Lord of the Far Island

by Victoria Holt

  The pony trap had arrived and I was helped into it. Michael Hydrock took the reins and I sat beside him. His clean-cut profile was turned towards me and I thought what a pleasant face his was—not exactly distinguished but kindly. Here was a man whom it would be easy to understand: I felt he could be relied on to act in a predictable manner.

  He said: "I fancy the wind is softening a little. It may well be that the sea will be calm enough for you to go out to the Island tomorrow morning."

  "I had no idea that I should be delayed so long."

  "It's the geographical location of the Island actually. It's not so far from the land—only three miles—but this coast has its idiosyncrasies. It's a treacherous coast at the best of times and it's unwise to go out with anyone but an experienced boatman. There's a mass of rock just below the sea which has to be carefully skirted and there are quicksands about a mile or so east of Polcrag beach. It has been said that was why the Island was called the Far Isle. You see, it's not that it is so very far from the mainland, just that conditions so often put it out of reach."

  "Is there more than one island?"

  "There's the main one, which is moderately large as islands go. It's about ten miles by five; then there is a small one very close. There is only one house on that one. There is another, too, which is not inhabited at all and which is a sort of bird sanctuary."

  We were almost in the town and I could see the beginning of the Polcrag street. I was sorry, for I wanted to go on riding with Michael Hydrock and hearing about the life of the neighborhood. I thought I might perhaps glean a little more information about my family.

  "It was kind of you to take such care of me after I'd trespassed," I told him.

  "I felt guilty because you'd tripped in my woods."

  "Where I had no right to be! But I'm afraid I can't say I'm sorry. It's been such a delightful afternoon."

  "One thing, it has shown you a little of our countryside. We shall meet again as you won't be far off."

  "I do hope so. Do you often come to the Island?"

  "Occasionally. And you must come to Hydrock Manor when you are on the mainland."

  "I must pick a fair day if I don't want to get stranded."

  "I think it may be possible for you to cross tomorrow. In fact the signs indicate that it almost certainly will be."

  I felt excited at the prospect.

  Now we were right in the town. One or two people looked after the pony trap and I guessed they must be wondering who the stranger was with Michael Hydrock.

  As we entered the inn yard Mrs. Pengelly, who happened to be there, looked at us in blank amazement.

  Michael Hydrock smiled at her. "It's all right, Mrs. Pengelly. Miss Kellaway hurt her ankle in the woods and I've brought her back."

  "My dear life!" she exclaimed.

  Michael had leaped down and was helping me out.

  "How is it?" he asked as I stood on my feet.

  "Quite all right, I think. I can scarcely feel anything."

  "Well sir," said Mrs. Pengelly, "would you come in and drink a tankard of ale or a goblet of wine or should I make a nice brew of tea?"

  "Thank you but no, Mrs. Pengelly. I must be off now."

  He took my hand and smiled at me gently.

  "Be careful of the ankle," he said. "And when you come to the mainland ... or if you feel at any time you need . . . and you would like to, do call. I should be delighted."

  "You have been most good to me," I said earnestly.

  "It was nothing and has been a pleasure."

  Then he was back in the trap and, smiling, turned the horse, who trotted out of the courtyard.

  Mrs. Pengelly and I stood together watching him.

  Then I went into the inn and up to my room, where I lay on the bed, my foot stretched out before me. I had not been there five minutes when there was a tap on the door and Mrs. Pengelly came in. Her eyes were alight with curiosity. I could see that she thought it very odd that I should have been brought back by Michael Hydrock.

  She said: "I wondered if there was anything I could get you, Miss Kellaway?"

  I assured her there was nothing I wanted but she lingered and I could see she wanted to talk and I must admit that I was eager that she should do so, for since she had known my mother and actually lived on the Island there was obviously a great deal she could tell me.

  "It was strange that you should meet Sir Michael," she said.

  "I had no idea that he was Sir Michael."

  "Oh yes, the title's been in the family for years . . . one of the Hydrocks was knighted years ago . . . something to do with fighting for the King against the Parliament, and when the King came back, there was title and lands for the family."

  "I gathered they had been at the Manor for generations. It's a wonderful old place."

  "The Hydrocks have been the squires of these lands ever since they got the title and that's going back a few years—just as the Kellaways have owned the Far Island for about as many years."

  "They own the Island?"

  "Why yes, 'tis often known as Kellaway's Isle."

  "There are surely not just Kellaways there."

  "Bless you, no. It's a thriving community. Leastways it's been so since. . . . It's got its farmlands and shops and there's even an inn. People go there for quietness. You can feel really cut away from the world there."

  "Mrs. Pengelly, what do you know about my mother and father?"

  She spread her hands before her and gazed down at them as though looking for inspiration there. Then she raised her eyes and looked straight into mine. "She just couldn't abide the place," she said. "She was always saying she would leave. There were quarrels. Your father was not an easy man to live with. Then she just went away and took you with her. That's all I know."

  "You were her maid so you must have lived close to her."

  Mrs. Pengelly lifted her shoulders. "She came from the town. She used to hate the sound of the waves pounding on the shores. She said the cries of the gulls were like voices jeering at her because she was a prisoner."

