Time for Silence (47 page)

We bought a few things for the sheer pleasure of hearing the people speak.

“How be enjoying Poldown?” we were asked.

We told them very much.

“Ah, it be grand up there in the big house, certain sure. There be a real gale working up. I wouldn’t want to be out on the sea as it’ll be tonight…not for a farm, I wouldn’t. Old Nick himself ’ull be out there, looking for them as ’ull keep his fires going.”

We listened and thought it was all very quaint. Then we walked back to the house. It was hard going uphill against the wind which was blowing in from the south-west, and we were quite breathless when we reached the house.

Matilda said: “I’m glad you’re back. It’s no day to be out. I was afraid you might be blown off the cliff.”

That night we heard the full force of the gale. I looked down from my window on a sea which had become a seething torrent. The waves rose high and flung themselves against the house with such fury that I felt it might be battered to pieces. I could not believe that this raging fury was the same sea which a few days before had been so calm and pellucid…reflecting an azure blue sky. It was possessed of a maniacal anger and seemed intent on destruction.

I could not sleep. I lay listening to it and it was not until the dawn came that it started to abate.

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was that the wind had dropped. I went to the window. There were still frothy white horses riding the waves and I saw debris on the shore—broken pieces of wood and seaweed.

I dressed and went into Dorabella’s room.

“What a night!” she said. “I thought it was going to blow the house away.”

“We’ve now experienced one of the gales which they are always talking about.”

“It’s all right now, though. Dermot is going to take me into Plymouth today…for a special reason.” She looked a little arch.

“Ah,” I said. “The ring. Is that it?”

“How did you guess?”

“You know I always guess your thoughts. I detect that acquisitive look.”

“Our engagement ring! Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Yes,” I said. “Life can be wonderful.”

“What will you do?”

“I’d rather like to go for a ride this afternoon.”

“With whom?”

“I rather fancy my own company.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes. I would like to take dear old Starlight. That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“You mean the chestnut mare?”

“Yes. I like her and I don’t think she is averse to me.”

“I daresay no one will object.”

I did not think they would, either.

We breakfasted at odd times so that we could have it at our convenience to fit in with our plans.

My mother and I went down to the town in the morning. We saw that some of the fishing boats had broken their moorings and had drifted out to sea.

“These October gales can be something cruel,” Miss Polgenny, who ran the wool shop, told us. “We had warnings enough, I will say. Sometimes there be none. That can be terrible, I can tell ’ee. Why, Tommy Yeo was lost out there…him and his brother Billy. ’Twas said that they did meet parson on the way to the boats. Everyone do know that to see a parson before you sail be unlucky.”

My mother and I exchanged a glance. We should take a long time to learn all that must be done to escape the forces of evil.

My mother was buying some wool and Miss Polgenny gave her attention to that.

“ ’Twas three ply then, was it? And what a pretty color. You be going to enjoy work on that.”

She put the wool into a bag. I leaned forward to take it and in doing so dropped my glove. I stooped and picked it up.

“Oh,” said Miss Polgenny, looking at me with horror. “ ’Ee shouldn’t ’a done that. That means a disappointment before the end of the day.”

“What should I have done?” I asked.

“You should ’a left it there, me dear—and let someone else pick it up.”

“What sort of disappointment?” I asked.

“ ’Twill be someone you’ll meet and maybe ’twere better you didn’t. Now, if someone had picked it up for ’ee…that would have meant it would be someone it would be good for ’ee to meet.”

“Can we go back and do it again?”

“Oh, no, me dear. The die be cast. ’Tis done and there be no going back.”

My mother and I were laughing as we came out of the shop.

I said: “They must be constantly on their guard for fear of upsetting those influences which decide their fate.”

“Do you think they really take it seriously?”

“Deadly so.”

We went back to the house and lunched with Matilda alone. Dermot and Dorabella had gone to Plymouth and would be lunching there, and my father had gone off with Gordon to look at some damage which had been done to one of the gates on the home farm.

“What shall you do this afternoon?” asked my mother, and I told her I should either take a walk or a ride.

