Текст книги "Gossamer Cord"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

“You’re keeping me in suspense.”

“I have unearthed Gordon Lewyth’s birth certificate from the records. He is the son of Matilda Lewyth and James Tregarland.”

“Oh!” I said.

“I suspected it might be the case, but I wanted to make absolutely sure.”

“I understood that his father was dead, and that because Matilda was a distant connection of the family, they came to Tregarland’s.”

“That was the story. It would have made a big scandal to bring his mistress and illegitimate son to Tregarland’s. Not that James Tregarland would care very much about that. He must have had his motives. Do you realize what this could mean?”

“Tell me what is in your mind.”

“I have been very uneasy about your staying there. There is something rather sinister about it all. I cannot believe in all these coincidences. Annette Pardell was the first to die.”

“I suppose they would say your ancestress was the first.”

“She drowned herself and that could have given them the idea.”

“Who?”

“Let’s see if we can work that out. The significant point is that Annette was going to have a child. After Dermot, that child would inherit Tregarland’s. It’s a big estate and has become prosperous in the last years.”

“Because of Gordon rather than Dermot.”

“Exactly. I’m theorizing, of course. But that is all I can do. It is you I am concerned about.”

I felt a pleasant glow creep over me and it was not due to the sparkling wine.

“I’d get you out of there quickly,” he went on, “but you won’t go without the child, Tristan. I can’t see how you could kidnap him. Suppose Annette died because she was carrying the child who would be heir to the estate? Now Dermot is dead.”

“And Dorabella…?”

“That’s the part that doesn’t fit. Her son was already born. I can’t understand that. Why your sister? That is what rather spoils my theory.”

“You think that someone murdered Annette because she was going to have a child?”

“Yes. The child would follow Dermot.”

“But she went swimming.”

“I don’t believe she did. She wouldn’t have done that. She was warned against it. She was too experienced to be so foolish.”

“That is what Mrs. Pardell said. She is convinced that Dermot killed her.”

“Dermot would never kill anyone.”

“Mrs. Pardell thought he was tired of Annette and that later he was tired of my sister, too, that he was a sort of Bluebeard who married women and then, when he was tired of them, just killed them.”

“A likely tale and absolute nonsense!”

I said suddenly, as a terrible fear came to me: “There was that time when Tristan was so ill. Someone must have gone into his room, uncovered him and opened the window, hoping it would kill him, which it might have done if Nanny Crabtree hadn’t gone in in time.”

“That fits,” he said. “Annette’s possible heir, then Tristan. And…what of Dermot?”

“Are you suggesting that someone in the house murdered Dermot?”

“That would clear the decks a bit, wouldn’t it?”

I looked at him in disbelief. “You mean…for Gordon?”

He nodded. “Listen. Gordon has been brought up there. He runs the estate…excellently. He is devoted to it. He regards it as his. He is Tregarland’s son, but because his mother was not married to his father when he was born…”

“You think she is now?”

“No. I don’t know why James didn’t marry her, but it seems he hasn’t. But I feel sure that if he had no legitimate heirs everything would go to Gordon.”

“You are suggesting that Gordon killed Annette…and perhaps Dermot?”

“Who else?”

“But Annette was supposed to have been caught by the tide, by cross-currents or cramp…”

“Is that plausible?”

“Not entirely.”

“And Dermot?”

“He might have taken those pills himself. On the other hand, he might not. It leaves the way clear, except for…”

I was staring at him in horror. “If this is so…Tristan is in danger…imminent danger.”

He nodded.

“Jowan, I’m frightened.”

“I knew you would be. The child will have to be watched day and night. If I am right in what I am thinking, there will be an attempt on his life.”

“How…?”

“It was attempted before. There is one thing that baffles me. It is your sister’s death. She was not in the way. Dermot was the one…and now Tristan. Dermot is dead and we cannot be sure how he died. It might have been by his own hand, as the coroner’s verdict decided. It would seem that this was a reasonable deduction—apart from one thing. Someone would profit from his death. But there was no reason to be rid of your sister. If there had been a child on the way, yes. But presumably there was not. And that is where the theory falls down.”

“I have always felt a little uneasy about Gordon, but it is hard to imagine people one knows as murderers.”

“The most unlikely people often are. When I found—as I suspected might be the case—that he was in fact James Tregarland’s son, I had a good deal of confidence in my theory. It was only on further consideration that I realized that there were doubts.”

