" 'You're in love with him,' I said.
" 'Everybody's in love with him.'
" 'That must make life a bit complicated for him.'
" 'Why? Wouldn't it be nice to have everyone in love with you?'
" 'As not one single person has ever been in love with me, I can't say.'
"She said: 'Poor Silva! I'm going to take you to Hydrock Manor. You know, you might meet someone there.'
"It's night and I can't sleep. There is something about this room which I don't like. It seems full of shadows. Perhaps because I've been so unhappy in it. Somebody said once: Life is what you make it. If that's true, I've made a very bad thing of mine.
"I'm sitting at my desk writing. It's no use lying in bed when you can't sleep. I have just been to the cupboard and seen that silly childish scrawl. I wish I could obliterate it. I remember the day I wrote it. Sent to my room for two days and nights because I had committed some crime. I can't even recall what now.
"I'm introspective tonight and because of Gwennol. Gwennol is in love and watching her has shown me clearly what has been wrong in my life. No one ever loved me—except perhaps my mother and when she died there was absolutely no one else. That's what I want more than anything—just someone to love me. Because nobody does, I do wild things. I suddenly lose my temper and scream. I just want someone to hate me if they won't love me. At least they're taking notice of me then.
"I'm thinking of Jago as I write this. He has changed towards me. He is being very kind. Not that he was unkind before. He just didn't notice me. Two days ago he rode round the Island with me and talked about things in that way he has—as though it's just about the most important thing in the world.
"I was excited when we came back to the castle. Why is Jago suddenly becoming interested in me?
"Yesterday Fenwick was in the garden sitting on the wicker seat by the pond. I went up to him because it is unusual to see him without my father.
" 'Where is my father today?' I asked.
" 'He's having a day in bed, Miss Silva.'
"'Is he. . .less well?'
" 'He's a very sick man, Miss Silva.'
" 'I know he had a stroke some time ago.'
" 'It's crippled him and now . . .'
" 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I wish he would see me.'
"Fenwick shook his head. 'Don't come to his room whatever you do, Miss. That would just about finish him, the state he's in now.'
" 'Do you know why he hates me so?' I asked.
"He shrugged his shoulders.
" 'I suppose he wanted a son,' I suggested. 'Most people seem to.'
" 'Maybe he did,' said Fenwick. 'But he's not one for children.'
"Fenwick was anxious, I could see. I wondered whether he was asking himself what he would do if my father died. My father couldn't do without Fenwick, as Jago had said. But what would Fenwick do without my father?
"I wouldn't say this to anyone, but I can write it. Oh, how careful I shall have to be with these notebooks. It's a good thing no one is interested in what I do. I think Jago is contemplating asking me to marry him."
I put down the notebook. I didn't want to read about Silva and Jago. It was prying into his life and hers. Well, I had already done the latter. What I really felt, I suppose, was that I was going to read something which I was not going to like.
Jago and Silva! I hadn't thought of that.
I stared at the book in my hand. I shouldn't be reading this. Why had Slack given it to me? Why had Silva given the books to Slack?
There must be a reason.
"I met him today. I went over to the mainland and he came to the inn. He is so distinguished and handsome. I couldn't believe he could be interested in me. We had wine and saffron cakes and we talked so much. Why didn't we hire horses and go riding together, he said.
"What a day it was! We had a snack at the Corn Dolly Inn. A beautiful romantic place with those lovely Stonen Chills on the table and the corn dollies hanging about the place. Cider and pasties. I had never known them taste so good.
"He said: 'We must do this again.'
"Is it possible to be in love so soon?"
She is in love with Michael Hydrock, I thought. Was he in love with her? Or was he merely being his charming, courteous self? Oh poor Silva. I hope she was not badly hurt.
I turned the pages.
"Who wants to write when one is happy? He loves me. He said he does. It is all so exciting. He says we shall be together and everything is going to be different. I talked to him about my father and life at the castle.
"Life is wonderful."
There was a further gap. Then I read:
"The artist was on the mainland today. He asked us to Blue Rock and he was very kind and hospitable. He showed us his studio full of his paintings of birds and pictures of the sea and the islands. He said he hoped we'd come again.
"It was a lovely day. It always is when we are together."
Another gap. Then:
"I wish I hadn't started writing all this now. It seems pointless, I think that before I was just brooding on my unhappiness, enjoying my misery if that's not a contradiction, but it fits the case. Now it's all over. I'm so happy I just love everybody.
"Today I looked up at my father's window and he was there. He looked very ill and I thought: 'Shall I tell him?' But I was afraid to go up. I remembered Fenwick's saying that it would just about finish him off. I wouldn't want that on my conscience. . . now."
There was no more writing in the book.
Although I felt I had come closer to Silva, what had happened on that fateful night of the storm was more than ever a mystery. Why had she taken a boat out when she had known she was risking her life?