“Don’t bother about coming with me. I’m quite happy to go alone.”

“Well, we’ll meet later on.”

I decided to ride. I enjoyed ambling along through the narrow winding lane with little danger of getting lost because once one found the sea one knew where one was.

I went to the stables. One of the grooms came out at once.

“You be wanting Starlight, Miss?” he asked.

“Yes, please. I thought I’d take her for a short ride.”

“She’ll like that. Get on well with ’er, do ’ee, Miss? Her’s a good little creature, that ’un.”

“Yes. I like her very much.”

“I’ll get her ready for ’ee if you give me a minute.”

He said a few words on the topic which was on everybody’s lips: the gale.

“It be hoped we don’t have another just yet. They’m got a habit of coming in twos and threes. Started late this year.”

We chatted for a while and then I was ready to leave.

The air was fresh. I could smell the sea. The wind was coming in—not exactly gentle but exhilarating.

I turned away from the sea. I decided to explore a little inland today.

I rode along thoughtfully. I was thinking of Dorabella and could not help wondering how she would settle into life here. She was ecstatically happy just now and would be until the wedding. And then? I wondered.

I liked Dermot, but against the background of his home, it seemed that there was something lightweight about him. In Germany he had been so self-sufficient. The manner in which he had brought us out of the forest had given him a knightly and masterful image in our eyes. I kept seeing him in contrast to Gordon Lewyth, who was so absorbed in the estate that he could only be mildly interested in visitors—except my father, who could talk with him on his own subject.

It was strange how people could change when seen against a different background. I tried to brush off feelings of uneasiness which had come to me since I had arrived in this place.

I had mounted a slight incline and come to a winding path. I had not been this way before.

The rain which had accompanied last night’s gale had made the countryside glisteningly fresh. It was a pleasure to inhale the scents of the trees and shrubs mingling with that of the damp earth.

It was quiet apart from the soughing of the light wind in the trees making a soft moaning sound.

I pulled up and looked round.

I was thinking: Two more days and we shall be going home.

When I was away from all this I should see it more clearly. I would talk to my parents and I would discover what they felt about the situation. One thing was certain: They could not share my feelings, for they would have shown them if they had; and they seemed quite contented.

There was a fork at the end of the road. I pulled up, wondering whether to take the right or left turn.

I decided on the right.

I rode on, still thinking of Dorabella. She really knew so little of them. His family showed no objections, but I was uneasy. What was it? My overactive imagination? My sense of melodrama? Was it because I was going to lose my sister…well, not exactly lose her, but our lives would no longer be close as they had been until now? The parting would be exciting to her. But what of me?

It was selfish in a way. Was that why I was trying to convince myself that it might not be right for her?

I had come to an open space bordered by trees. There was nothing growing there. Commonland, I supposed.

Starlight threw back her head. She was tired of ambling. She wanted movement. Almost before I could indicate that I agreed with her, she had broken into a canter and we started across the field. I was not sure how it happened. One never is on such occasions. Time itself seemed to slow down. I did see the tree…but not until it was too late. It seemed to sway before my eyes and then it was lying right across my path.

Starlight pulled up sharply and I felt myself thrown sideways. Fortunately she immediately stood perfectly still. I slipped rather inelegantly out of the saddle and fell to the ground. I could sense the tension in the mare, but she was well trained. If she had galloped off at that time I should have been badly injured, for my foot was caught in the stirrup. Hastily I dislodged it and just at that moment I heard the sound of hoofbeats.

As I scrambled to my feet I saw a rider coming toward me. He pulled up sharply, slipped out of the saddle, and gazed at me in horrified surprise.

Then he cried: “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Any pain anywhere?”

“I don’t think so. I just slid down.”

He looked at me anxiously for a moment. “Seems all right. Nothing broken…”

“Oh, no. It wasn’t violent enough for that. My horse was standing still when I fell.”

He laid a hand on Starlight and said: “She did well. Didn’t you see the tree?”

“It fell just as we came up.”

“That gale,” he said, and added: “Look, she’s cast a shoe.”

“Oh, dear. What, er…?”