“Jowan, what are we going to do?”

“I think try to find proof.”

“How?”

He lifted his shoulders. “It is difficult to know. One thing of which I am certain is that you must watch the baby carefully.”

I said: “It would be easy for them. There has been that death of a child, an unexplained death which happens to children now and then. It is accepted as something of which the doctors are unsure.”

“I have heard of that. Young babies die unexpectedly and inexplicably. It baffles the medical profession, although I have no doubt that in time they will discover what lies behind it.”

“Oh, Jowan, I am so glad you are here.”

He put his hand across the table and touched mine.

I went on: “And I am glad you went to London when you did.”

He released my hand and smiled at me. “You are in the thick of it. How I wish you were not.”

“I am glad I am there to watch over the baby. I shall have to take Nanny Crabtree into my confidence. Do you think that is wise?”

He was thoughtful. “It’s only a theory,” he said.

“Yes, but the child could be in danger.”

“You have told me something of her. She was your nurse and you know her well. I suspect she is the sort of woman who would do anything for her charges.”

“You could certainly trust her to do that.”

“Then take her into your confidence. Tell her your fears and use your discretion as to what you can tell her. I just feel that the child must be watched, for if there is someone in the house who wants to be rid of him, he is in great danger.”

“I shall tell her then. I feel relieved that we can take some action. All these things that are happening around me make me wonder what is coming next.”

I told him about Polly’s seeing Dorabella’s ghost.

“What will they think of next?” he asked.

I also mentioned that I had called on Mrs. Pardell, who had not let me in, although I felt certain that she was in the house.

“Some whim, possibly. Though I should have thought she would have come downstairs, opened the door, and told you to your face.”

I smiled.

“Oh, I am so glad you are here,” I said again.

He replied rather flippantly: “Well, it is nice to be appreciated.”

But I felt he was both touched and immensely pleased.

The Watchers in the Night

I WENT STRAIGHT TO Nanny Crabtree and told her that I wanted to speak to her very seriously.

I began by saying that what I had to tell her was for her ears alone. It might not be true. It was only a theory, but if it were correct, Tristan was in danger.

She was alert and for once listened intently.

“Seems to have some sense in it,” she said, and it was characteristic of her that she should immediately think of that occasion when Tristan had been in danger from the open window.

“I never opened that window,” she declared. “I do know that. Someone must have. And he wasn’t in the habit of throwing his clothes off. And him with that cold on his chest…I could murder them as hurts little children.”

“We’ve got to make sure he is not left alone…night or day.”

She nodded. “And Miss Dorabella…?”

“Well, that is the part that doesn’t fit. We can’t think why anyone would want her out of the way.”

“And we know her. She might have got into her head that she wanted to swim, and if she did, there’d be no holding her back. ‘I want this and I’m going to have it.’ That was her all over. And Mr. Dermot himself…”

“That might have been either way. Oh, Nanny, don’t you see how careful we have to be! We must not take chances. There’s a lot against what we think may be, but because of Tristan we mustn’t dismiss anything.”

“I see that all right. No matter if we are barking up the wrong tree, we’ve got to make sure our boy is safe. I tell you what we’ll do…and this will be just between you and me. You know that divan thing…in the nursery? I’ll sleep on that. Nobody will know. Then I’ll be on the alert…day and night.”

“Nanny,” I said, “I shan’t sleep well in my bed. I’m going to take my turn of watching with you. I am going to sleep in the nursery with him.”

“There’s no need,” said Nanny Crabtree. “I shall be on the watch sleeping in the same room.”

“I shouldn’t rest in mine,” I said. “I’ll be wondering what’s happening all night.”

She looked at me and nodded slowly. “I know you,” she said. “Well, all right then. You shall sleep here on the divan and I’ll be in my room with the door open.”

I was already planning. “I shall come up quietly when the household has retired, and go back to my room before it starts stirring. It is very important that no one else should know of these arrangements…no one in the house.”

“I see that. We mustn’t give it away.”

“Tonight, then…”

“Tonight,” said Nanny Crabtree.

So that was how it was. I would lie on the divan, and in the starlight I could see the outline of the cot. I slept lightly. The slightest sound from Tristan’s cot awakened me and would set me listening.

