“My father will be home soon.”
“Oh aye. Reckon he’ll see to it. That’s what I do tell Jim Poldean.”
Jacco turned to me. “Come on. There’s nothing we can do.”
“It’s odd,” I said. “We were talking about the dangers of the sea only a little while ago.”
“Just think. They’ve lost their boat. That’s their living.”
“But our father will help them to get a new one,” I said complacently. I was very proud of him and especially at times like this when I saw how much people relied on him.
We were late for tea which did not please Miss Caster or Mrs. Penlock.
“These lardy cakes should be eaten hot from the oven,” said Mrs. Penlock.
I explained that we were late because when we had come to the quay there were crowds there.
“That were a terrible thing for the Poldeans,” said Mrs. Penlock.
I looked at Jacco as though to say, Trust her to know all about it.
“And,” she went on, “we do know how it come about.”
“There must have been something wrong with the boat,” said Jacco. “The sea’s like a lake today.”
“Boat been tampered with most like.”
“How could that be?”
“Don’t ’ee ask me. There be ways and means. There be people who has powers … and not living very far from here neither. I could tell you something.”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Penlock, what?” I asked.
“Well … I did hear that when Jim Poldean was setting out, who should have been there watching him but Mother Ginny. She did shout something to him … something about Parson having caught a hare in the church.”
“Well,” I asked, “what of that?”
“My patience me! Don’t ’ee know nothing, Miss Annora? ’Tis terrible unlucky to talk of parsons, churches and wild animals to a man just putting out to sea. It’s something that never be done … if it can be helped.”
“But why?”
“There b’aint no whys and wherefores. ’Tis just so. If you have to mention the church, any fool knows ’tis to be called the Cleeta.”
I remembered something Rolf had told me about this not so long ago.
“It be clear as daylight,” went on Mrs. Penlock. “And this has to be stopped … stopped I say before we are all took sick or murdered in our beds.”
Jacco and I gave ourselves up to the succulent joy of lardy cakes, which no one could make quite like Mrs. Penlock.
“They’re gorgeous,” said Jacco.
“Should have been eaten ten minutes ago,” grumbled Mrs. Penlock, not ill-pleased.
Later that day there was a letter from my mother.
Grandfather Dickon had died. They were staying at Eversleigh for a week or so to comfort my grandmother and then they would return home. They were trying to persuade her to come back with them, but she did not seem to want to leave Eversleigh. Helena and Peterkin were there with Amaryllis—and of course Claudine and David. We should all be going for a visit soon.
Jacco and I were sad thinking of our grandfather. We had not seen a great deal of him, but when we had he had made a deep impression on us. He had been a very powerful figure and my mother had told us many stories about him. In her eyes he was a giant among men; he had rescued Grandmother Lottie from the mob during the French Revolution. We had all thought him superhuman and it was a shock to learn that he was not immortal after all.
They would not be home for Midsummer’s Eve. I guessed that Jacco was not altogether displeased by this as he was longing to put his plan into action.
The proposed adventure was absorbing his thoughts. I had to admit that I was looking forward to it, too.
On the night before Midsummer’s Eve, I was awakened suddenly in alarm.
Someone was in my room. I sat up.
“Sh!” said Jacco.
“Jacco, what are you doing here?”
He came to the side of my bed and whispered: “Something’s going on.”
“Where?”
He glanced towards Miss Caster’s room, which was next to mine, and put his fingers to his lips.
“I’m going to see. Want to come?”
“Where?” I repeated.
“Out. Listen. Can you hear?”
I strained my ears. Faintly, from some way off, I heard the sound of voices.
“If you want to come, get dressed. Riding things. We’re taking the horses. If you don’t, keep quiet. I’m going.”
“Of course I’m coming.”
“Come to the stables,” he said, “and whatever you do, don’t make a noise.”
He crept out, and trembling with excitement, I dressed. I had a premonition that something terrible was about to happen … but something which I must not miss.
He was waiting impatiently at the stables.
“Thought you were never coming.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know quite. Somewhere in the woods.”
I saddled my chestnut mare and we rode out.
I could see that Jacco was enjoying this. I followed him. We came to the river and went into the woods.
I said: “It’s near Mother Ginny’s cottage. Do you think … ?”
“It’s been blowing up for weeks,” he said. “Poldean’s boat has brought it to a head.”
We were making our way through the trees to the clearing. The woods had always been mysterious to me. It was only recently that I had been allowed to enter them alone. There had always been fears of our falling into the river, which was fairly wide at this spot where it was about to enter the sea.
I said: “What’s the time?”
“Just on midnight.”
I could now see the light of torches among the trees.
Jacco said: “Be careful. They mustn’t see us.”
We were close to the clearing now and the trees were thinning out. I could see a crowd of people; they were all dancing round a cart and in this cart was a figure. No, it couldn’t be! Mother Ginny!
I gasped.
“It’s not real,” whispered Jacco. “It’s a thing made to look like her.”
There were people I knew there but they looked different in the light of the torches.
“We’ve come just at the right moment,” said Jacco.
“What are they going to do?”
“Watch.”
They had lighted a bonfire in the middle of the clearing and were dancing round it. Then someone took the effigy from the cart and fixed it on the end of a pole.
I gasped in amazement as they dipped the pole into the flames. A cry went up. The figure was lifted high. Its clothes were alight. They chanted; they danced; they screamed. They seemed to be in a frenzy.
I felt sick. I did not want to see any more.
I turned to Jacco and said: “I want to go.”
“Oh, all right,” he replied, pretending to placate me, but I knew that he, too, was sickened by what he had seen.
We rode back cautiously, taking our horses to the stables and then creeping into the house.
Neither of us spoke.
I lay sleepless through the night.
Midsummer’s Eve! There had always been an aura of excitement on this day. Even the young children were allowed to sit up and were taken to the moors to see the lighting of the bonfires.
“’Tis something as has been done in these parts since the beginning of time,” said Mrs. Penlock, “and I see no reason why we should ever stop what’s been done by them as has gone before.”
Nobody else saw any reason why either. The usual excitement was there but something more besides. There was a feverish expectation in the kitchen and it mounted throughout the day. I could hardly wait for the evening to come and on the other hand I was filled with an inexplicable apprehension.
I was up early and went down to the harbour. I saw Betty Poldean there. There was a wild light in her eyes.
“Good day to ’ee, Miss Annora,” she said.
“Good day, Betty,” I replied. I hesitated. I wanted to say something about her father’s boat but I did not know how to. Instead I tried to comfort her with a reference to my parents’ return, which would be soon now. “My father will want to know all that has been happening while he has been away,” I added significantly.