“My father gave her that.”

I agreed that that was so.

“And now she has lost him,” I said.

“We must remember that. We must be very gentle with her.”

“Thank you for what you have done,” she said with real feeling.

What had I done? I had uncovered the truth, and my actions were responsible for the present situation.

Kate did not mention her grandfather to me. I wondered how much she understood of what was going on. We continued our lessons. We read a great deal. The mischief had gone out of her. She was subdued a sad little girl.

The will was read. It was found in the Bible which Sir Edward kept by his bed. I wondered why no one had thought of looking there before. It was as we had thought. He had written a letter telling of his previous marriage and naming Simon as his heir. Tristan was left comfortably off but the title and the house would go to Simon.

Lucas and I met often in the inn parlour of The Sailor King. I wondered how I could have lived through those melancholy months without him.

There was a certain tension between us. These were the waiting months.

We knew something had to happen before too long and we were waiting for it.

Dick Duvane was in Australia and on the trail. But now the lawyers had taken over. They wanted to find Simon Perrivale and bring him back to England so that the estate might be settled. They advertised in papers all over Australia; no place, however remote, was left out; no possibility was forgotten.

I began to wonder whether he would ever come home. He might not have reached Australia. Something might have happened to him. Nanny Crockett was sure he would come back. She prayed every night that he would do so . soon.

And then . it was six months after I had almost lost my life in the copse . there was news. Dick Duvane had written home. He had found Simon living on a property just outside Melbourne. Simon was coming home.

There was a letter to me.

Dear Rosetta, Dick has told me all you have done. I shall never forget it. Lucas too, Dick says. Both of you have done so much for me. I have often thought of you and now I am coming home. Soon I shall be with you.

Tristan and Mirabel went to the station to meet his train. Mirabel had suggested that I might accompany them, but I did not want our first encounter to take place in public. I guessed there would be several people at the station to give him a welcome, for it was well known that he was coming home.

I went to my room and waited. I knew that he would come to me soon, and, like me, he would want our meeting to take place in private.

He stood in the doorway. He had changed. He seemed to have grown taller; he was bronzed with the antipodean sun; his eyes seemed a brighter blue.

He held out his hands.

“Rosetta,” he murmured. He looked searchingly into my face.

“Thank you for what you did.”

“I had to do it, Simon.”

“I thought of you all the time.”

There was silence. It was as though there was a restraint between us.

So much had happened to him . and to me . I supposed we had both changed.

“You … you are well?” I asked. It sounded banal. Here he was, standing before me, glowing with health. We had both passed through some horrific adventures and I asked him if he were well!

“Yes,” he said.

“You … too?”

There was another pause.

Then he said: “So much has happened. I must tell you about it.”

“Now that you are home … everything will be so different for you.”

“Just at first it doesn’t seem quite real.”

“But it is, Simon. You’re free now.”

And, I thought, I am free, too. Once I was a prisoner within the walls of the seraglio and when I escaped I built a wall about myself . a seraglio of my own making. My jailer this time was not the great Pasha but my own obsession. I did not see what was clear about me because I could only see one thing-a dream which I had built up, forming it to fit my fantasy . blind to the truth.

He was saying: “And it was you who did it, Rosetta.”

“I was helped by Nanny Crockett … by Lucas … by Felicity. They did a great deal… particularly Lucas.”

“But it was you … you were the one. I’ll never forget.”

“It’s wonderful to know it is over … it worked. And now you are here free.”

It was wonderful, I assured myself. It was my dream come true. I had waited a long time for this meeting . dreamed of it . lived for it and now it was here, why must it be tinged by sadness? I was overexcited, over- emotional, of course. It was only natural.

Simon said: “We’ll talk… later. There’s so much to say.”

“Yes,” I said.

“We’ll talk about it… later. Just now … it seems too much. And people will be waiting to see you. They’ll want to talk to you.”

He understood.

It was true there were many people waiting to see him. His vindication had been much publicized. He was the hero of the day. Although it was some time since his innocence had been made known, his return to England revived interest in the case. So many people wanted to talk to him, to congratulate him, to commiserate with him on all his sufferings. I was glad that he was so occupied. He was different, of course. Sir Simon Perrivale now, no longer humble deck hand, castaway, man on the run.

The first night I dined with the family.

“We thought you’d want to be quiet,” said Tristan to Simon.

“Just the family. Later, I dare say you’ll be inundated with invitations and it might be difficult to refuse some. We shall have to invite people here .”

“It will pass,” said Simon.

“And quickly. I shall be a nine days’ wonder.”

The talk at dinner was mainly about Australia. Simon was enthusiastic.

I could see that. He had acquired a small property.

“Land goes cheap out there,” he said.

“I got quite excited about it.”

I saw him there, working, making plans for a new life . thinking he would never come home. But even then I supposed he would have been on the alert, never sure when his past was going to catch up on him.

Now he was free. It was small wonder that he felt a little strange just as I did. It must be a deeply emotional experience for him to come back to the house to which he had been brought up as a frightened little boy . the place where he had experienced the horror of being accused of murder.

Lucas came over the next day. He, too, had changed. He reminded me very much of the man I had first met at the house of Felicity and James. There was, of course, the limp, but even that was scarcely perceptible. He seemed to have regained that nonchalance . that rather cynical attitude to life.

Simon said: “I have to thank you for what you did for me, Lucas.”

“Small payment for a life, and I should have said goodbye to mine if you hadn’t hauled me into the boat and looked after me when I was a burden to you. In any case, what I did was under Rosetta’s orders.”

“It wasn’t like that, Lucas,” I protested.

“You were eager to do everything you could.”

“Thank you, Lucas,” said Simon.

“Just at first it doesn’t seem quite real.”

“But it is, Simon. You’re free now.”

And, I thought, I am free, too. Once I was a prisoner within the walls of the seraglio and when I escaped I built a wall about myself . a seraglio of my own making. My jailer this time was not the great Pasha but my own

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