The Song of the Siren (20 page)

144her sitting in the shelter of a cliff looking out to the Eyot.

I sat down beside her. “You are lucky, Carlotta,” I said. “You just have everything....”

She turned to look at me in amazement. “What has come over our little Damaris?” she asked. “She used to be such a contented little piece. Happy in her lot, ministering to the sick-animals mostly but not above taking a basket of goodies to the ailing of the districtgoodness and contentment shining from her little face.”

“You always made fun of me, Carlotta.”

“Perhaps it was because I could never be like you.”

“You ... like me! You’d never want to.”

“No,” she said. “You’re right there. What an adventure you had in the wicked city.

Robbed of your clothes and sent out naked. My poor Damaris!”

“Yes, it was terrifying. But I ran into the Pilkingtons and because of that Elizabeth Pilkington is at Grasslands. Carlotta, isn’t it strange how one thing that happens leads to something else which wouldn’t have happened otherwise?”

She nodded and was serious. I could see her thinking of that.

“You see, if I hadn’t gone out to buy violets .. .”

“I get the point,” she said. “No need to elaborate.”

“Well, it just struck me.”

“You like this woman, don’t you? I did when I showed her Enderby.”

“Why did you decide so suddenly not to sell?” I asked.

“Oh, I had my reasons. She has a son, has she?”

“Yes ... Matthew.” ‘

“You like him, don’t you?”

“How ... did you know?”

She laughed at me and gave me a friendly push. “That was the trouble, Damaris. I always know what you’re going to do. You’re predictable. It makes you ...”

“I know,” I said. “Dull.”

“Well, it is nice to meet a little mystery now and then. So Matthew was very gallant, wasn’t he?”

“He brought violets for our mother.”

She burst out laughing.

“Why do you laugh?” I asked.

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“Never mind,” she said. Then she stared out to sea and said: “You never know what is going to happen, do you? Right across the sea, that’s France over there.”

“Of course,” I said, a little nettled by her laughter “What’s odd about that? It’s always been there, hasn’t it?”

“Imagine it over there,” she said. “There’ll be a lot of excitement. The old King dying and now the new one.”

“There isn’t a new one. It’s a Queen we have.”

“They don’t think so over there.”

She hugged her knees, smiling secretly.

I was about to remark that she was in a strange mood But then Carlotta was often in a strange mood.

A few days later when I was riding I passed the same spot and there she was seated by the rock staring out to France.

147NIGHT IN THE FORBIDDEN WOOD

A year had gone by. I had passed my fourteenth birthday and was now rising fifteen.

The war was still going on. My uncles Edwin and Carl were abroad serving with Marlborough, who had now become a duke. But for the fact that they were engaged in the fighting we should have thought little of it for the war itself did not intrude on our lives.

It was Maytime, a lovely time of the year. After I had finished lessons with my governess, Mistress Leveret, I would exercise my horse, Tomtit; sometimes I would take him to the sea and ride along close to the water. He loved that and it was exhilarating to take deep breaths of air, which we all said was fresher on our coast than anywhere else. There was always a sharp tang in it which, having been brought up with it, we all loved.

Sometimes I rode deeper into the country. I liked to leave Tomtit to drink by a stream while I lay in the grass very quietly watching the rabbits come out to gambol and sometimes voles and baby field mice.

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I could watch the frogs and toads and the water beetles for hours. I loved the country sounds and the melodious song of the birds.

One day Tomtit cast a shoe and I took him along to the blacksmith. While he was being shod I went for a walk and that led me near Enderby Hall.

The place had a fascination for me as it had for most people. I rarely went in it.

My mother was always complaining that nothing was done about it; it was absurd to keep the place cleaned and aired for nobody she said. Carlotta must be made to see reason and get rid of it.

Close by the house was that land which my father had acquired when he bought the Dower House. He had never put it to use and was always going to do something about it but somehow never did. It was fenced in and he made it quite clear that he did not want it used as common ground. I guessed he must have had some plan for it.

