"Oh, yes."
"So I did well to procure her as your governess?"
"Yes. She has certainly taught me a great deal."
"And you are fond of your brother Luke and of Christobers brother? I fancy you are fond of him too."
I felt myself flush a little.
My father noticed and smiled. "Yes, I am aware of it. Well, he is a good young man. He will work until he has brought Featherston back to what it should be. James Morton says so, and he would know ... Kate, I think your friend Kirk well may be in some danger. What think you of what happened to Isaac Napp?"
A terrible fear took possession of me then. My father realized it and he took my hand and pressed it.
"The man was an informer, a spy of that accursed Gates, who has caused much misery to many. We must do what we can to stop him doing his mischief here."
I did not speak.
"I have news," he said. "Gates is sending men this way."
"Here?" I asked.
"He cannot allow one of his men to be despatched just like that. He will want revenge for the death of Napp."
"But they could not find those who killed him."
My father looked at me sadly. "Napp was indeed a rogue ... and a stranger here until that time. He is no great loss, and whoever sent him on his way doubtless had a good reason for doing so. But you see. Gates cannot allow that to happen to one of his men. It reflects on Gates himself, who considers himself the all-powerful avenger, and for his own sake he must protect his minions."
"So ... they will come here. But they will not find the murderer of Isaac Napp."
"Mayhap not. But they will find someone whom they will accuse of the murder."
"Gh no!" I said. And I heard my voice tremble as I spoke.
"There is a place on the estate," he said, not looking at me. "It is called the Devil's Tower, though no one speaks of it now. I have not heard it mentioned for years. It is said to be haunted. It is more or less a ruin. There is a roof over part of it, so it is secure in some places from the elements. It would provide shelter and, providing a man were not afraid of ghosts, he could be as safe there as anywhere. It is on Rosslyn territory, some way from the house. There is some old story about the place. All old families have these skeletons in their cupboards. Most of them get lost in people's memories as the years go by. I think a wayward daughter of our house was walled up in the Tower by some of her zealous relations. She is the ghost. She would be kind, I am sure, to fellow sufferers from tyranny. No one goes to the Tower now. In fact, the place is so overgrown that one can scarce force a way through to it."
There was meaning in his words. I knew that Oates's men were coming. They must find a scapegoat, and that could well be Kirkwell, who was such a friend of mine. It was certain that Oates's men would look to Kirkwell as one who had reason for hating the man whom he would regard as his father's murderer.
"I would like to show you this place," said my father. "Shall we take a ride together now?"
I said: "Yes, I should like to see the Devil's Tower."
When I left my father I found Christobel and told her where I had been and what my father had said.
"We must not lose any time," she said. "I must talk to Kirk without delay. He is in great danger."
We found him in one of the fields and I told him that my father had news that Oates's men had set out from London and were on their way to us.
"There is only one thing to do," said Christobel. "You must go away, Kirkwell, at once. They will suspect you immediately."
"They'll suspect me if I go away."
"Not if you go now, before they arrive. They will not know that you were aware that they were coming, so they will not think you have left on that account. I think we ought to speak to James. He is very wise, and I am sure he will agree that you must go."
I was in terror lest the men should arrive before Kirkwell could make his arrangements to leave, but I was sure that Christobel was right. He must not be here when they came and he must not appear to have gone away because of them.
When James was with us and heard what we planned, he was in favor of it. He said: "We shall immediately tell everyone we know that Kirkwell has had to go away on urgent business. He has left for the North. He left in such a hurry that there was little time to explain everything. It is to some.farmer in Yorkshire that he has gone."
"Will they not go searching for him?" I asked.
"They may, but they will not find him, for he will be in the Devil's Tower. It is ideal. People don't go near it. The undergrowth is so thick round it that it is forgotten except by those who know it is there."
"Then let us start immediately."
We told everyone we met that Kirkwell had been summoned up north on urgent business.
The Devil's Tower was indeed the ideal hiding place. It was in a remote part of the estate, and no one who had not heard of it would suspect it was there. Perhaps a century or so ago people might have talked of it and avoided going there, but the legend had become forgotten with time and it was only those who had an intimate knowledge of the land who were aware of its existence.
So to the Devil's Tower went Kirkwell. We took blankets and food for him and planned how one of us would visit him once a day, and when Oates's men had gone he would come back as though from his long journey north, and maybe we should not be troubled again by Titus Gates.
Three days after Kirkwell had settled into the Devil's Tower, Titus Oates's men arrived. They stayed at the iim, as they had before. The neighborhood was tense with anxiety. People cast down their eyes and hardly dared look at one another.
Many were questioned. The men came to the Dower House. They questioned Christobel and wanted to know when she had last seen her brother.
Carrie and I listened outside the door. We were in a state of terror.
Christobel was brave, but very frightened—not for herself, I knew, but for Kirkwell.
They also questioned Carrie. She did not know that we had been aware of the men's coming some days before they arrived; nor did she know where Kirkwell was hiding, so she could not be trapped into betrayal.
They questioned me as well.
"Do you know the man Kirkwell Carew?" they asked.
I said I did.
"When did you last see him?"
I told them it was the day before he left for the North.
"Did he go in a hurry?"
I looked puzzled. I did not think he went in a hurry, but he had told us only the day before that he had to go. He was not very pleased, because he was in the middle of restoring one of the houses on the estate, but he said he had better go and get it over with. The repairs would have to wait for his return.
"Did he say when he would return?"
"I think it was when his work up there was finished."
They did not pursue their questions. I had made myself look young and I behaved like a child. I think they accepted me as such.
It was a time of terrible anxiety. Kirkwell's whereabouts were a secret shared by Christobel, James, Luke and myself. Perhaps I should include my father, for, although he remained aloof from the matter, he was after all the one who had suggested that Kirkwell should go and where to.
I shall never forget that time. We took it in turns to visit Kirkwell, just in case one of us should by some remote chance be seen going to the same place too often.
I remember now the eeriness of the place and the fear I felt when approaching it, which was not all due to the danger of the mission.
I made my way through the undergrowth. It was not easy. Branches of shrubs caught at my cloak. I had the feeling that they were trying to hold me back and imprison me. It was quite uncanny. I suppose a kind of aura of horror grows about a place in which something terrible has happened. As I battled my way through the shrubs, I could not stop thinking of the young girl who had been "wayward"—I supposed that meant she had an illicit lover—and had had this dreadful punishment inflicted on her. What was it like, I wondered, to be put into a cavity and have the wall built up around you, leaving you shut in ... alone, without air, without food, to await death?