He said a few words on the topic which was on everybody’s lips: the gale.
“It be hoped we don’t have another just yet. They’m got a habit of coming in twos and threes. Started late this year.”
We chatted for a while and then I was ready to leave.
The air was fresh. I could smell the sea. The wind was coming in—not exactly gentle but exhilarating.
I turned away from the sea. I decided to explore a little inland today.
I rode along thoughtfully. I was thinking of Dorabella and could not help wondering how she would settle into life here. She was ecstatically happy just now and would be until the wedding. And then? I wondered.
I liked Dermot, but against the background of his home, it seemed that there was something lightweight about him. In Germany he had been so self-sufficient. The manner in which he had brought us out of the forest had given him a knightly and masterful image in our eyes. I kept seeing him in contrast to Gordon Lewyth, who was so absorbed in the estate that he could only be mildly interested in visitors—except my father, who could talk with him on his own subject.
It was strange how people could change when seen against a different background. I tried to brush off feelings of uneasiness which had come to me since I had arrived in this place.
I had mounted a slight incline and come to a winding path. I had not been this way before.
The rain which had accompanied last night’s gale had made the countryside glisteningly fresh. It was a pleasure to inhale the scents of the trees and shrubs mingling with that of the damp earth.
It was quiet apart from the soughing of the light wind in the trees making a soft moaning sound.
I pulled up and looked round.
I was thinking: Two more days and we shall be going home.
When I was away from all this I should see it more clearly. I would talk to my parents and I would discover what they felt about the situation. One thing was certain: They could not share my feelings, for they would have shown them if they had; and they seemed quite contented.
There was a fork at the end of the road. I pulled up, wondering whether to take the right or left turn.
I decided on the right.
I rode on, still thinking of Dorabella. She really knew so little of them. His family showed no objections, but I was uneasy. What was it? My overactive imagination? My sense of melodrama? Was it because I was going to lose my sister…well, not exactly lose her, but our lives would no longer be close as they had been until now? The parting would be exciting to her. But what of me?
It was selfish in a way. Was that why I was trying to convince myself that it might not be right for her?
I had come to an open space bordered by trees. There was nothing growing there. Commonland, I supposed.
Starlight threw back her head. She was tired of ambling. She wanted movement. Almost before I could indicate that I agreed with her, she had broken into a canter and we started across the field. I was not sure how it happened. One never is on such occasions. Time itself seemed to slow down. I did see the tree…but not until it was too late. It seemed to sway before my eyes and then it was lying right across my path.
Starlight pulled up sharply and I felt myself thrown sideways. Fortunately she immediately stood perfectly still. I slipped rather inelegantly out of the saddle and fell to the ground. I could sense the tension in the mare, but she was well trained. If she had galloped off at that time I should have been badly injured, for my foot was caught in the stirrup. Hastily I dislodged it and just at that moment I heard the sound of hoofbeats.
As I scrambled to my feet I saw a rider coming toward me. He pulled up sharply, slipped out of the saddle, and gazed at me in horrified surprise.
Then he cried: “Are you all right?”
“I think so.”
“Any pain anywhere?”
“I don’t think so. I just slid down.”
He looked at me anxiously for a moment. “Seems all right. Nothing broken…”
“Oh, no. It wasn’t violent enough for that. My horse was standing still when I fell.”
He laid a hand on Starlight and said: “She did well. Didn’t you see the tree?”
“It fell just as we came up.”
“That gale,” he said, and added: “Look, she’s cast a shoe.”
“Oh, dear. What, er…?”
“You can’t go far like that.”
I looked at him blankly.
“The smithy is close by,” he said. “He’d shoe her for you. It’s the only thing to do.”
I looked perplexed, and he went on: “You’re new here?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so. Staying nearby, are you?”
“Yes. At Tregarland’s.”
“Oh.” He looked amused, and regarded me thoughtfully. “There’s only one thing to do. If you are feeling up to it, I’ll take you along to the smithy. It’s fortunate for you that you didn’t take a toss. She must have pulled up with some precision.”
He turned to Starlight.
“You’re a good old lady, you are. Full marks.” The mare seemed to understand. She nuzzled her nose in his hand and he patted her again.
“She’ll be all right,” he went on. “We’ll get her to the smithy. Let’s see if you are all right, too.” He looked at me steadily. “Sure there’s no pain anywhere?”
“No, none. I’m a little shaken, I suppose.”
“That’s natural.”
“You’re very kind.”
“I’m responsible in a way. That tree’s on my land.”
“Your…land…?”
He smiled ruefully. “Actually, you’re trespassing.”
“Oh…I’m sorry. Then you must be…”
“Jowan Jermyn. You look taken aback.”
“I…had heard your land adjoined Tregarland’s. I am so sorry.”
“I apologize on behalf of my tree. Now, are you sure you’re all right? If so, let’s go. The sooner that mare gets a new shoe the better.”
I took stock of him as we walked along. He was as tall as Gordon Lewyth, but he lacked Gordon’s massive frame, and was rather slender. He had regular features, merry blue-gray eyes and an easy-going, pleasant expression. I thought: So this is the enemy? How fortunate that he does not extend his venom to Tregarland guests.
I was still shaken by my fall and this following on immediately made me feel a little light-headed.
As we walked across the field, he said: “Something will have to be done at once about that tree. Others on the estate may be in a similar state. Very dangerous. The gales here are a menace.”
“I imagine so. Something happened on the Tregarland farm. A roof or a fence or something.”
“Not only theirs, I imagine. How are you feeling now?”
“All right, thank you.”
“You’re shaken up a bit, I expect. You need a stiff brandy; there’s an inn close to the blacksmith’s shop…appropriately called Smithy’s. We’ll look in there and get that brandy.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you. I should have been completely bewildered if you hadn’t come along.” Then I found myself laughing.
“It is amusing?” he said.
“Yes. This morning, in the town, I dropped my glove and, because I picked it up myself, I was told I should meet a stranger whom it would be better for me not to. It seems like a reversal of the prophecy.”
“Well, if that tree hadn’t fallen, we shouldn’t have met in the field. So you could say it was right in a way.”
“I think we should have passed each other somewhere near and you would have told me that I was trespassing. So you could say in another way that she was right.”
“I am sure I should have been too polite to mention it. Ah, here is the smithy. I told you it wasn’t far.”
He took Starlight from me and led her into the blacksmith’s shop. The blacksmith was a ruddy-faced man with black hair and bright black eyes.