I leaned against the fence and looked at the house. Dark and forbidding it seemed; but was that because of its reputation. And then suddenly I heard a sound. I listened.

I looked towards the house. But no, it was not coming from the house. It was somewhere behind me. It was beyond the fence. I listened again. There it was. A piteous whine.

Some animal in distress. I thought it sounded like a dog.

I was going to see. My father had put up such a strong fence around this land that it was not easy to scale it. There was a gate, though heavily padlocked, but it was possible to climb over this and I did so.

I stood there for a moment listening. The place was overgrown. I called it the Forbidden Wood because my father had stressed often that it was very private. I wondered afresh why he should have taken such pains to prevent people getting in and then do nothing about it.

Then I heard the sound again. It was definitely some animal in distress.

I went in the direction of the sound. Yes, I was getting nearer. Then I saw it. I had been right. It was a dog, a beautiful mastiff bitch-buff coloured with slightly darker ears and muzzle. I saw at once what had happened; one of her hind legs was caught in a trap.

She was looking at me with piteous eyes and I could see she was in considerable pain.

I had always had a way with animals. I think it was because I

149always talked to them and I had a special love for and understanding of them which they were quick to sense.

I knelt down. I saw exactly what had happened. Someone had set a trap to snare a hare or rabbit I guessed, and this beautiful dog had been caught in it.

I was running considerable risk, I knew. She might have bitten me, for the pain must have been intense, but I soothed her as I got to work, and as I had never been afraid of animals somehow they never seemed afraid of me.

In a few minutes I had seen how to release the trap. I did so and the dog was free.

I patted her head.

“Poor old lady,” I murmured. “It’s bad, I know.”

It was indeed bad. She could not stand up without intense pain.

I coaxed her along, murmuring still. I sensed that she trusted me. I knew something about broken limbs. I had set them before for other animals with some success. I promised myself I would have a try with this one.

The animal was in excellent condition and was obviously well cared for. Later I would have to set about finding the owner. In the meantime I would tend the wounded leg.

I took her back to the Dower House and to my room, and Miss Leveret, who passed me on the stairs, cried: “Oh, Damaris, not another of your sick animals!”

“This lovely creature has hurt her leg. She was caught in a trap. People should not be allowed to use such traps. They’re dangerous.”

“Well I’ve no doubt you will put it right.”

“I don’t think the leg is broken. That is what I feared at first.”

Mistress Leveret sighed. Like the rest of them, she thought I should be growing out of my absorption with animals.

I sent for hot water and bathed the leg. I found a very big basket which I had used for one of the bitches when she had puppies and I put the mastiff in it. I had a special ointment which was soothing and nonpoisonous. I had had it from one of the farmers who made it himself and swore by its healing properties.

The mastiff had ceased to whimper and was looking at me with her liquid eyes as though she was thanking me for easing her pain.

I gave her a bone which I found in the kitchens and there was quite

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a bit of good meat on it, and some water in one of my dogs’ dishes. She seemed contented and I left her sleeping in the basket and went down to supper.

Mistress Leveret, who took her meals with us, was telling my parents that I had brought another wounded stray into the household.

My mother smiled. “There is nothing unusual about that,” she said. We sat down at the table, and my father was talking about some of the cottages on his estate and the repairs which would have to be done, and we had almost finished when the talk came back to the dog I had saved.

“What had happened to this one?” asked my father smiling at me.

“His leg had been caught in a trap,” I explained.

“I don’t like traps,” said my mother. “They’re cruel.”

“They’re meant to kill at a stroke,” my father explained. “It’s unfortunate for an animal if he just gets trapped by a leg. The men like to get a hare or a rabbit for the pot, you know. They consider that a part of their wages. By the way, where was the trap?”

“It was on the closed-in land by Enderby,” I said.

I was astonished by the change in my father. His face turned red and then white.