Sometimes I thought: Can this really be true? Are we dramatizing the situation? Could Gordon possibly have murder in mind? He had been present when his mother had talked of the Pengelly baby. Had I imagined he seemed especially alert? I tried to remember what he had said. It was something the medical profession did not understand. The doctors were researching; they would discover the cause in time. But as yet the deaths were accepted as due to circumstances beyond their knowledge. How easy it would be to snuff out a young life!

My thoughts went back to that day when he had found me caught by the tide. He had gone to great efforts to save my life. But he did not want to be rid of me. I did not stand in his way.

It was hard to believe such a thing of someone one knew. But how well did I know him? He had always been something of an enigma and—I had often felt—a little sinister. Or was I imagining that now?

I had slept on the divan for two nights and this was the third.

There was no moon but the sky was cloudless and the stars bright.

I was looking out of the window at one which was particularly bright—a planet possibly. I remembered Dorabella’s saying to me on such a night: “That’s God’s eye watching us. He saw you take that cake when Cook wasn’t looking. You stuffed it into your pocket. He wrote it down in his little book and you’ll answer for it one day.” And I had retorted: “You ate most of it, so you’ll suffer more.” “It’s not eating it that counts, it’s stealing it,” was her reply.

Memories of Dorabella would go on like that for ever.

A stair creaked. I was alert. My heart was beating fast as I sat up in bed listening. There it was again. Stealthy steps coming toward the nursery!

I slipped out of bed and stood behind the door. I was there just in time before it was slowly, cautiously, opened.

I could not believe this was happening, although I had been waiting for it. It was like a performance which I had been rehearsing. I saw the pillow first…the whiteness was clear in the starlight.

Then, like a dream—a nightmare, really—I saw that what we had imagined would happen was taking place in actual fact.

A figure had moved toward the cot, bending over the sleeping child. I ran forward crying, “Nanny, Nanny! Quick…!”

The figure turned sharply. Not Gordon. Matilda!

Nanny Crabtree was there…a walking stick in her hand, ready to strike.

Matilda Lewyth turned to face us. Her eyes were wild with what seemed to me like madness.

“What…what do you think you are doing…?” she cried.

“What are you doing here?” said Nanny.

“Get out,” cried Matilda. “Get out…both of you.”

“It is you who will have to get out of my nursery,” said Nanny Crabtree sharply. “How dare you come in here and try to kill my baby?”

“What are you talking about?”

Matilda had dropped the pillow. She fell into a chair and covered her face with her hands.

“Nanny,” I said. “Go and wake Mr. Lewyth. I think he is the one who will know what is best to be done about this.”

“You watch then and give me that pillow.”

Matilda and I were alone and she lowered her hands and looked at me.

I said slowly: “You were going to kill him. You were going to kill Tristan. You thought it would be easy. You were going to pretend that what happened to Mrs. Pengelly’s baby happened to him.”

She did not answer.

“And the others…” I said. “Matilda, what does it mean?”

But I knew what it meant. Jowan’s discovery had made it clear. She wanted Tregarland’s for her son, hers and James Tregarland’s, and she had been ready to remove anyone who stood in his way. She, who had seemed so gentle, so self-effacing, so eager to please, was a murderess.

How thankful I should always be to Jowan. But for his warning Tristan would have died tonight.

I shall never forget Gordon’s coming into that room. He took one look at his mother. I knew that Nanny had told him what had happened. And what I saw in his face, although it was acute horror, was not surprise.

He was clearly deeply shocked. He went to her and put an arm round her.

“Mother,” he murmured. “Mother…oh, what have you done?”

She began to sob tempestuously. He comforted her and turned to us.

“I’ll take her to her room. I’ll give her something to make her sleep. She’ll go mad if I don’t. Oh, my God, this is terrible. Please, let me take her away. I’ll come back. There are things I can tell you. I want you please to try and understand.”

Nanny Crabtree said: “My baby could have been killed!”

Matilda was shaking. I thought she would have some sort of fit. She began to tear at her clothes and her hair in a frenzy of madness. She threw herself at Gordon.

“It was for you,” she said. “For you…my boy. It was your right…”

He tried to soothe her. I had never witnessed such a harrowing scene.

His arm around his mother, Gordon led her away.

Nanny and I went over to Tristan’s cot. He had slept through it all.

