We were closer than ever after our talk in the graveyard. Mellyora wanted to make believe that I was her sister. I was nothing loath. When I brushed her hair that night I started to talk about Justin St. Larnston.
"What do you think of him?" I said, and I saw the quick color in her cheeks.
"He's handsome, I think."
"More so than Johnny."
"Oh ... Johnny!" The tone was contemptuous.
"Does he talk to you much?"
"Who ... Justin? He's always kind when I go there, but he's busy. He's working. He'll graduate this year and then he'll be home all the time."
She was smiling secretly, thinking of the future when Justin would be home all the time. Riding through the country one would encounter him; when she called with her father he would be there.
"You like him?" I said.
She nodded and smiled.
"Better than ... Kim?" I ventured.
"Kim? Oh, he's wild!" She wrinkled her nose. "I like Kim. But Justin, he's like a ... knight. Sir Galahad or Sir Launcelot. Kim is not like that."
I thought of Kim's carrying Joe through the woods and to our cottage that night. I did not believe Justin would have done that for me. I thought of Kim's lying to Mellyora about the boy who had fallen off the tree.
Mellyora and I were like sisters; we were going to share secrets, adventures, our whole lives. She might prefer Justin St. Larnston. But Kim would be my knight.
Miss Kellow had one of her bouts of neuralgia, and Mellyora, who was always sympathetic towards the sick, insisted on her lying down. She herself drew the curtains and gave Mrs. Yeo orders that she was not to be disturbed until four o'clock when tea was to be taken to her.
Having looked after Miss Kellow, Mellyora sent for me and said that she fancied a ride. My eyes sparkled because naturally she could not go unaccompanied and I was sure she would prefer my company to Belter's.
Mellyora mounted her pony and I was on Cherry who was used for the pony cart. I hoped I should be seen by some of the St. Larnston people as I rode through the village, particularly Hetty Pengaster whom I had noticed more since I was aware of Johnny St. Larnston's interest in her.
However, we were only seen by a few children who stood aside as we passed; the boys pulled their forelocks and the girls curtsied—a fact which pleased me.
In a short time we were on the moor and the beauty of the scenery took my breath away. It was awe-inspiring. There was no sign of any dwelling, nothing but moor and sky and the tors which here and there rose up from the moorlands. The scene could, I knew, be somber in shadow; on this day it was sparkling, and as the sun caught the little rivulets, which here and there tumbled over the boulders, it turned them to silver; and we could see the moisture on the grass shining like diamonds.
Mellyora lightly touched her pony's flanks and broke into a canter; I followed and we left the road and went over the grass until Mellyora drew up before a strange formation of stone and as I came up behind her, for her pony was fleeter than mine, I saw that there were three slabs of stone standing upright in the ground supporting a slab which was resting on top of them.
"Eerie!" commented Mellyora. "Look round. There's not a sign of anyone. We're here, Kerensa, you and I, alone with that. Do you know what it is? It's a burial ground. Years and years ago ... three or four thousands of years before Christ was born, the people who lived here made that grave. You couldn't move those stones if you tried for the rest of your life. Doesn't it make you feel ... strange, Kerensa ... to stand here, beside that and think of those people?"
I looked at her; with the wind tugging at her fair hair which fell in curls beneath her riding hat she was very pretty. She was earnest, too. "What does it make you feel, Kerensa?"
"That there isn't much time."
"Much time for what?"
"To live ... to do what you want ... to get what you want."
"You say strange things, Kerensa. I'm glad you do. I can't bear to know what people are going to say next. I do with Miss Kellow and even Papa. With you I'm never sure."
"And with Justin St. Larnston?"
She turned away. "He hardly ever notices me to speak to," she said sadly. "You say there isn't much time, but look how long it takes to grow up."
"You think so because you're fifteen and each year that passes seems long when you have only lived fifteen years and you've only got fifteen to compare it with. When you're forty or fifty—one year seems less because you compare it with the forty or fifty you've lived."
"Who told you?"
"My Granny. She's a wise woman."
"I've heard of her. Bess and Kit talk of her. They say she has 'powers,' that she can help people... ." She was thoughtful. Then she said: "This is called a quoit. Papa told me that they were built by the Celts, the Cornish, who have been here much longer than the English."
We tethered our ponies for a while and sat leaning against the stones while they nibbled the grass and she talked to me of the conversations she had had with her father about the antiquities of Cornwall. I listened intently and I was proud of belonging to a people who had inhabited this island longer than the English and who had left these oddly disturbing monuments to their dead.
"We can't be far from the Derrise country," said Mellyora at length, rising to indicate that she wanted to mount. "Don't tell me you've never heard of the Derrises. They're the richest people in the neighborhood; they own acres and acres."
"More than the St. Larnstons?"
"Much more. Let's go. Let's get lost. It's always such fun to get lost and find your way after."
She mounted her pony and we were off, she leading.
"It's rather dangerous," she called over her shoulder, more concerned for me, who was not so expert, than for herself, and brought her pony to a standstill. I came up beside her and we walked our ponies over the grass.
"You can easily get lost on the moor because there is so much that looks alike. You have to find a landmark ... like that tor over there. I think it's Derrise Tor and if it is I know where we are."
"How can you know where you are if you're not sure it's Derrise Tor?"
She laughed at me and said: "Come on."
We were climbing as we made our way to the tor; it was stony country' now and the tor itself was on a hillock; a strange, twisted shape in gray stone that, from a distance, could be mistaken for a man of giant proportions.
We dismounted once more, tethered the ponies to a thick bush, and together we scrambled up the hillock to the tor. It was steeper than we had thought and when we reached the top Mellyora, looking like a dwarf beside a giant, leaned against the stone and cried excitedly that she was right. This was the Derrise country.
"Look!" she cried; and following her gaze I saw the great mansion. Gray stone walls, battlemented towers, a massive fortress looking like an oasis in a desert, for the house was surrounded by gardens; I glimpsed trees laden with fruit blossom, and the green of lawns. "Derrise Manor," she informed me.
"It's like a castle."
"It is, and though the Derrises are said to be the richest people in East Cornwall, they're doomed, some say."
"Doomed with a house like that and all those riches?"
"Ah, Kerensa. You always think in terms of worldly possessions. Don't you ever listen to Papa's sermons?"
"No, do you?"
"No, but I know without listening about treasures on earth and all that. In any case, for all their money the Derrises are doomed."
"A at sort of doom?"
"Madness. There's madness in the family. It comes out every now and then. People say that it's a good thing there aren't any sons to carry on the line and that this generation will see the end of the Derrises and their curse."