  "A prisoner!"

  "That was how she felt. . . having left her home in London and coming down to Kellaway's Isle. . . ."

  "So she left her home, her husband, everything . . . except me. She must have been unhappy."

  "She was so bright and lively when she came here. Then she changed. There's some people Kellaway's Isle wouldn't suit and she's one of them."

  "What of my father? Didn't he try to bring her back?"

  "No, he just let her go."

  "So he didn't care very much about either of us."

  "He wasn't the sort of man to be very interested in children. And then of course . . ."

  She trailed off and I said eagerly: "Yes, what?"

  "Oh, nothing. I left then. There was no cause for me to be there when she was gone. I came back to the mainland. My father kept this inn then and I married Pengelly and he helped me to run the inn, and then my father died and it passed to us."

  "Who is Jago Kellaway. . . what relation to me?"

  "Now that's something he'll tell you. He wouldn't want me to be talking too much."

  "You seem afraid of him."

  "He's not the sort a body would want to offend."

  "He's my guardian apparently."

  "Is that so then, Miss?"

  "That's what he said in his letter."

  "Well then it be right and proper that you be under his roof."

  "There seems to be a sort of mystery about the Island or the Kellaways. I notice a change in people when they learn who I am."

  "They'd be surprised, I reckon. Hereabouts people know something about others' business and they'd know your mother went off with her child and you be that child. Stands to reason they're interested to see what you've grown up like."

  "Is that all it is? I wish I knew more about the Island and my family."

  "Well, Miss, that'll be something you'll soon be finding out, won't it? My dear life, I be forgetting I have wo
rk to do. Be 'ee sure there's nothing I can bring 'ee?"

  I thanked her and assured her I wanted nothing. I could see that she was a little afraid that she might have said too much and that I might trap her into saying still more.

  The evening passed quickly. I kept going over the events of the day and I told myself that I should not be completely sorry if the sea prevented my crossing to the Island for another day, for I might see Michael Hydrock again.

  Next morning I awoke to a calm sea, glittering in the sunshine.

  I was sure I would cross to the Island on that day and I was right. At ten o'clock in the morning the boat arrived.

  The Castle

  I saw it from my window. A man and a boy alighted and two oarsmen remained in the boat. The man was of medium height, thickset, with light brown hair; the boy slim and I imagined about fourteen years of age. I went downstairs. Mrs. Pengelly greeted me. "The boat be come, Miss Kellaway."

  One of the men from the inn stables brought down my bags and by that time the man and the boy had come into the inn.

  Mrs. Pengelly bustled around very eager to please.

  "Oh, Mr. Tregardier, so you be come at last. I did see how 'twas. Miss Kellaway will be pleased to see 'ee, I know."

  The man held out his hand and shook mine. He studied me with curiosity.

  "I am so pleased to meet you at last," he said. "I'm William Tregardier, Mr. Kellaway's estate manager. He wants me to tell you how eagerly he is awaiting your arrival on the Island. Alas we have been at the mercy of the sea."

  "It's calm this morning."

  "Like a lake. You can be sure we set out as soon as it was possible to do so. We didn't want you to have a rough crossing right at the start. That would have given you a very bad impression."

  He was smiling in a rather benign way and Mrs. Pengelly said: "You'd be liking some refreshment before you start out, Mr. Tregardier, I'll be bound."

  "Well, it's a pleasant idea, Mrs. Pengelly."

  "I'll be bringing you something. I've got my special bees wine if you'd care for it. There's my sloe gin too, a fresh batch of buns and a saffron cake hot from the oven."

  "You know how to tempt me, Mrs. Pengelly."

  "Why don't 'ee sit down and get acquainted with Miss Kellaway and I'll be back so fast you'll hardly known I'm gone."

  She left us and Mr. Tregardier smiled at me.

  "She's a good soul," he said, "and always ready to look after folk from the Island. She was once employed in the household and her son works for us, you know. Do let us sit down and, as she says, we'll get acquainted. First Mr. Jago wants me to tell you how pleased he is that you decided to visit us. The sea might not have been very hospitable but you will find your family very different. I trust there are no complaints about your reception at the inn."

  "Complaints! Indeed I've been spoilt."

  "That was what Jago wanted. I didn't doubt it would be so since he had given orders."

  "I am longing to see the Island and my family. I'm afraid I know so little about them."

  "Did your mother never talk to you?"

  "I was only five years old when she died."

  He nodded. "Well, Jago is in command of the Island. It's like a large estate. I work under him as chief estate manager, as it were. It's a large property really. It just happens to be an island. Jago's sister and his niece live with him. His sister keeps house. She has done so very many years."

  "What relation is Jago to me?"

  "He will explain all that. It's a little involved."

  "It seems strange that all these years we have not been in touch with each other."

  "That happens now and then in families, I believe. But better late than never."

  Mrs. Pengelly brought in the wine and cakes and served us.

  It must have been half an hour later when we set out for the Island. There was a light breeze blowing—just enough to ruffle the water—and the sun was now shining brilliantly. I felt my excitement rising and it was not long before the Island came into sight.

  "There!" said William Tregardier. "That's a good way to see it. It looks fine, doesn't it—fine and fertile."