There seemed one answer. She had been desperate. Could it possibly have been that after all that sudden and new-found happiness she had been bitterly disillusioned and she had made up her mind to embark onto the sea and let that fierce and entirely indifferent element do what it could with her?
My sad little sister! How I wished I could have been with her to listen to her story of joy and sorrow. I was certain that I should have been able to help her.
I put the exercise books into a drawer and locked it, for I did not want anyone else to read them.
Then I tried to piece together what I had read and ask myself why Slack, who must have known something of her story, had given them to me.
Was it some sort of warning? He was a strange boy. Sometimes I thought he was merely simple as most people believed him to be; at others I thought he was unusually perceptive.
Silva had disappeared on the night of the storm. Was he drawing some comparison between us? Silva went out in a boat presumably and the boat came back without her. One day perhaps another boat would be washed up. On its side would be painted the name Ellen.
She had gone to the mainland and he whose name she did not mention had been kind to her. He loved her. she had written. He had told her so. She was not the kind to imagine that someone loved her. In fact, I think it would be rather difficult for a man to convince her that he did. They had met; they had gone to the Corn Dolly together and he must have told her he loved her then. And yet she had gone out in a boat to face almost certain death.
Why?
In desperation? Had she, the child who had never felt wanted and suddenly found someone whom she believed loved her at last, discovered that she had been deceived. Had the discovery been beyond endurance? Or had someone lured her in some way to go out and risk her life?
A vision of Jenifry's face when she had seen me saying goodbye to Michael Hydrock after he had brought me home to the Island, rose before me.
Gwennol was in love with him; Jenifry wanted the most eligible bachelor in the neighborhood for her daughter. How strange that Silva's boat should have come back without her and that I should be caught in a leaking boat and fancy I saw dissolving sugar there.
I was beginning to feel very uneasy.
Jago rowed me over to Sanctuary Island.
<
br /> "You haven't been on the sea since the accident," he said. "I've noticed that."
"I still remember it vividly. There were some moments of sheer terror when I thought it was the end of me."
"My poor Ellen! But you don't feel afraid with me."
"I've no doubt," I told him, "that if we overturned you'd bring me safely in."
"I only hope, Ellen," he said very seriously, "that whenever you need me I shall be at hand."
We came to the island and he helped me out of the boat. "Do you remember when we came here before?" he asked.
"Yes, it was then that we met the artist from Blue Rock."
"So we did."
"I've seen some of his pictures since in shop windows on the mainland. I thought them rather fine. Do you like them?"
"Why yes. He's quite a good artist, I believe. Ellen, tell me, are you really settling into the life of the Island? Am I right in thinking you are getting rather fond of it?"
"I am very interested, particularly now that I'm getting to know the people. They talk to me and I find that appealing. I suppose it's because it makes me feel I belong."
"You do belong."
"Yes, I suppose so, but I've only just come here and having never known my father ..." I frowned. "He doesn't seem to have been a very popular person."
"You're thinking of your mother's leaving him as she did. As a matter of fact, I knew as soon as I saw her that she would never fit into our way of life. She wanted more gaiety and a more lively existence."
"She didn't get much of that with my grandmother. My father didn't seem to care much for his children and that seems unnatural."
"He was a very sick man."
"I know he had a stroke, but before he was sick he didn't seem very fond of them."
"He was sick for a long time. He was never the same after your mother went, taking you with her."
"He still had my half sister."
"Silva was an odd girl and he never liked her."
"Why not?"
I didn't want to tell him that I had seen the notebooks. That was a secret between Slack and myself, and not knowing that, he could not understand why I had such a clear picture of my father.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Silva was a difficult child. None of the governesses stayed. She was morose and liked to be left alone. She would go off for a whole day and no one would know where she was. But what's the good of going back over all that? It's the future I want to talk about."
"Your future?"
"And yours. In fact I hope they will be intermingled."
I looked startled and he moved nearer to me.
"Everything has been different since you came here. Even the Island has taken on a new meaning for me. I've always loved it, always been devoted to furthering its interests and making it prosperous, but now everything seems so much more important."
My heart started to beat very fast. I had seen the implication in his manner towards me but I had not thought he would express his feelings so soon.
"You can't mean," I began, knowing very well that he did.
He put his arm about me and drew me to him. Then he took my chin in his hand and looked intently into my face.
"Ellen, I can't believe you're indifferent to me."
"Nobody could be indifferent to you, Jago. I'm sure of that."
"You mean they must either hate or love me. Which do you, Ellen?"
"Of course I don't hate you."
"Then you must love me."
"It was you who said that people must either love or hate. There can be a halfway feeling."
"I have no patience with halfway feelings."
"That is not to say they don't exist."
"I love you, Ellen. I want you to marry me, and I don't want any delay. I want to go straight back to the church and put up the banns. I think it has to be three weeks before a wedding. Come, we'll go right away."
He had sprung to his feet but I remained seated.
