Five minutes perhaps. I had been late in leaving Enderby. If I had not been, should I have been the one who tripped over that rope?

The suspicion came to me. It had been meant for me.

I was shaken. Someone had wanted to kill me. Someone had planned an accident… for me… and Billy Grafter had come along and been the one who was caught.

What should I do?

I was midway between Eversleigh and Enderby. The best plan would be to go to Eversleigh. There were plenty of grooms. I would get Billy Grafter to Eversleigh and then send for Jonathan.

I rode as fast as I could. There was no one in the stables, but when I shouted several of them came running.

“There’s been an accident,” I cried. “It’s that man Billy Grafter who people thought was drowned. He’s on the bridle path midway between here and Enderby. Someone tied a rope about the bushes so that it was across the path and riders would trip in the dark. He’ll have to be brought here. You’ll need a stretcher.”

They gaped at me for a few seconds and then set about doing my bidding.

I went into the house. My mother was in the hall. She began: “What on earth has happened? You look as if you have seen a ghost.”

I said: “There’s been an accident. It’s Billy Grafter. There was a rope tied across the path. His horse must have tripped and thrown him.”

“My dear Claudine, what are you saying? Here. Sit down. You don’t look too well yourself. Tell me exactly what happened.”

I told her that I had been visiting Aunt Sophie and when I came back through the bridle path I had found Billy Grafter lying there because his horse had thrown him.

“Mischievous children,” said my mother.

I shook my head. “I’ve sent them to bring him in. They shouldn’t be long. We’ll have to look after him.”

I had not told her that I had seen Billy Grafter in London when I was with Jonathan. I knew that I had to be careful. I had become involved in those secrets which were part of the life of my stepfather and his son; and I knew that even my mother was excluded from some of them.

I wondered if I had been wise to mention Billy Grafter, but as I had already told myself, they would know him when he was brought in.

I was waiting with my mother when the men came back.

Billy Grafter was not with them.

They looked very strange, I thought, and they avoided my eyes.

I cried out: “What… Where?”

“Mrs. Frenshaw, Madam, we went there. We went to the path. We looked everywhere. There was nobody there.”

“Nobody! But I saw…”

“No, Mrs. Frenshaw, Madam… there was no one.”

“But his horse?”

“Nor horse. Nor man.”

“There was a rope round the bushes… across the path.”

They shook their heads. “We looked for a rope. There was nothing there.”

“But it’s impossible. He was lying there… unconscious. I saw him. The horse was there too. I left him because I wanted to get help as soon as possible.”

They shook their heads.

I knew they thought that I had been the victim of a hallucination. I had seen the ghost of Billy Grafter, for when they had gone to the spot there was no sign of him, no man, no horse, no rope. Nothing.

It was to be expected that such an event would be wildly commented on. It went through the servants’ hall and from there to every dwelling in the neighbourhood.

What Mrs. Frenshaw had seen was the ghost, it was said. He had come back to avenge his murderer… and the murderer of his friend, Alberic.

I knew there was one thing I had to do and that was get a message to Jonathan. He wanted Billy Grafter, and I, who had clearly seen him lying there, and who knew that he had not died with Alberic as people here believed, and that he was engaged in spying for those who wished harm to our country, was fully aware that Billy Grafter was close at hand. He must have friends who helped him. He could not have recovered in time to take himself and his horse away and at the same time remove the rope from the bushes. He had an accomplice and that accomplice could well be someone whom we knew.

I should have liked to set out for London but that was impossible. If only Dickon were at Eversleigh I could have left this to him. It was unfortunate that he had chosen this time to go to Clavering.

I wrote a letter to Jonathan telling him what had happened. I chose one of the grooms who had been with us since he was a boy. His grandfather had served the Eversleighs and I felt he could be trusted. He had to leave without anyone’s knowing, I told him. I would speak to his father and let him know that it was most urgent and secret business.

He was young enough for a secret mission to appeal to him, but I imagined he would think my motive in sending a letter to Jonathan might be a romantic one. But there was no time to worry about that now. I had to act promptly.

I said: “Leave immediately. Make the journey as quickly as you can. Mr. Jonathan will understand when he reads my letter, and make sure you give it to no one else.”

As I left the stables I ran into Millicent. I felt myself flush deeply. I was, after all, sending a letter in secret to her husband.

She said: “I saw that groom… what’s his name… Jake Somebody… dashing off somewhere… looking very important.” The manner in which she kept her eyes on me embarrassed me. She was suspicious. “I stopped him and asked why he was in such a hurry. He muttered something about having to do something for you.”

“Oh yes, of course,” I said, trying to speak lightly and wondering if she had overheard anything.

She went on: “That was a strange business about the ghost of the man Grafter.”

“Yes,” I answered cautiously, “very strange.”

“You seem to me the very last person to come face to face with a ghost. And you were so sure…”

“Yes, it was very strange.”

“I suppose you’re a believer now. You were rather sceptical before, weren’t you?”

“I would always be sceptical until I had the evidence of my own experience.”

She kept her eyes on my face and I thought: Was it you, Millicent, who tied the rope across the path? How much do you know about me and Jonathan? My memory flashed back to a scene in the bedroom. Had she not said: “I think I would kill anyone he was too fond of…”?

Millicent was a strange woman. She resembled her mother and I believed she would be capable of a great deal before which others would quail.

I felt myself turning cold with horror. Could I be in the presence of one who had tried, if not to kill me, to maim me for life? Did she know that it was in truth Billy Grafter who had been on the bridle path that day, because it was she who had laid the trap for me? Had she been watching in the bushes for me to fall? And if so, what did she know of Billy Grafter? And having made one attempt and failed, would she try again?

We came into the house together and I went to my room.

I was dreadfully uneasy and it was difficult to act normally. My mother, I had thought, was the only one in the house who would believe that I had actually seen Billy Grafter. I had to talk to her.

She was very upset. “If only Dickon were here,” she kept saying.

“Maman,” I said, “someone here… not far away, helped Billy Grafter to get away. Someone removed the rope from the bushes. That person must be looking after him. He was hurt, I know.”

“Who, Claudine, who?”

“I don’t know, but I have sent a message to Jonathan. He will come back with all speed when he receives it, I am sure.”

“Let’s hope he comes soon. That rope… why was it there?”

“I think… to catch me.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I must. It was the way I came… regularly. It was only by a fluke that I stopped to look at Jeanne’s materials and Billy Grafter got there first.”

“Oh, Claudine, I am afraid for you.”

“I’ll be all right. I’ve been warned now. And Jonathan will be home soon.”

“Shall I send for Dickon?”

“I think Jonathan will manage it. Wait and see what he has to say.”

“In the meantime… you must take the utmost care. I was thinking all last night of the things that have happened: those people coming to the house pretending to be Dickon’s friends; the kidnapping of Jessica; then returning her and… now this. What does it mean? Where is all this leading? Promise me you’ll take care.”