  "It's beautiful!" I cried.

  "The Far Island. More often known as Kellaway's Isle here."

  A sudden pride took possession of me. After all, I was a Kellaway and it was thrilling to have my name associated with such a beautiful place.

  "There's another island," I cried.

  "That's the nearest. Known as Blue Rock for obvious reasons. It's not cultivated like the main island. It's more rocky and there's some sort of deposit on the rocks which in some lights gives it a bluish tinge. Now you can see that other island. It's just a hump rising out of the water. There's nothing there at all, but the choughs and sea gulls congregate there."

  I turned my gaze back to the main island. The rock on one side rose in a stark cliff face beneath which was a sandy bay. I saw boats moored there.

  "Are we going in there?" I asked.

  "No," answered William Tregardier, "we land on the other side of the Island. It will look quite different from there. The water is very shallow here and there are certain rocks. One has to be careful. It's dangerous until you learn where the rocks and the currents are."

  "How many people live on the Island?"

  "I think the last time we counted the population was one hundred. It increases. People marry and have children. Many of them have been living here for generations."

  The Island was now showing a different aspect. It was softer from this angle and I could see little houses with whitewashed walls and orange-colored roofs. There was a ridge of low hills running down to the sea—green and beautiful, brightened by purple heather and yellow gorse.

  "It's lovely," I cried.

  "It's almost subtropical where we are sheltered from the winds. We even have a palm tree or two growing on this side of the Island. Our fruit and vegetables are in advance of the mainland every year. But that's in the valleys where we are sheltered from the gales."

  "I shall be so interested to explore and learn about the Island."

  "That will please Jago, I'm sure."

  We ran onto a sandy beach where two men were waiting—evidently for us—with horses.

  "I trust you ride," said William Tregardier. "Jago was certain that you did."

  "I wonder how he knew. I do, as a matter of fact. I've always been keen on riding."

  "That's excellent. You'll be able to ride about the Island. It's the best way of getting around."

  The slight breeze caught my bonnet strings and I was glad I had had the foresight to wear such headgear. Some of the smart hats from my trousseau would have been altogether useless and out of place. My baggage, which had been following in another boat, arrived at the same time as we did, and William Tregardier told one of the oarsmen to take care of it.

  "I think you'd better try this little mare, Miss Kellaway," he said. "Later you will be able to select your own horse from the stable. I am sure that is what Jago will want. He keeps a very good stable."

  I mounted the mare, which was a docile creature. William Tregardier took one of the other horses and we then rode up from the beach.

  "The castle is close by," he said.

  "The castle!" I cried. "I had no idea we were going to a castle."

  "We always call it that. Kellaway Castle. It's very ancient, so the name must have been given to it when the family first came here."

  We rounded a hill and there it was ahead of us.

  It was indeed a castle with battlemented towers and thick stone walls. It was a quadrangular edifice, its lofty walls flanked by four circular towers rising above the crenellated parapets of the roof. The stone gatehouse was topped by yet another tower; it looked strongly formidable, as though defying intruders to approach. We passed through it and were in a cobbled courtyard; from here we went under a Norman archway into another courtyard and as we did so a groom appeared as though he had been stationed there to await our arrival.
<
br />   "Take our horses, Albert. This is Miss Kellaway, who has come to stay with us."

  Albert touched his forelock to me and I said: "Good day."

  He took the horses and William Tregardier led the way towards a heavy iron-studded door.

  "I daresay you will wish to wash and perhaps change before meeting Jago," he said. "I think the best thing is to get one of the maids to show you to your room."

  I was bemused. I had made up my mind that there might be something primitive about a house on an island three miles from the mainland. I had certainly been unprepared for such a castle. This was as grand as—no, grander in its way than Hydrock Manor House and clearly of an earlier period. We had entered by the side door and passed along a passage into what seemed like a reception room; sparsely furnished with a table and three chairs. There was a suit of armor in one corner and shields and weapons on the walls. I imagined it had once been part of an armory or a guardroom.

  It seemed as though everyone in the house was awaiting my coming, for no sooner had we stepped into this room than a maid came in from another door.

  "Ah Janet," said William Tregardier, "here is Miss Kellaway."

  Janet bobbed a curtsy.

  "Take her to her room and see that she has everything she needs."

  "Oh yes, sir," said Janet.

  "Then in about. . ." He looked at me. "Say, half an hour?"

  "Yes," I said, "that will do very well."

  "In half an hour bring Miss Kellaway down."

  "Thank you," I said.

  "It's our pleasure to look after you well," he answered.

  Janet said: "If you'd be pleased to follow me, Miss Kellaway."

  I followed her, marveling. We went through several stone-floored passages and mounted a spiral stone staircase. Then we came to a gallery and were clearly in the more residential part of the castle, for the medieval aspect gave way to a somewhat more modern air of comfort.

  "This way, Miss Kellaway."

  She threw open a door and we entered a room on the walls of which were hung ancient tapestries in shades of red and gray. There was red carpet on the floor and curtains of red velvet trimmed with gold fringe. The four-poster bed had red velvet curtains about it, and the effect was luxurious.