"You go too fast, Jago," I said. "Remember, it is only a short while ago that I was engaged to be married. I can't make a decision just like that. Besides, I'm not at all sure that marriage would be a good thing."
He stared at me in amazement. "Not a good thing! Between us! My dear Ellen, you can't mean that!"
"I do mean it. Everything has happened too soon for me. This time last year I had not thought of marrying anyone. Then I became engaged and my fiance was shot. And now you are suggesting that I marry you in three weeks' time."
"What has this calculation of a year and weeks to do with it? I love you. You love me. Why should we wait?"
"Because I'm unsure."
"You unsure! You know where you're going, Ellen. You're not some silly simpering female to be pushed in any direction the wind blows her."
"That's exactly so. I wasn't in love with Philip."
"Of course you weren't. You know that now because you realize what it means to love."
"Please listen to me, Jago. I will not be hurried into anything. I'm fascinated by the Island. I'm becoming more and more interested, but I have not thought of marriage and I don't want to hurry into anything. You must understand that."
He knelt on the traveling rug.
"You disappoint me, Ellen," he said.
"I'm sorry, but I must tell you what I feel."
"What do you feel for me?"
"I enjoy being in your company. I like to learn about the Island. In fact I find things here intriguing."
"Including me?"
"Yes, Jago, including you."
"But you don't love me enough to marry me?"
"I don't know you enough."
"You don't know me! After all this time!"
"It isn't very long."
"But I thought you knew all you wanted to know about me."
"I don't think one ever knows all one wants to about another person."
"Now you're being profound. I know enough for both of us. I know I love you. I know that nobody ever meant to me what you do, and I know that I wasn't really living until you came. Isn't that enough, and don't you see that our marriage would be the best thing that could happen to either of us?"
"Why?" I asked.
He looked at me incredulously. "You and I together for the rest of our lives on the Island. Together we'd make it into a paradise."
"Surely if two people are in love where they live is not important."
"Of course it isn't. But there happens to be the Island."
"Jago," I said, rising, "thank you for asking me but. . ."
"What do you mean? Thank you for asking me but! Why thank me for what you must know has been uppermost in my mind for weeks?"
He was standing beside me and he caught me and held me fast. Our faces were close and I could see the heavy lids had come down over his eyes as though he did not want me to see all that was there.
He kissed my lips then and I felt an immediate response to the passion which I sensed in him. It had never been like that with Philip.
I was aware of the screech of a gull overhead—jeering in a way.
I broke free. "No, Jago," I said, "I must think about everything. There's so much to consider. This has brought back what happened in London and I can't forget it."
"That was a fortunate release, my darling. That's how you are going to see it."
"It was not very fortunate for Philip."
"He's dead. Let the past bury itself. You are not going to mourn over that forever?"
"No, I suppose not. When I am sure, I shall be happy. All that will recede, but I must be sure first. Let me explain to you a little, Jago. When Philip asked me to marry him, a bleak future lay before me. I could have been very frightened if I had let myself contemplate it too clearly, but I always pretended to myself that it wouldn't happen. When Philip proposed it was like a miracle . . . too wonderful to be true. It was only afterwards . . . yes, before he died, that I began to have doubts and my childish belief in the future was considerably dimmed. Now I am
here. I love the Island—yes, I do and I have so much enjoyed being with you and if we were to leave each other and never meet again, I should be unhappy. But I'm not sure if that's enough. Give me time to think, Jago. Whether you will give it or not I must have it. Let us go on for a little longer as we have been. Do this for me, Jago. When I'm with you I think I love you, but I have to be sure."
We were standing very close and he held my hands tightly.
"Dearest Ellen," he said. "I will do anything you want."
"Thank you, Jago. Take me back to the Island now. I want to think."
He picked up the rug and slung it over one arm, the other he slipped through mine.
As we went down to the boat the gulls shrieked their melancholy chorus.
He rowed me back in silence and when we entered the castle he said: "Ellen, come to the parlor. There is something I want to give you."
I went with him and from a drawer of his bureau he took out a necklace made of roughly hewn stones strung together on a golden chain.
He held it up. "It's been in the family for three hundred years," he said. "It's the Kellaway Island necklace. Look at these stones—topaz, amethyst, cornelian and agate. They have all been found on the Island. If you go down the shore at the right time you can pick up such stones. Mind you, they have to be looked for."
I took the necklace in my hands.
"It has been worn by Kellaway women through the centuries," he said. "You will give it to our daughter and she will give it to hers, and so it goes on—a link through the ages. And it's significant because it means the wearer belongs to the Island."
"I think it is too soon for me to accept the necklace."
"That's not so." He took it from me and fastened it about my neck. His hands lingered there and when I put up mine to touch the necklace his closed over it. "There. It becomes you. It looks as though that is the rightful place for it. Wear it, Ellen. To please me, wear it."
Lord of the Far Island Page 25