“Where?” he cried.

“You know ... the fenced-in land which you’re always going to do something about and never do.”

“Who put a trap in there?” he demanded.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Someone who thought he’d trap a hare or a rabbit for the pot, I suppose.”

My father was a man who was rarely roused to anger but when he was angry he could be violently so.

He said: “I want to know who put that trap there.”

He spoke quietly but it was the quiet before the storm.

“Well, you said that they used traps as part of their wages.”

“Not on that land,” he said. “I gave express orders that no one was to go there.”

My mother looked frightened.

“I don’t suppose he’s done any harm, Leigh,” she said.

My father brought his fist down on the table. “Who ever put that trap there disobeyed my orders. I am going to find out who did it.”

151He stood up.

My mother said: “Not now, surely.”

But he had gone out. I heard him riding out of the stables.

I said: “He is in a great rage.”

My mother was silent.

“I hate those traps,” I said. “I’d like to stop them. But why is he so

angry?”

She did not answer. But I could see she was very shaken.

The next day there was terrible trouble. The owner of the trap was found. He was Jacob Rook. My father dismissed him. He was to take everything and go. My father would not have his orders ignored.

It was most distressing, for when the people on the land were dismissed they not only lost their work but their homes. Jacob and Mary Rook had lived for fifteen years on the Eversleigh estate in one of the small cottages which now belonged to my father.

They had a month to get out.

We were all very upset. Jacob was a good worker; Mary often helped in the house, and I hated to think my father could be so cruel.

It was terrible when Mary came to the house and cried; she kept clinging to my mother and begging her to let them stay. My mother was very unhappy; she said she would speak to my father.

I had never seen him like this before. I had not realised he could be so hard.

“Please,” I begged, “overlook it this once. He’ll never do it again.”

“I will be obeyed,” said my father. “I gave special orders and Jacob Rook deliberately disobeyed them.”

He was adamant and there was nothing we could do.

I blamed myself for saying where I had found the mastiff. I had not thought it would be so important.

In a day or so the bitch was healed enough for her to limp about. I fed her on the best I could get and it was clear that she had taken a fancy to me, but my joy in the adventure had gone because of the Rooks.

Two days after I had found the dog I was riding past Grasslands Manor when I saw Elizabeth Pilkington in the garden. She called to me. I have been meaning to send a messenger over to you. I wanted you to come and visit me. I have someone who very much wants to see you.”

152As she spoke Matthew Pilkington came out of the house.

He hurried over to me, took my hand and kissed it.

He looked very elegant but not so fancifully dressed as he had been in London. He wore high leather boots and knee-length jacket of dark blue frogged with black braid.

I thought he was even more handsome than when I had last seen him.

“How delightful to see you again,” he said. “You must come in, must she not, mother?”

Elizabeth Pilkington said that I must indeed do so.

I dismounted and went into the house.

I was tingling with pleasure at the sight of him. He seemed different from the young men of the neighbourhood whom I met from time to time. It was that air of immense sophistication which hung about him and which I had never noticed in other people.

I suppose it was due to his living so much of his life in London

He had been with the army overseas for a spell, he said, and then he had gone back to his estates in Dorset for a while. “One cannot neglect them for too long,” he added.

“You’ve grown up since we last met,” he commented.

Then his mother said: “Matthew has had one great unhappiness since he arrived here.

He has lost a favourite dog.”

I stood up in my excitement and cried: “A mastiff bitch?”

“Yes,” said Matthew. “How did you know?”

I started to laugh. “Because I found her.”

“You found her? Where is she?”

“Reclining in a basket in my bedroom at the moment. She was caught in a trap. I found her, took her home and dressed her wound. She is recovering very nicely.”

Matt’s eyes were beaming with delight.

“Well, that is wonderful. I am so grateful to you. Belle is my favourite dog.”

“She is a beautiful dog,” I said. “Poor dear, she has been very sorry for herself.”