"I'd like to."
"I plan to leave today. I did try to find you yesterday. My main idea was to apologize to you."
"It's good of you to come out of your way. I daresay you are very busy."
"As always," he answered, and seeing him there made me think that Jago's notion that the Carringtons were after my little fortune was absurd. "I thought I'd take the opportunity this Truro trip offered and I'm glad I did."
"I'm glad too. If you see Esmeralda please tell her that I often think of her and that I expect to hear all about her engagement."
"I will do that."
We had started to climb and now we were high above sea level.
"You should be careful here," said Rollo. "One slip and you could go hurtling down."
"I'm very surefooted."
"You weren't on another occasion."
"That was when the rail gave way. Nothing to do with being surefooted. In any case I'm extra careful now. Look, there's old Tassie down there. She's gathering limpets, crabs or something to make her concoctions."
"She looks like a disreputable old crone."
"I hope she hasn't heard that. She'd ill-wish you. Oh, she's seen us." I waved a hand.
"Good day to 'ee, Miss Kellaway," she called. "How be you then?"
"Very well, Tassie," I replied, "and you too I trust."
She nodded and went on her way.
"Whatever she's gathering will go into a love potion for some love-sick girl," I said, "or perhaps it will cure someone's warts or sties."
"It seems to me you lead a very colorful life on this island. Did she see me with you, do you think?"
"Certainly she did. Old Tassie sees everything. I think, probably, that's why her prophecies come true. She keeps her eyes open."
We went down the slope to the spot where I had seen Rollo. He took my hand in his and said: "So I am forgiven? I can go on my way with a good conscience."
I nodded. "Thank you for coming," I said. "Would you like to call at the castle?"
He shook his head. "No. I have to leave shortly. I just came to see you. If I have time I might call again on my way back."
"That would be pleasant," I said.
As we went our different ways—he to the inn, I to the castle—I thought of Jago's suggestion that the Carringtons needed money to bolster up their empire. That seemed quite ridiculous. What a strange day it had been! And Rollo's coming had taken me right back to the days of my engagement to Philip.
It was two days later when Slack came to me in a state of great excitement.
"Miss Ellen," he said, "she have come in. The Ellen have come in."
"Where is she, Slack?"
"She's in the cove. I dragged her there and hid her like."
"Why hide her?" I asked.
The bewildered look came into his eyes. "I don't rightly know, Miss Ellen. 'Twere like I were told."
"Does nobody know the boat has come in except you?"
He nodded. "I were watching for her. I saw her out there bobbing on the water and I swam out to her and brought her in. I brought her to my special cove where nobody goes much. She's there now. Come and look. I have something to show you and it's something I don't like. But we got to look at it, all the same."
He led the way down to the shore. It was a spot I had not been to before and I guessed that it was often cut off by the tide. There lay the boat.
"That's not the Ellen," I said at once.
" Tis and all."
"Where's her name? This one has no name at all."
He looked suddenly sly. "I painted her out," he said.
"Why?"
He scratched his head and looked lost again. "I can't rightly say. It seemed best."
"Why are you so mysterious, Slack?" I asked.
"Look 'ee here, Miss Ellen."
He directed my gaze to the bottom of the boat. A hole was bored there.
"How could it have got there?" I asked.
He seemed to read my thoughts, for he answered: " 'Tis only one way her got there, Miss Ellen. Someone bored a hole in her. You did talk of sugar. Well, if a hole were bored and packed tight with sugar 'twould take a little time to dissolve and that's what it did. 'Tis clear as daylight on a summer's day."
I can't bear it, I thought, as I tried to shut out the suspicious thoughts which kept coming into my mind. Someone had bored a hole in the boat—my boat, which only I took out. Someone knew I was not a strong swimmer, someone took a chance that I would go out in that boat alone and would not come back alive.
I stood there staring at the hole and then I was aware of Slack beside me gently laying a hand on my arm.
"Miss Ellen," he said, "if you do be in trouble will 'ee come to me? Maybe the Power will let me help you. Miss Silva used to talk to me. Will you, Miss Ellen?"
"Thank you, Slack," I said. "I'm glad you're my friend."
There was no turning away from the fact which was staring me in the face.
Someone wanted me out of the way so badly that he or she had attempted to kill me.
In the Dungeons
Fear was stalking me. I was certain now that my life was in danger. One possibility occurred to me and it seemed the most likely. Illogically I refused to examine it; I conjured up all sorts of reasons why it could not be true and I refused to listen to the voice of reason within me.
And there has to be a reason, hasn't there? If some person unknown wants another person out of the way it can only mean that the removal of one brings gain to the other. Could this beautiful, fertile Island be the answer? It was mine—or soon to
