that small and insignificant village, that not anywhere in the great archives in which all history is recorded should a mention of Knorwood exist.
Yet one remained who knew, one who had witnessed, one who had seen the Ramplings come in the years that followed, seen them raise their house upon the very slope where the ancient castle had once stood, one who saw a new village collect itself slowly upon the unmarked grave of the old.
And all through the walls of Rampling Gate were the stones of that old castle, the stones of the forgotten monastery, the stones of that little church.
We were once again back in the tower.
'It is my shrine,' he whispered. 'My sanctuary. It is the only thing that endures as I endure. And you love it as I love it, Julie. You have written it You love its grandeur. And its gloom.'
'Yes, yes as it's always been' I was crying, though I didn't move my lips.
He had turned to me from the window, and I could feel his endless craving with all my heart.
'What else do you want from me!' I pleaded. 'What else can I give?'
A torrent of images answered me. It was beginning again. I was once again relinquishing myself, yet in a great rush of lights and noise I was enlivened and made whole as I had been when we rode together through the forest, but it was into the world of now, this hour, that we passed.
We were flying through the rural darkness along the railway towards London, where the night-time city burst like an enormous bubble in a shower of laughter and motion and glaring light. He was walking with me under the gas lamps, his face all but shimmering with that same dark innocence, that same irresistible warmth. It seemed we were holding tight to each other in the very midst of a crowd. And the crowd was a living thing, a writhing thing, and everywhere there came a dark, rich aroma from it, the aroma of fresh blood. Women in white fur and gentlemen in opera capes swept through the brightly lighted doors of the theatre; the blare of the music hall inundated us and then faded away. Only a thin soprano voice was left, singing a high, plaintive song. I was in his arms and his lips were covering mine, and there came that dull, zinging sensation again, that great, uncontrollable opening within myself. Thirst, and the promise of satiation measured only by the intensity of that thirst. Up back staircases we fled together, into high-ceilinged bedrooms papered in red damask, where the loveliest women reclined on brass beds, and the aroma was so strong now that I could not bear it and he said: 'Drink. They are your victims! They will give you eternity — you must drink.' And I felt the warmth filling me, charging me, blurring my vision until we broke free again, light and invisible, it seemed, as we moved over the rooftops and down again through rain-drenched streets. But the rain did not touch us; the falling snow did not chill us; we had within ourselves a great and indissoluble heat. And together in the carriage we talked to each other in low, exuberant rushes of language; we were lovers; we were constant; we were immortal. We were as enduring as Rampling Gate.
Oh, don't let it stop! I felt his arms around me and I knew we were in the tower room together, and the visions had worked their fatal alchemy.
'Do you understand what I am offering you? To your ancestors I revealed myself, yes; I subjugated them. But I would make you my bride, Julie. I would share with you my power. Come with me. I will not take you against your will, but can you turn away?'
Again I heard my own scream. My hands were on his cool white skin, and his lips were gentle yet hungry, his eyes yielding and ever young. Father's angry countenance blazed before me as if I, too, had the power to conjure. Unspeakable horror . I covered my face.
He stood against the backdrop of the window, against the distant drift of pale clouds. The candlelight glimmered in his eyes. Immense and sad and wise, they seemed — and oh, yes, innocent, as I have said again and again. 'You are their fairest flower, Julie. To them I gave my protection always. To you I give my love. Come to me, dearest, and Rampling Gate will truly be yours, and it will finally, truly be mine.'
Nights of argument, but finally Richard had come round. He would sign over Rampling Gate to me and I should absolutely refuse to allow the place to be torn down. There would be nothing he could do then to obey Father's command. I had given him the legal impediment he needed, and of course I told him I would leave the house to his male heirs. It should always be in Rampling hands.
A clever solution, it seemed to me, since Father had not told me to destroy the place. I had no scruples in the matter now at all.
And what remained was for him to take me to the little railway station and see me off for London, and not worry about my going home to Mayfair on my own.
'You stay here as long as you wish and do not worry,' I said. I felt more tenderly towards him than I could ever express. 'You knew as soon as you set foot in the place that Father was quite wrong.'
The great black locomotive was chugging past us, the passenger cars slowing to a stop.
'Must go now, darling kiss me,' I said.
'But what came over you, Julie what convinced you so quickly —?'
'We've been through all that, Richard,' I said. 'What matters is that Rampling Gate is safe and we are both happy, my dear.'
I waved until I couldn't see him any more. The flickering lamps of the town were lost in the deep lavender light of the early evening, and the dark hulk of Rampling Gate appeared for one uncertain moment like the ghost of itself on the nearby rise.
I sat back and closed my eyes. Then I opened them slowly, savouring this moment for which I had waited so long.
He was smiling, seated in the far corner of the leather seat opposite, as he had been all along, and now he rose with a swift, almost delicate movement and sat beside me and enfolded me in his arms.
'It's five hours to London,' he whispered.
'I can wait,' I said, feeling the thirst like a fever as I held tight to him, feeling his lips against my eyelids and my hair. 'I want to hunt the London streets tonight,' I confessed a little shyly, but I saw only approbation in his eyes.
'Beautiful Julie, my Julie' he whispered.
