“I thought there was a distant connection.”
He hesitated for a moment, then smiled wryly.
“Oh, there might be. I was telling you about the legends. It is the dangerous occupations. People think of ill luck that could befall them. They talk of black dogs and white hares seen at the mineshafts which are a warning of approaching evil. You must understand that people who are often facing danger look for signs. Now they say that Jermyns and Tregarlands should never have become friendly and, because they have, there will be disaster.”
“Do they really think that my sister’s death is due to that?”
“I am sure they do. They will say that someone brought about this evil.”
“Myself!” I cried.
He nodded and looked at me in an odd sort of way.
“They say it is not right that foreigners should come here and meddle with something that has been going on for generations.”
“Foreigners!”
“Born the wrong side of the Tamar,” he said with a smile.
“That is all ridiculous.”
“Of course. But it is what they believe.”
“But that feud, it’s so absurd. You think so. Everyone with any sense would. Mr. Jermyn does, too.”
“But there are many who don’t. They love their old superstitions. They don’t want them changed. The miners and fishermen don’t. They fear the mines and the sea. Look at the sea now. Do you see that ruffling of the waves? There are a number of what we call white horses. It’s quite rough down there.”
“The wind has sprung up while I have been sitting here.”
“It is very treacherous…unpredictable.” He moved slightly toward me. “It can be smooth, inviting, and then suddenly the wind arises. You haven’t seen what a real storm can be like yet. You haven’t seen fearsome waves…forty-…fifty-feet-high waves. They can lash against the rocks. It is like an enraged monster. Oh, yes, you must be very careful of the sea.”
I felt his eyes on me as he went on: “There is danger down there. Even in this garden. Just imagine if you should lose your footing—a loose stone, a shifting of the earth. It happens. You could go hurtling down…down onto those black rocks.”
I felt a sudden fear as I fancied he moved even closer to me.
I said: “It didn’t occur to me.”
“Well, it wouldn’t. But you must take care. It looks so peaceful now, but things are not always what they seem. Always remember…the dangers of the sea.”
“Mr. Lewyth, Mr. Lewyth, are you there?” One of the maids was coming down the slope toward us. It was as though a spell was broken. I gave an involuntary gasp of relief.
“A terrible thing have happened, sir,” said the maid. “Mr. Dermot has had an accident. He have been took to the hospital.”
“Accident!” cried Gordon.
“Fell from his horse, sir. Mrs. Lewyth did send me to come and fetch you.”
Gordon was already striding up the slope to the house. I followed.
Gordon, Matilda, and I drove to the hospital in Plymouth to which they had taken Dermot. We were not allowed to see him immediately, but we did see the doctor.
“He is badly injured,” we were told.
“He’s not…?” began Matilda.
“He’ll recover, but it is going to be a long time and then, perhaps…”
“Oh, my God,” murmured Matilda.
Gordon said: “You mean it is a permanent injury?”
“It is possible. It involves the spine. It was a very bad fall. It could have killed him.”
“Do they know how it happened?”
“He was apparently galloping too fast and…er …it seems that he was, well, not exactly intoxicated, but…er…not entirely sober either.”
I said: “He has suffered a great grief recently. He lost his wife.”
The doctor nodded.
“You may be able to see him when he comes out of the anesthetic. We had to do an operation—a minor one—but we can see that there is little that can be done.”
“Does it mean he must stay here?”
“Oh, no. He’ll be out of here in a few days…if there is nothing further we can do. A little therapy perhaps. But that is for later. We’ll have to see.”
We were left in a waiting room and told that we should be called when we could see Dermot.
“This is terrible,” said Matilda. “What is happening…? Things haven’t really been right since Annette’s death. It all seems so bewildering.”
“Life is sometimes like that,” said Gordon, glancing at his mother. “This was an accident. No one can be blamed for it.”
“I expect the evil forces will be blamed,” I said.
Gordon nodded. “He might recover,” he said. “Doctors don’t always know.”
It was some time before a nurse came to us. She told us we could see Dermot now, but must not stay too long.
Dermot was lying in a bed in a ward occupied by several others. The curtains about his bed were drawn back by the nurse.
He looked pale and very ill. He smiled at us faintly.
“I’ve made a mess of things,” he said with a weak smile.
“My dear Dermot,” said Matilda, “we are all so concerned for you.”
“I’m still here,” he said almost regretfully.
“What happened?” asked Gordon.
“I don’t know. One moment I was galloping along, and the next I hit the ground. Poor old Sable just went on.”
“I know,” said Gordon. “She came back to the house.”
“I must have been careless,” said Dermot.
“Well, rest now,” soothed Matilda. “You will be all right. But it will take time.”
“Time,” he said, and closed his eyes.
A nurse came to us and signaled that we should leave.
We looked at Dermot. His eyes were closed and he seemed unaware of our departure.
As was expected, there was a buzz of speculation. What was happening up at Tregarland’s? It was clear enough, wasn’t it? Something was wrong. It was one trouble after another. Death for the first Mrs. Tregarland; then the young woman from foreign parts starts meddling, bringing a Jermyn to Tregarland’s. It stood to reason that the ghost was not going to stand by and allow that to happen. The trouble with foreigners was that they did not know anything about the spirit world. This would show them.
There were two young women taken by the sea—though the first was before the meddlesome creature arrived and was just a warning that the quarrel was as fierce as it always had been. Then the master fell off his horse and it was reckoned that it would be a long time before he would be in the saddle again. It was a warning. It was saying clear as the nose on your face: Don’t meddle with what you don’t know.
I felt a great desire to get away from the place. I could, of course, pack and go home tomorrow, but what of Tristan? As Richard would have said, the nanny was quite capable of looking after the child. If only I could take him with me.
There was something else. I should not see Jowan Jermyn, and I should not want that. During this time, my encounters with him had seemed to bring a sort of sanity into my life. He gave the impression that he was concerned for me. He helped me to laugh at the whispering voices; he understood my need to look after Tristan. He took my fears and frustrations and my indecision seriously. He seemed to understand as no one else did.
Dermot came home from the hospital. It was clear that he was badly injured. He walked with great difficulty and he went straight to his bed, for the journey from the hospital had exhausted him.
There was gloom throughout the house. It was the first time old Mr. Tregarland lacked that air of suppressed amusement. He looked really shaken. This was, after all, his only son.
During the days that followed it was brought home to us how incapacitated Dermot was. We had been told that there was little hope that he would regain his full vigor, although the doctors hoped for some improvement. We were warned that it would take a long time.