There was nothing I could do. I didn’t know how to open the door, even if I had wanted to.
‘Uncle Tom—’ I pressed my face against the cold stone ‘—try to find the lever. It’s out there somewhere. Can’t you see it on the map?’
But he’d gone. There was no answer except the hollow sound of my own voice bouncing off the rocks.
I looked down at the riches inside the vault. So many people had died because of them, and yet now they were as worthless to me as pieces of glass.
I sat down on a boulder and rested my chin on my hands. Poor Wenna. She had obviously been unbalanced. She hadn’t even known what she was doing half the time. She might even have imagined that she was really my mother when she brought me those priceless gifts.
I became aware of a strange rustling sound, and with shaking hands I lifted the lantern high. To my consternation, I saw there was water seeping under the rock door. The tide must be coming in. Greyson had said that the underground passages became flooded when the tide was high.
Quickly I scrambled up onto the vault and watched in horrified fascination as the level of the water rose rapidly. Suddenly I heard the muffled sound of the chapel bell ringing out its warning of a high tide, and I shuddered, wondering who could be ringing the bells. Was it Uncle Tom, glorying in his sick mind because I was trapped?
I screamed as the water lapped over the edge of the vault, and I lifted the lantern high, trying desperately to find another way out.
Towering up from the head of the vault was a cross, and I drew a sharp breath. Could this be the cross I’d seen from my window? I examined it closely. It was just like any other cross, but was it the one on the island? If so, there must be an opening somewhere in the roof, and I must be out in mid-water under the island!
I stood on tiptoe, trying to hold the lantern high, and dug hopefully at the rock with my fingers. Dust showered down on me, but doggedly I continued to dig at the damp hard surface, knowing it was my only hope of escape.
The water was now swirling around my legs, and I glanced down in terror. If I had been standing on the floor instead of on the top of the vault, the water would have been over my head.
The muscles in my legs ached intolerably from the strain of standing on tiptoe, but somehow I kept on trying, and the water continued to rise relentlessly.
At last, sobbing in desperation, I hung onto the cross to rest for a moment. The lantern had almost burned itself out, and in a short while I would be in complete darkness. A numbness seemed to be creeping over me with the advance of the water, and my attempts to probe against the roof became feeble and half-hearted.
‘Charlotte!’ Was it my imagination, or was there a voice really calling me? ‘Charlotte, can you hear me?’
Suddenly I was spurred into frenzied activity.
‘Greyson, is that you? Oh, Greyson, get me out of here!’
‘Charlotte, get a grip on yourself and listen carefully.’
I could barely hear what he was saying. There was a buzzing in my ears, and I realised consciousness was slipping away from me.
‘There’s a spring at the base of the cross. If you press it, it will release the door, and I can get you out. Charlotte, please try, for my sake.’
I took a deep breath and plunged beneath the dark icy water. My fingers struggled to find the spring. I kicked around for a few minutes, then rested against the cross. The light had gone out now, and it was totally dark.
I knew I would have to hurry. There wasn’t much time left before the water would be over my head. I held onto the stem of the cross so that I wouldn’t float away, and carefully felt around the base, thinking that at any moment my lungs would burst. Then my hand encountered a bump in the smooth surface of the cross, and I pressed it with all my strength.
For a moment I thought nothing was going to happen. Then the water began to swirl around me, the cross was rising through a square opening in the rock, and I was being dragged out of the water with it. The mechanism stopped, and then I was in Grey son’s arms.
‘Charlotte, my poor dear girl!’ He held me tightly, and I clung to him in a passion of relief.
‘I thought you were dead,’ I said, my voice rising on a sob. ‘Uncle Tom told me he’d shot you!’
‘He only thought he had,’ Greyson said bitterly. ‘I had the sense to roll down the rocks and stay still until I saw Edmund pull you out of the water. I did some probing around after that, and Mrs Grifiths told me most of the story.’ He threw his coat around me. ‘Come on; let’s get you to the boat.’
‘What did Mrs Grifiths have to do with it?’ I asked through teeth that chattered with cold.
Greyson pulled away from the island before answering my question.
‘She supplied Father with the poison and other drugs – against her will, of course. You were right when you said someone was there the day we visited her. It was Father. Don’t worry; she’s told me he’s not my real father. And yet I would have trusted him with my life; that’s where I made my big mistake.’
‘You suspected me, didn’t you?’ I said softly. ‘Where is Uncle Tom now?’
Greyson jerked his head in the direction of the house. I looked up and saw that all the windows were glowing with light, and there seemed to be a great deal of activity going on.
‘I’ve got plenty of help.’ Greyson smiled. ‘Half the town is up there. We caught Father ringing the bell in the chapel. I didn’t realise how much strength he had.’
‘Poor Greyson,’ I said softly. ‘But anyway, the townspeople will be well rewarded for their trouble. There’s a whole load of priceless jewels and silver and gold down there under the island. Graig Melyn will be a rich town.’
‘We’ll leave them to sort things out,’ Greyson said with feeling. ‘As soon as we get to the shore, you are going to change into some dry clothes, and then we are heading straight for Winston.’
The boat bumped gently against the shore, and Greyson lifted me out.
‘I love you, Charlotte,’ he said softly. ‘I didn’t realise how much until you were trapped under the island. I felt like digging into the rock with my bare hands.’
He cupped my face and kissed me tenderly, and I leaned against him, dizzy with happiness. Arm in arm, we walked up the garden path toward the house.
On the terrace, I stopped for a moment and looked back at the island, almost submerged beneath the sea. The cross stood out sharply against a sky that was beginning to warm with the promise of daybreak, and there were tears in my eyes as I thought of Wenna. Greyson’s arm tightened around me.
‘It’s all over, my darling,’ he said softly. ‘I am taking you home.’
Leaning against his strength, I left the darkness and walked into the warmth and light and the certainty of a new day of happiness.
First published in Great Britain in 1998 by Severn House Publishers LTD
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
Third Floor, 20 Mortimer Street
London W1T 3JW
United Kingdom
Copyright © Iris Gower, 1998
The moral right of Iris Gower to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788638876
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Originally published 1973 in the USA under the title The Green Cape and
pseudonym Susanne Richardson
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