They talked together. Then the men mounted their horses and rode away.
I knew that Colum was coming up now so I left the window and sat on the bed.
In a few minutes he was in the room.
“What!” he cried. “Still up! What do you here? ’Tis time we were abed.”
I could not sleep well that night. I had bad dreams. I was not sure of what for in them events were jumbled, but Colum was there and so were the merchants and the pack-horses, and Melanie too … for my dream had shifted to the Red Room. Melanie was warning me: “Don’t be too curious. If you are, you could uncover something you would rather not know.”
In the morning we rode back to Castle Paling. It was a beautiful morning. There is nothing like sunlight for washing away the fears which come by night. They are exposed as nothing but vague shadows conjured up out of the darkness. I revelled in the green of the conifers and the call of the cuckoo, though he was beginning to stammer now. All was well. In six months’ time my child would be born and now I was going to my home where my son would be waiting for me.
It was August. I could no longer ride and the days seemed long and tedious. One night there was a violent storm and I awoke to find that Colum was hastily dressing.
I sat up in bed, and he told me to lie down and keep the curtains drawn. He was going out because he thought there might be a ship out there in distress.
I said should I not be up in case there was something I could do? He said no, he would forbid it. I had to think of the child I carried.
Nevertheless, I rose and went to look in at the room adjoining ours where Connell slept. He was a year old now. I thought the thunder and lightning might frighten him. Nothing of the sort. He shouted with delight as the flash lit up the room and he clearly thought the violent thunder was part of a game which had been devised for his benefit.
I laughed with him, glad that he was not frightened and because I did not wish him to see that I had expected him to be afraid I left him.
I went back to my bed and drew the curtains around me, and I thought of that other night when there had been a storm and Colum had gone out to see what could be done.
He had told me that on dark nights he caused a lantern to be put in the turret rooms of the towers facing the sea as a warning to sailors that they were close to the Devil’s Teeth.
He said: “It has been the custom of our house to give this service. When sailors see the lights, if they know they are on the Cornish Coast, they will realize that they are near the Devil’s Teeth and keep away—so in the Nonna and Seaward Towers these lanterns shone on all dark nights.”
So I lay in bed and prayed that if any ship was being buffeted by the violent winds it would come safely through.
The storm died down and I slept. It was light when I awoke and Colum had awakened me by coming into the room.
His clothes were sodden with the rain and there was a hot colour in his cheeks.
“Was a ship in distress?”
He nodded. “She’s broken on the rocks.”
“She couldn’t have seen the lights in the tower.”
“She was blown on to the rocks. We did what we could.”
“You are soaked.” I rose and started to dress.
“There is nothing you can do,” he said. “It is over. You’ll see her when it’s thoroughly light. It’s a sorry sight.”
I did see her—poor sad vessel that had once been so proud. I could not stop myself looking at her and I thought of my father who had gone off on a trading expedition to the East Indies. Fennimore had gone with another ship and Carlos was captaining another. This could happen to any of them. It was terrible to contemplate the hazards of the sea.
As I stood by the window Colum came beside me and put an arm about me.
“Do not go out today,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Why must you always question?” he demanded with a touch of irritation. “Why cannot you obey me like a good wife?”
“But why should I not go out?”
“The ground is slippery. I’d never forgive you if aught happened to the child.”
That afternoon Colum went away for a day or two. I watched him go and then because the sun was shining and the sea was calm—only a slightly muddy colour to suggest last night’s trouble—I felt the urge to go out was irresistible.
I would walk with care but I must go out into the sunshine. I would not take the cliff path which could be treacherous but I would just walk in the precincts of the castle.
Thus I came to the cobbled courtyard before Ysella’s Tower. I looked up at it remembering the story and asking myself how it was possible for a man to keep two women in the same dwelling and one not know the other was there. “Preposterous!” I said aloud. But if they were meek women who obeyed without question the husband they shared, it might have been managed. No, I could not believe it. Although with the forceful Casvellyns perhaps anything was possible. Colum would like me to be as docile as Ysella and Nonna must have been.
Then I noticed the sand among the cobbles. There was a good deal of it. I wondered idly how it could have got there. Could it have been blown up in the storm? Impossible. It would have to come right over the top of the tower to get there. The only answer was that people who had been on the beach had been walking here. Strangely enough, I had been here the day before and not noticed it.
I was there on the stone step close to the iron-studded door, so whoever had brought it in had stood on that stone step.
As I stood there I saw a glittering object and stooping to pick it up I saw that it was an amulet. It glittered like gold.
I examined it. It was oval in shape, about an inch wide and two inches long. It was beautifully engraved and what was depicted fascinated me. It was the figure of a beautiful youth about whose head was a halo, and at his feet lay a horned goat; one of the youth’s feet was resting on the goat as though he had vanquished it. There was a name engraved on it in very small letters so that I could scarcely read it: I took it to my room and examined it and at last I made out the name to be VALDEZ. So it was Spanish. Someone must have dropped it. Someone who had been on the shore and brought the sand up on his boots.
I put the amulet in the drawer.
Colum returned two days later. I saw him riding towards the castle with the men and the pack-horses. They were unladen.
I went to the kitchen and ordered that the joints should be set on the spits immediately and that one of his favourite pies should be made without delay—squab perhaps as there was plenty of bacon and mutton and Colum had the Cornishman’s love of pastry.
We dined alone in the little room where we had our first meal together. Colum always wanted us to be there alone on occasions like this. It showed an unsuspected sentimentality.
I put on the diamond chain with the ruby locket and it was a very happy evening. It was when I put the chain and locket away that I opened it and looking at the space for a miniature inside it decided that I should like to have a picture of my son there after the custom.
I smiled, thinking of suggesting this to Colum and that he might be a little disappointed because I did not choose to have his picture. But would he ever allow himself to be painted? Then of course I might have other children and I should want pictures of them all. While I was thus idly thinking I was stroking the edge of the locket and to my amazement the layer in which was a space for a picture sprang up and I was looking into a woman’s face. She was beautiful, with clouds of dark hair, an olive skin and languorous dark eyes. So cleverly had it been painted that in spite of the fact that it was so small all this was apparent.
How strange that an unknown woman’s face should be depicted in a locket which was given to me by my husband. It could only mean that the locket had belonged to someone else before me.