There were no more of those cozy little naps. I remembered that when we were young, after she had, as she said, “put us down to sleep for an hour,” she would doze as she rocked herself in the next room. When we were older, we had been sent to the nursery to “play nice and quiet” while she took her well-earned rest.

Now, there were more cups of tea instead of the rest, for they were something she could not do without in her present state.

Violetta said that the worst time of Nanny Crabtree’s day was that hour after lunch when she sat … awake … sipping her tea and going over that dreadful day when she had failed to be alert while her charge was in danger.

One of us liked to be with her at that time of day.

About a week after Tristan’s rescue, I was sitting with Nanny. I didn’t listen very intently to her conversation. She was rambling on about our childhood … usually of my rebellious ways, and how different my sister had been. I had heard it all before, and it usually amused me, for when Violetta was the recipient of these reminiscences, she did not come out of them quite so perfectly.

She said musingly: “I haven’t seen much of that Simone lately. What’s happened to her?”

“Oh, she’s around,” I said. “I saw her only yesterday.”

“She was one for a cup of tea. She’d come in when I was having one and say, in that funny way of hers, ‘Dutay,’ or something delicious. She said the tea I made tasted better than any she had ever tasted. Bit of flattery, if you ask me. But I must say, she liked her cup of tea.”

“I expect she’s busy on the estate. I know she comes sometimes to Tregarland’s on business. I suppose that’s when she looked in on you.”

“Well, Jermyn’s and Tregarland’s … they’re one and the same now. This home has brought them together more than ever. Well, I suppose your sister started it with that Jowan. Oh dear, I wish he’d come home.”

“So do we all, Nanny.”

“I look forward to that Simone popping in. Nice girl. Nice way with her. Of course, she’s a foreigner, but she can’t help that. And I reckon she’s really nice. Coming here like that with her brother. That took a bit of doing, I’d say. You wouldn’t get me out in one of them boats, I can tell you.”

“I hope that will never be necessary, Nanny,” I said.

There was a sound from the next room. We were both on our feet. Tristan was just waking up and smiled with satisfaction when he saw us. He knew he was safe. It would never happen to him again while we were hovering round him like guardian angels—myself, Violetta, Nanny. We would always make sure that we knew where he was every minute of the day and night.

Even Charley had made himself a guard, and Bert, of course, was his assistant. When Tristan was in the garden, if they were not at school, Charley and Bert would be watching him. Charley had assumed an almost conspiratorial air. He was delighted because Gordon had told him he had acted in a wise way in reporting the motorboat he had seen in the cove. It had been a great help and Gordon hinted that “very important personages” wanted to applaud him for his sagacity. Charley was overcome with pride and, since the kidnapping, which must have seemed to him like sensational fiction, he wanted to be part of the scene.

I think, too, that he felt he was part of the family; we were the only ones left to him; our tragedies were his and he wanted to stand beside us, fighting to overcome them.

Moreover, he was beginning to regard Gordon as a hero. He was never happier than when he was given some job about the estate.

Violetta noticed this.

“Poor Charley!” she said. “Poor Bert! This dreadful war has robbed them of their home … their parents … everything that was familiar to them.”

“And has given them Tregarland’s—and Gordon,” I answered. “Charley regards him as a sort of god. Gordon must be gratified. Who wouldn’t be, to be elevated to the heights of Olympus? But he pretends not to notice.”

“Which,” said Violetta, “is typical of Gordon.”

Simone had disappeared. I was not aware of this immediately. I did not see her very frequently. Sometimes I ran into her in one of the Poldowns, sometimes on the estate when I went over to work at the Priory; but it often happened that for days we did not meet.

Mrs. Penwear had reported that she had not seen her for several days. She had enjoyed Simone’s company.

“She be a very nice lady,” she said. “Always polite with that French way, which is rather nice in a young lady like Simone. She was fond of a chat and we’d often have a talk together. She’d tell me about the estate and I’d tell her about the folk round here. She never seemed to tire of listening. I didn’t know she hadn’t come home at first. Like as not, I’d be fast asleep when she come in. She was sometimes late. And then she’d be off again early in the morning. She always made her bed and tidied up before she went.”

But eventually Mrs. Penwear had begun to be alarmed.

“I talked to Daniel Killick. She was friendly with him. A nice young man. He hasn’t seen her either. Mr. Yeo sent someone to look for her, but there was no sign of her.”

The news spread. Simone was missing.

What could have happened to her? What was wrong with this place? Only a little while ago a child had been kidnapped—and now a young girl was missing.

There were the usual rumors. Someone had kidnapped her. Why? Who would pay ransom for her? It was different with little Tristan Tregarland and his rich family. People didn’t kidnap people who couldn’t bring in a handsome reward for their trouble. She had been murdered, it was said, and for a while suspicion fell on poor Daniel Killick—the most inoffensive of men—simply because he had been friendly with her.

There were no arrests—and no evidence of what had become of her.

It was Gordon who found the solution. One of the soldiers had been seen talking to her. This soldier had been slightly shell-shocked, which had resulted in a temporary loss of memory. He remembered suddenly that Simone had spoken to him.