“You were right then,” said Nanny. “Thank God you were here. She’s mad, that woman. I know madness when I see it, and I’ve seen it tonight. Her of all people. You look shaken, dear. And no wonder. You did well. To think of what might have been. He’s shook up, too. Seemed to me as if he knew what she might be up to. Do you think we ought to wake someone else…in case he comes back and kills us?”

“There’s only Mr. James Tregarland. We don’t want any of the servants in this. He could have attacked us already if he were going to. As a matter of fact, I think he is a very worried man. I have misjudged him. She has been the one…and there is madness there…”

Nanny was looking down on Tristan.

“And the little mite slept through it all.”

It seemed a long time before Gordon joined us. He looked pale and anxious. Nanny Crabtree brought a chair for him. He sat down and looked from one to the other of us almost pleadingly.

I thought: He loves his mother and he is afraid for her.

“I must make you understand,” he said. “I must tell you everything from the beginning in the hope that you will. Of course, there is no excuse. She has attempted to do this terrible thing. For some time she has had one aim in life. She is determined to see me master of Tregarland’s. It has become an obsession with her.

“James Tregarland is my father. He and my mother met long ago. There has been a relationship of long standing. My mother came from a poor but respectable family. She worked in one of the hotels in Plymouth as a chambermaid. My father stayed there now and then and that was how they met. He was attracted by her. He was married, of course, and when my mother was about to have me her parents were deeply shocked. She had disgraced them and they disowned her. My father set her up in a house where I was born. He continued to visit her. I remember, the days when he came. He was interested in me. He used to watch me with an amused look in his eyes, as though he found our situation amusing.

“It was not amusing to my mother. She had been brought up very strictly and was always uneasy about the situation. When my father’s wife died, she thought he might marry her. He did not do so. But it was arranged that she and I should come to Tregarland’s. I know my mother thought this was a beginning, a step in the right direction, and that eventually she would be mistress of the house. Before she had died, my father’s wife had given birth to Dermot.

“I remember the day my mother told me we were going to live in the big house. There was some story about my mother’s being a distant connection of the Tregarland family, in reduced circumstances, which was said to be the reason why she came to keep house. She did this very successfully. But she wanted two things: marriage for herself…and the estate for me. That became the aim of her life. My father knew this. The idea amused him. He liked to keep her on tenterhooks. Would he? Wouldn’t he? He used to tease my mother. I think he may have hinted that I should have had the estate if there had been no legitimate heirs. Well, of course, there was Dermot. Who would have thought that would happen to him? He was young and strong. True, he was not very interested in the place, but it went well enough with my management.

“That was the role my father had decided for me. It irked my mother. I was her son…and my father’s eldest. I had brought prosperity to the estate. Dermot would never have been able to do that, yet it was to be his because I was not legitimate. He could have married her but he would not. I don’t know why he was adamant about that. He was fond of her. I think he liked to keep her guessing. He liked to see how she would act—how we all acted. He was very conscious, too, of the family honor. Perhaps he did not think it would be fitting to marry an ex-chambermaid.

“Please understand. She has lived with this for years. Her hopes would be allowed to rise…and then be dashed. As I said, it had become an obsession. Perhaps if she had talked of it more—not tried to hide it—it might have helped. But she kept it shut away within herself. I alone knew the depth of her feeling, her suppressed bitterness. She would talk vehemently about my rights, but only to me. I have for some time feared for her.”

“You did not think she would attempt…murder,” I said.

He hesitated. Then he said: “Lately…I feared.”

“What of the first Mrs. Tregarland?”

“I know nothing of that. She went for a swim which was foolish in her condition.”

“And Dermot?”

He hesitated again. “I…I did not speak to her of that. I think I preferred to assure myself that he died by his own hand. He was very depressed and guessed he would never be able to walk properly again. There seemed reason for him to take his life.”

“And now…?”

“There is only the child left now.

Nanny Crabtree listened without speaking.

“What will happen now?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Gordon helplessly. “We shall have to wait. I will call the doctor to her first thing in the morning.”

“You will have to tell him what happened?”

“Yes, I think he will have to be told everything.”

“What do you think will happen to her?”

“They give people some sort of treatment. There have been lots of advances in dealing with it. I think she desperately needs psychiatric treatment.”

“So we must wait until the morning. I am so sorry for you, Gordon.”

He smiled at me mournfully. “It had to come. I was not altogether unprepared. I knew she would have to go away sooner or later. After tonight, I feel she will have to have some sort of care.”