“You can’t go far like that.”

I looked at him blankly.

“The smithy is close by,” he said. “He’d shoe her for you. It’s the only thing to do.”

I looked perplexed, and he went on: “You’re new here?”

“Yes.”

“I thought so. Staying nearby, are you?”

“Yes. At Tregarland’s.”

“Oh.” He looked amused, and regarded me thoughtfully. “There’s only one thing to do. If you are feeling up to it, I’ll take you along to the smithy. It’s fortunate for you that you didn’t take a toss. She must have pulled up with some precision.”

He turned to Starlight.

“You’re a good old lady, you are. Full marks.” The mare seemed to understand. She nuzzled her nose in his hand and he patted her again.

“She’ll be all right,” he went on. “We’ll get her to the smithy. Let’s see if you are all right, too.” He looked at me steadily. “Sure there’s no pain anywhere?”

“No, none. I’m a little shaken, I suppose.”

“That’s natural.”

“You’re very kind.”

“I’m responsible in a way. That tree’s on my land.”

“Your…land…?”

He smiled ruefully. “Actually, you’re trespassing.”

“Oh…I’m sorry. Then you must be…”

“Jowan Jermyn. You look taken aback.”

“I…had heard your land adjoined Tregarland’s. I am so sorry.”

“I apologize on behalf of my tree. Now, are you sure you’re all right? If so, let’s go. The sooner that mare gets a new shoe the better.”

I took stock of him as we walked along. He was as tall as Gordon Lewyth, but he lacked Gordon’s massive frame, and was rather slender. He had regular features, merry blue-gray eyes and an easy-going, pleasant expression. I thought: So this is the enemy? How fortunate that he does not extend his venom to Tregarland guests.

I was still shaken by my fall and this following on immediately made me feel a little light-headed.

As we walked across the field, he said: “Something will have to be done at once about that tree. Others on the estate may be in a similar state. Very dangerous. The gales here are a menace.”

“I imagine so. Something happened on the Tregarland farm. A roof or a fence or something.”

“Not only theirs, I imagine. How are you feeling now?”

“All right, thank you.”

“You’re shaken up a bit, I expect. You need a stiff brandy; there’s an inn close to the blacksmith’s shop…appropriately called Smithy’s. We’ll look in there and get that brandy.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. I should have been completely bewildered if you hadn’t come along.” Then I found myself laughing.

“It is amusing?” he said.

“Yes. This morning, in the town, I dropped my glove and, because I picked it up myself, I was told I should meet a stranger whom it would be better for me not to. It seems like a reversal of the prophecy.”

“Well, if that tree hadn’t fallen, we shouldn’t have met in the field. So you could say it was right in a way.”

“I think we should have passed each other somewhere near and you would have told me that I was trespassing. So you could say in another way that she was right.”

“I am sure I should have been too polite to mention it. Ah, here is the smithy. I told you it wasn’t far.”

He took Starlight from me and led her into the blacksmith’s shop. The blacksmith was a ruddy-faced man with black hair and bright black eyes.

“Jake,” said my companion, “here’s a job for you. The mare’s cast a shoe.”

“That be so,” said Jake. “How did it ’appen, then?”

“In Three Acres. One of the trees came down suddenly in front of the horse and rider.”

“That dratted gale.”

“That dratted gale indeed!”

“ ’Twon’t be the only one, mark my words.”

“I mark them well, Jake, and endorse them. But how soon can you shoe the lady’s mare?”

“Could start on ’un right away, sir.”

The blacksmith was looking at me intently.

“You be from Tregarland’s, b’ain’t ’ee, Miss?”

Jowan Jermyn gave me an amused look. “Jake is the fount of all knowledge,” he said lightly. “The blacksmith’s shop is one of the news centers of the neighborhood.”

“Mr. Jermyn do mean I likes a bit of gossip,” Jake explained to me with a wink.

“That is a slight understatement,” commented Jowan. “But he is the best blacksmith in the Duchy. That’s so, is it not, Jake?”

“If you do say so, sir, I wouldn’t be the one to contradict ’ee.