She told him she had news that her brother was dangerously ill and she had to go to him at once. She had written notes to Mr. Yeo and Mrs. Penwear explaining that she was leaving without delay, and had asked the soldier to deliver them, but he had forgotten to do so. When he eventually found them in his pocket, his memory of the incident began to return and he took the notes to Mr. Yeo.

The mystery was solved.

She had left her things behind, but they would be collected later, for she had gone to her brother who was with the Free French contingent. She would come back when her brother was better.

Nanny Crabtree said: “At times like these, people will dream up all sorts of horrors. I am glad that poor girl is all right … and poor Dan Killick … well, the things people were saying about him! They’ll know better next time to wait a bit before they start taking away people’s characters, won’t they?”

But that was not the true story.

Gordon had been out all day and came back after dinner one evening. He did not want any food, but he came up to my room and asked me to bring Violetta along as he had something to say to us both which he thought we should know.

He looked grave.

“Let’s sit down,” he said.

Violetta sat on the bed. I was in the armchair and Gordon on the window seat.

“I have spoken to Captain Brent,” he said.

I felt my heart beat faster. I was missing James, now that the anxiety concerning Tristan no longer filled my mind.

“He thinks you should know, as you are to some extent involved. The Dubois have been arrested.”

“Arrested!” I cried.

“I think they will not bother us any more. They came here with the purpose of spying for the enemy.”

We stared at him in horror, and Gordon went on: “I know everything that is happening seems to have taken a wild turn at the moment, but this is war. We are fighting for our lives, and so is the other side. Anything, however seemingly implausible, however incongruous, has to be investigated. These people made a mistake when they came here. Simone is, of course, not Jacques’s sister. They came here because of his connection with you, which he thought would make him more acceptable. It meant he had to keep the name of Dubois. Our people knew that name. He had used it in Paris, and he had come under suspicion when one of our men was found murdered in a Paris street, not far from the house where Dubois was living.

“Georges Mansard!” I whispered.

Gordon nodded. “They discovered who he was and killed him.”

“It happened just before I left,” I cried.

“I know, and Germany was about to invade Western Europe. It was an opportune time. Jacques had been over here before the war … with a German artist.”

“I remember them,” said Violetta.

“They were sketching the coast. All very useful to an enemy who has plans for the invasion of the country, of course. And Dorabella, you became caught up in this intrigue.”

I felt limp with shame and horror.

“Briefly,” went on Gordon, “they came over, landing on the coast where you found them, which was what they intended. The woman who calls herself Simone Dubois is very clever and adaptable. This part of the country is very interesting to the enemy because of certain activities which you now know something about. They were hoping to get their hands on what was in that box about which you have heard so much. We not only foiled them on that, but caught them. Simone, of course, was involved in it. We have suspected her for some time, but wanted to get our hands on Jacques and others as well.”

“So Simone was actually involved in the kidnapping,” I said.

“Decidedly so. She made a habit of coming in to take tea with Nanny Crabtree. It was comparatively easy to slip a light sleeping draught into her cup. Nanny obviously did not think it unusual that she had come in that day since she had made a habit of calling; then, when Nanny was drowsy, Simone let in the woman who took Tristan down to the garden to see those fictitious dinosaurs. At least that seems a logical assumption.”

“It was diabolical!” cried Violetta.

“These people will stop at nothing. They are clever … ingenious. They make it all work out as simply as possible.”

“Nanny did not say that Simone was there on that day.”

“She didn’t think anything of it. Simone had often come in the last weeks. Well, it seems that was how it must have been done. The kidnappers thought they had got away with the box. Thanks to the perspicacity of Charley, we were waiting for them when they would have got away. We had the people immediately concerned in the plot. But not Simone. She was not with them on that occasion and, of course, there was no intention of her giving up the valuable work she was doing for our enemies. We had been watching Simone for some time, and we knew she could lead us to others.”

“Her brother?” I asked, and Gordon nodded.

“She has now been arrested … with her brother. We have what we wanted and I think we can congratulate ourselves.”

“To think that for so long we have been living in the midst of all this intrigue!” I said.

“There is more going on than any of us realize. Living in wartime is living with melodrama all about one. This is a triumph for our service here.”

“And is Captain Brent involved in all this?” I asked.

“Deeply. But he thought you should be told something, as you two have been involved in it too … particularly you, Dorabella, having been in Paris and lived with this spy, and even having met Georges Mansard. In due course I shall let it be known that Simone wants to be near her brother and that she has taken a job on a farm near him. We shall pretend to forward on her clothes and effects. Mrs. Penwear will pack them and I shall take them, letting everyone think that they are going to be sent on to her, just in case anyone should start rumors which must be suppressed. Gossip is rife. So, when Mrs. Penwear has packed Simone’s things, I shall tell everyone they have gone to her. No one must be aware of the purpose for which she was here. They must continue to think of her as the amusing French girl who so bravely left her country. And, if you hear anything to the contrary, you must come and tell me at once.”

“We understand,” said Violetta, looking at him with undoubted admiration. I must say, I felt the same.

Captain Brent came to visit the men as he had before. I met him in a passage in the Priory.