Marianne

'Tomorrow – during the burial – try and faint at the church—'

She looked round in surprise but all she saw was the pious face of a little old woman whose nose all but touched her chin, mumbling prayers through toothless gums. Only, a little way away, she saw the sailor's broad back moving to a place among the men.

To Marianne, the wake was almost intolerable. She heard nothing but the old woman's funeral chant, nibbled a little at the customary meal which was served at midnight, and certainly she spared not a thought for the dead who in any case scarcely deserved it. Black Fish's words went round and round in her head, putting her in a fever of apprehension. He had asked her to faint in church but that was a great deal harder than it looked. Marianne had fainted only once before in her whole life and that was at the moment when, swept overboard from the Seagull and half drowned, she had been hooked by the wrecker's gaff. Then, pain and suffocation had made her lose consciousness but how did one set about fainting convincingly in cold blood? Occasionally, in England, she had witnessed frail, delicate creatures swooning gracefully at the right moment, while losing none of their fresh complexions, and had guessed readily that it was all put on, but this had to be a really convincing faint, something to create a stir, not a mere gentle swoon. Well, she would do her best and leave the rest to heaven.

She was so deep in her thoughts that it was not until she reached the door of her own room that she saw that Gwen had followed her. Only the men were now keeping up the wake. The women had been given permission to retire to rest. But when the girl seemed about to come in with her, Marianne objected.

'This is my room,' she said curtly.

'It is mine, too, for tonight. And don't think I'm enjoying it. I'm carrying out Morvan's orders, that's all, and I can't say I'm sorry he's got suspicious of you at last!'

The girl's insolent and familiar tone which showed that she no longer felt the need for circumspection, made Marianne's aristocratic blood rise. If Gwen wanted a quarrel, she would get one. Seizing her abruptly by the arm Marianne hustled her into the room more quickly than she might have wished. Then she closed the door carefully behind her.

'Something tells me he would do well to be suspicious of you too, my girl! And since we are to finish the night together, we may as well make the most of it and have it out once and for all!'

This abrupt beginning had at least the advantage of disconcerting Gwen. A shadow of cunning and mistrust spread over her pretty face.

'Have it out? Have what out?'

'Your behaviour! It seems to me there is plenty to say about that. So, you've come to tell me that Morvan does not trust me. And what is the reason? Because Jean Le Dru has escaped? If that is it, he is mistaken. I had nothing to do with it, I cannot say the same for you!'

'And why not, pray?'

'Because you let him go!'

A moment earlier, Marianne had been by no means certain but now that she had spoken the words aloud she saw to her surprise that she had always known it. In fact, the look on Gwen's face was an admission. Marianne went on without giving her time to prepare.

'No use denying it. I know.'

'How do you know?' Gwen said, abandoning contradiction.

'That is my business. I know and that should be enough for you. But what I don't know, is why you did it. And that is something I should be very glad to know.'

Gwen smiled nastily. 'Go and ask Morvan! You'll get nothing out of me.'

'Ask Morvan? That may not be such a bad idea. But don't expect me to believe that he had anything to do with it. But after all, why not appeal to him. I'll tell him—'

'That you are no more the princes' agent than I am! He's begun to suspect already, but I daresay he'd be glad to know for sure. And then tomorrow there'll be a nice meal for the fishes!'

Marianne did not flinch at this. She even permitted herself the luxury of a smile.

'Why not? I have nothing to lose, I have lost it all already. But I can tell him that you were the one that let his prisoner go – a prisoner who served that Surcouf whom he seems to dislike so heartily – and it may be that the fishes will get a double ration. I wish you could have seen him out on the headland when his prisoner sailed past thumbing his nose at him!'

Without bothering to check the effect of her words on Gwen's face, Marianne walked over to the hearth, picked up the tongs and began teasing some life into the still glowing embers. A meditative silence fell between them. Marianne busied herself putting more logs on the fire, waiting patiently for the other girl to make up her mind. At last:

'What do want to know?' Gwen muttered sullenly.

'I told you. Why did you help Jean to escape?'

'Because you needed him! I saw you going out to him and I followed you. I heard what you said – nearly all of it!'

'Well?' Marianne said calmly.

'So I realized you would be lost without him, that you needed him to lie for you. I went in to him after you'd gone. He was asleep and I had quite a job to wake him. But, once he was awake, he was very interested to hear what I had to say.'

'And what had you to say?'

'That you had been lying to him. That you were an English spy on your way to St Malo. That your purpose was to gain an introduction to Surcouf by telling some trumped up hard luck story – everyone knows how softhearted he is – and then use your charms on him to make him stop his ships attacking the English. You are quite pretty enough to do it and though the king of the Corsairs may not be very young, he still has an eye for beauty—'

'And he believed you?' Marianne cried, remembering bitterly all she had done to earn the Breton's trust.

'Straight off! Your tale about the duel was a bit hard to swallow too! And he'd seen for himself how far you'd go to get a man on your side. Besides, we are both Bretons after all. We stand up for one another. It wasn't very difficult. Your story was too farfetched. The only piece of luck was in guessing you were going to St Malo when you were wrecked.'

It was all Marianne could do not to give way to utter fury. Everything she had done had been turned against her. Between them, they had made a complete fool of her. So that was all the trust that could be placed in a man's word? No sooner was she out of his arms than Jean was ready to believe everything this girl told him simply because they came from the same land? Or had Gwen paid the same price? But Marianne was making rapid progress in the art of self-control. She merely shrugged and glanced at her companion with contempt.

'Congratulations! You are cleverer than I thought. Now, tell me, what harm have I done you to make you so determined to destroy me? Quite unwittingly, I borrowed your dress. That is a slender grudge!'

'And Morvan? Morvan never took his eyes off you, he cast me aside! You think I would let you take my place?' Gwen flung back savagely.

'Your place? An enviable one to be sure! The mistress of a highway robber, a wrecker who will end his days at a rope's end! It would have been easier for you to help me escape!'