The clock in Nanny’s room chimed two.

Nanny Crabtree said: “I think we ought to try and get some sleep. Miss Violetta, you go to that divan, and as for you…” She looked at Gordon as though he were one of her children. “You should try and get some sleep, too. You’re going to have a lot to do tomorrow.”

He gave us both a pathetic smile, but there was a certain gratitude in it.

“I know,” he said, “that you will both do all you can to help.”

He left us then.

Nanny said: “Poor man. I liked him better tonight. He’s very fond of his mother, I will say that for him. A man who’s fond of his mother can’t be all that bad. Now, I think I’ll make us a nice cup of tea and then we’ll see if we can get a bit of sleep. I was right when I said there’d be a lot to do tomorrow…or today, rather.”

I sat there thoughtfully. There was no hurry. I knew neither of us would sleep.

We took one last look at Tristan. The teddy bear had slipped from his grasp, but he was smiling in his sleep.

The next two days were indeed chaotic. Two doctors came to see Matilda.

She had awakened on that first morning in a bemused state. Gordon was with her at the time. He had sat by her bedside all through the rest of the night, to be sure to be there when she awoke.

She only half realized what had happened on the previous night. She wept bitterly and was in a state of complete mental disorder.

The family doctor came first. He said she needed immediate attention. Then he called another doctor, as was, I believed, usual in such cases; and at the end of the second day, she was taken away. They had to sedate her because she had shown a tendency to violence. Gordon was very sad, indeed, and I was touched because he turned to me for comfort.

He confided in me a good deal and told me that he had been very concerned for her for a long time. He had tried to make her understand that he accepted his position and, because he realized that it was unlikely that he would ever inherit the estate, he had come to terms with that fact.

He loved it and indeed he had complete control of it; and it would be years before Tristan could take it over. He would work with the boy, teach him what had to be taught. He had been content with that.

But it had not been good enough for his mother. She had set her heart on his being recognized as a Tregarland and master of the family home.

“Obsession,” he said. “It can ruin a life…as it has hers.”

“You will see her often,” I said.

“Yes. She will be at Bodmin. I shall go at least once a week. It may be that they will be able to help her. They have all sorts of wonderful treatment these days.”

“I do hope so, Gordon.”

“I shall always be grateful to you,” he replied. “If you had not been there she would have killed the child. I feel it would be something she would never have got over.”

I was thinking then of Annette, for I could not believe that she had deliberately chosen to go into the sea that morning.

I wondered whether there was at least one murder on Matilda’s mind, and whether that had helped her to go completely mad.

James Tregarland was very upset by what had happened. He stayed in his room, and after they had taken Matilda away he sent one of the servants to ask if I would come to his room as he would like to talk to me.

I went to him at once and there I found him like a different person. He seemed old and shrunken.

“Oh, Violetta,” he said. “You have come into a strange household. What are you thinking of us, eh? There has been nothing but trouble. It is strange, is it not? For years we went on peacefully—uneventfully—and then everything erupted like a volcano that has been inactive for years and once it starts cannot stop.”

“A great deal has certainly happened,” I said. “I think one thing has grown out of another.”

He nodded. “My poor Matty. I was fond of her, you know. She was always an interesting girl. That calm exterior hiding her explosive passions. I treated her badly. I have discovered I have a conscience. Not a pleasant discovery at my time of life, when it is too late to do anything about it. She wanted me to marry her. Why didn’t I? It would have given her peace of mind. Those parents of hers—it was the way they had brought her up. Poor Matty. Conventionality was their way of life, and hell fire was awaiting those who strayed. It was implanted in her and nothing could change that. I teased her, though I’m ashamed to say I enjoyed that. Well, I made a will…everything for my legitimate heirs, and if they were unable to inherit, it went to my natural son, Gordon Lewyth. That was when it started…once she had got that out of me. I enjoyed watching it, you see. I knew Matty pretty well. So prim she had been at first, and then not so prim. I didn’t think it would last very long when it started…I thought I’d give her something and say goodbye. But it did not work that way. It went on. There was the boy, you see. I liked him and he was damned useful on the estate when he grew up. He was a worker, different from some of the Tregarlands who’d gone before. I’m to blame for a lot of this, Violetta.”

“You had no idea how far she would go.”

