"It's very mysterious."
"Show me the spot where you found the ring."
"I can't remember ... quite. Grace, we must go back."
She laid a hand on my arm. "Angelet." Her grip was very firm and her eyes looked straight into mine. "You know something ... don't you?"
"What do you mean? Know what?"
"Something about this man. You remember. You had an accident. You were on the beach. You found the ring ..."
"It's so long ago. I don't remember."
"Angelet, I think you do remember. It wasn't like that, was it?"
I felt trapped and again there came that impulse which I had had with Gervaise, to talk and explain.
I heard myself saying: "No, it wasn't like that."
"You've always felt something about the pool, haven't you?"
"How did you know?"
"I've watched you. Something happens when it's mentioned. What is it about the pool? Did you know they would find him?"
"Yes," I cried. "I did know ... because ..."
She came closer; her eyes were glittering with curiosity; she kept a firm grip on my arm.
"Tell me about it. Tell me, Angelet. It will help you to tell."
I closed my eyes and saw it all. "We shouldn't have done it," I said. "We should have called people. Let them know that he was dead."
"Dead? Who?"
"That man. That murderer."
"You saw him?"
"Yes, I saw him. He was going to do to me what he had done to that other girl. Ben came in time ... and they fought. He fell and knocked his head on that bit of wall. You could not see it very much before it was excavated. It was just a sharp piece of flint sticking up in the grass. He cut his head on it. It killed him. Ben and I threw him into the pool."
She was staring at me. I hardly recognized her, her eyes were brilliant in her very pale face.
"And the ring?" she said.
"It was by the pool. I picked it up without thinking. I put it in the drawer. I didn't remember putting it there. I didn't think it was his ring. Then you said you liked it and I gave it to you."
"I see," said Grace slowly. "And all the time they were hunting for him you knew he was lying at the bottom of the pool."
I did not speak.
"I can see clearly how it happened," she said. "Who else knows? Have you told anyone?"
"Only Gervaise."
"Gervaise," she said slowly.
"Grace, do you think we were wrong?"
"I think you should not have tried to hide the body."
"I believe that to be so now. Then it seemed the best thing. We were afraid there would be trouble. We thought they would say we killed him ... and it was rather like what happened to my grandfather. You know, he killed a man who was attempting to assault a girl. It was called manslaughter and he was sent to Australia as a convict for seven years."
"That was a long time ago."
"Not so very long. Perhaps we were impulsive. We didn't know what would be best. He was dead and he would have been hanged anyway. We told ourselves that it was better for him to die the way he did."
"But it has been on your conscience, hasn't it? All these years?"
"It's something you never forget. I'm glad I've told you, Grace."
"Yes, I am, too."
As we rode home neither of us said very much. We were both thinking of the man who for all those years had lain at the bottom of St Branok Pool.
Grace went back to London. I missed her very much. I was beginning to feel restive. I felt as though I were lying in a great feather bed, overprotected. I think at times my parents forgot I was no longer a child. I was sinking deeper and deeper into a sort of limbo where everyone contrived to stop anything ever happening to me in case it should be harmful. They forgot I had been married; I had traveled to Australia and lived a very unconventional life there. I found it hard to settle down to the quiet life of an English country gentlewoman in a remote corner of England—even though it was the home of my childhood.
My mother knew how I was feeling. I was sure that there were long consultations between her and my father. There were several dinner parties to which young men were invited—or rather they were not very young and most of them I had known since childhood. I knew what they were trying to do. They felt I should marry again and they were trying to find a suitable husband for me.
I did imply that I did not want a husband, and if I did I should prefer to find my own; they knew I saw through their little ruses. Their great desire was for my happiness, but I felt restricted, shut in, with too much loving care. I wished I could have told them about Ben and my feelings for him. But there seemed no one to whom I could talk of that.
One day Mrs. Pencarron came over to tea. She liked to visit us and did so fairly frequently. Then, of course, we were invited to dinner parties at Pencarron Manor and they came to us at Cador.
Morwenna and the Pencarrons were in the conspiracy which was to find a husband for Angelet. I was half amused, half impatient with them.
On this occasion Mrs. Pencarron had news.
Sitting in the drawing room, slowly stirring her tea, she said, "We've been talking ... Josiah and I ... It's about Justin."
"Oh?" said my mother.
I was alert. I thought: What has he been doing? I had visions of a card table in the Pencarron drawing room. They never played cards by the way. But I imagined Justin, red-faced and guilty with the ace of hearts up his sleeve.
"He's a very good young man ... very clever," said Mrs. Pencarron. "We're so grateful to him. He's made our Morwenna so happy."
"She is certainly that," agreed my mother.
"He truly loves her and he adores young Pedrek."
"Well, Pedrek is a charming little fellow. Our Rebecca dotes on him and she has very good taste."
Mrs. Pencarron smiled. "I was all against it at the first. So was Josiah really. But he said we mustn't be selfish and he's right really. For a long time ... before Morwenna's marriage ... he said we ought to have an office in London. From the point of view of business it would be a good thing ... marketing and export and things like that ... which Jos says is too much to be done down here. So he's thinking of opening up this office and putting Justin in charge of it. He's told Justin ... in a vague sort of way. You see, they could go to London ... after all, though it is a long way from here ... there's the railways and everything. And Justin says how they could come down here often and perhaps we could have little Pedrek here from time to time, for they'd be very busy in London and the country air would be good for him. It's going to be a bit of a wrench. But it'll be good for business ... and now there's someone in the family who could take on this office."
"I see," said my mother. "We shall miss Morwenna, shan't we, Angelet?"
She was looking at me intently; and after Mrs. Pencarron left she said: "I believe you are envying Morwenna ... going to London."
"Justin will be pleased," I said.
My mother made no other comment on that occasion, but I knew she and my father had many discussions, and I began to guess what was in their minds.
At length it came. "Angelet, I think you would like to go to London. You must find it a little dull here."
"Of course not. It's just that ..."
"I know." She was thinking of Gervaise. "It was a tragic thing that happened to you, darling. And you so newly married. It has been a great worry to us. But you know your father and I want the best for you and we have both come to the conclusion that if you felt you would like a little stay in London we wouldn't want you to think about leaving us. You have the house there. There are Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis and Helen and Matthew ... Well, the family."
I felt my spirits lift a little. It would be a change and there was always an element of excitement in that.