“I should have had. And she tried to murder my grandson! Thank God you were sleeping in the room.”

“Yes. I found out that Gordon was your son. I misjudged him. I thought he might attempt to murder Tristan. There was talk about babies who died mysteriously and it had been mentioned in my hearing. Then Nanny Crabtree and I worked out what we would do.”

“I’m grateful to you both. He’s a bright little fellow, our Tristan. To think he might have been snuffed out like a candle. I’m grateful to you.”

“And to Nanny Crabtree.”

“Yes, indeed. She’s an old stalwart, she is. A real dragon, a battleaxe. I like that. I can’t see anyone getting the better of her.”

His chin started to wag and for a few seconds he looked like his old self.

“She loves those she calls her children dearly,” I said. “I am so pleased my mother arranged for her to come and look after Tristan.”

“Oh, yes, we have to be thankful for that. And most of all we are thankful to you, my dear. I like to feel my grandson is in your hands. And what will happen to my poor Matty?”

“Gordon thinks they may be able to help her.”

“Just now she won’t be aware of where she is and what she has done. It will be better for her to remain in ignorance of that.”

“And what she may already have done.”

“You are thinking of Dermot’s first wife…”

“Yes, Annette.”

“That was a strange affair. I was glad when Dermot brought your sister here. And then…”

“Do you have any idea what happened?”

He shook his head. “I wondered. The first wife was drowned when she was carrying an unborn child. The thought came to me later as to whether Matty had a hand in it. Though naturally it didn’t occur to me at the time.”

“Do you think she could have killed Annette?”

“I don’t know.”

“And Dermot?”

“It would have been easy for her to slip his pills to him, perhaps. I wonder…would she have gone as far as that?”

“He stood in Gordon’s way, just as Tristan did. And it would have been so easy with him…as it would have been with Tristan. But…Annette…and my sister…”

“My dear, you have suffered with us all. Your stay here has been marked by tragedy. Too many tragedies.”

“Too many to be natural,” I repeated. “And now that we see there was a motive…”

He nodded slowly. “I want you to know how grateful I am to you. This household needs you particularly now. Will you promise me you will not leave us?”

“I cannot say what the future will bring. For a time I shall be here. Tristan means a lot to me.”

“I will be satisfied with that. My poor Matty! How I wish this had not happened to her. She has gone, hasn’t she? There will be no coming back. So calmly efficient outwardly, and a raging furnace of resentments within. Does it not show how complex human beings are? It has always been a sort of hobby with me…to observe them.”

“They are, indeed, complex, and I will leave you now, if you will excuse me. I have promised Nanny Crabtree that I will be in the nursery this morning.”

He nodded. “We need you here,” he said. “I…Gordon…Tristan. Yes, we do. I would not feel happy about the child if you left us.”

I said: “I shall stay for a while.”

That satisfied him. He nodded again and closed his eyes. He looked very tired and infinitely sad.

Seth had changed. It was strange to see a big strong man looking like a helpless child. Oddly enough, he seemed to turn to me. I knew that he had regarded Matilda with a kind of awe, coupled with a great admiration and trust. I thought sometimes that he had looked at her as though she were some sort of deity.

She had been kind to him. How strange that she, who had contemplated killing one child, could be so considerate to a poor creature like Seth.

And now she had gone, Seth seemed lost and bewildered. Poor, uncertain Seth, whose life had been blighted when he was ten years old, and he had never really developed after that.

I often found him close to me, and suddenly it dawned on me that I was a substitute for Matilda. He would hurry to me if I were carrying something. He would take it from me, and clearly showed what gratification it gave him to help me.

That was how I came to talk to him and to learn what I had always wanted to know.

I would chat about horses and the work he did in the garden. One day I saw him working there and I went down to the seat which was close by and said: “Hello, Seth. How are you this morning?”

His face creased with pleasure, as it always did when I spoke to him.

“I be well, Miss Violetta.” He slurred my name. He had always had difficulty with it.

“The sea is a little rough today,” I went on. “Is that how it was the morning the first Mrs. Tregarland went in to bathe?”

He had lost that look of anxiety he had always had before when I mentioned that occasion.

“He said: “Oh, ’tweren’t morning…’twere night…weren’t it?”

I was startled. This was a new angle on the case.

“Night?” I said.

“Sea be different by night,” he said, scratching his head. “Don’t know what it be, but it be different.”