Harriet stayed on with Carlotta, Benjie and Gregory. She said she wanted to be with her son as long as possible and of course I was delighted, not only that Harriet should stay-she was always an asset at any gathering—but because Carlotta remained too.
Carl was sixteen now, Benjie a year or so older, so they were really quite grown up and were going to the university together in the autumn.
Leigh was talking about the Dower House, a favourite topic of his, and my father was pointing out that some of the land there would need a good deal of treatment before it offered good crops.
Carl said suddenly: “Why don’t you have Enderby Hall, Leigh? That’s a grand house … or was …”
“Enderby Hall,” echoed Leigh. “Hasn’t anyone taken it yet?”
“No,” replied my mother, “and not likely to. It has the reputation of being haunted.”
“What nonsense!” cried Leigh. “It was all right when the Enderbys were there.”
“Oh, that was a great tragedy,” said my mother.
“He was involved in the Rye House Plot with Gervaise Hilton of Grassland Manor,” added my father. “The houses were confiscated then.”
“First, though,” said my mother, “the men were taken away. Poor Grace Enderby was heartbroken. She tried to hang herself. It was in the great hall and she tried to do it from the gallery. The rope wasn’t long enough and she fell to the ground instead of swinging as she had intended to. She didn’t die immediately. Some of the servants said she laid a curse on the place and that her cries can be heard as you pass by at night.”
“So that’s how it got the reputation for being haunted, was it?” asked Leigh.
“No one has heard the cries,” put in my father. “It is always someone who knows someone who did.”
“I think it is often like that with these haunted houses,” Leigh said.
“We always thought it was a strange old place though,” added my mother. “The family had been ardent Catholics and there are said to be hidden places where they used to hide the priests.”
“What a sad story,” said Jane. “I don’t think I should like to go there after dark.”
“Surely you’re not affected by such nonsense,” chided my father.
“It’s all very well to be brave by daylight,” said my mother. “It is a gloomy old place now. The garden’s overgrown. It’s for sale. But who will buy a house where that sort of thing has happened?”
“I think it passed into the hands of some distant cousin of the Enderbys and he wants to get rid of it as fast as he can. He’ll never sell until he clears the garden, which would do a great deal to dispel the gloom and make sure that all that gossip about a ghost is put a stop to.”
“I’d like to go in and look at it,” said Benjie.
“You’d never dare,” challenged Carl.
“Don’t be silly,” retorted Benjie, “of course I would.”
“Well,” I said, “it has stood empty for a long time. If someone would take it and let in the sunshine, it would be just a normal house.”
The conversation turned to the affairs of the country, which were always uppermost in our minds, and the ghostly house and the Enderbys were forgotten.
It was late afternoon of the following day when Sally Nullens came running into the garden, where we were all sitting enjoying the sunshine, with the disturbing news that Carlotta was nowhere to be found.
I was immediately afraid.
I turned to Sally and cried: “But where can she be?”
“She was in her bed having a nap, so I thought. I went in to rouse her and she was not there.”
Carlotta had returned to the nursery when I was married and had been a little resentful about that and was inclined to blame Leigh who, she was afraid, was usurping her place with me.
“She’s probably in the garden somewhere,” said my mother.
“I’ll go and look,” I replied.
“And I’ll come with you,” said Leigh.
We searched the garden, but there was no sign of Carlotta. Then we went into the house and searched every room.
Now I was really alarmed.
“Where can she have got to?” I cried frantically.
Sally Nullens was muttering: “The imp. She didn’t want to go to bed. I had trouble with her. She’s getting above herself, that one. Wants her own way all the time. Said she wanted to go with Carl and Benjie. Young men like them don’t want a baby at their heels.”
“Where are Carl and Benjie?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Sally. “They went off somewhere together about two o’clock. I haven’t seen them since.”
I felt a faint twinge of relief. “She must be with them.”
“She was pestering and they said they wouldn’t take her. And then I came along and said Bed.”
“I think she must have gone with them, Sally,” I said anxiously. “They relented perhaps and took her.”
“I don’t know, I’m sure. I’ll have something to say to her when she comes back, mark my words.”
Sally was worried, I could see.
We went back to the group in the garden.
“Did you find the mischievous creature?” asked Harriet.
“No,” I replied. “Sally thinks she went off with Carl and Benjie.”
“Oh, that’s it. She’s always trying to link up with them.”
“She’s like you, Priscilla,” said my mother. “You always wanted to go where Edwin and Leigh went.”
“Sally is put out. She is supposed to be in bed.”
“Carlotta has an adventurous nature,” put in Harriet. “There will always be some excitement where she is.”
“She’s a spoiled child,” said my father, but there was a hint of indulgence in his voice. I never ceased to marvel at the way she had bewitched him.
We talked of other matters: what was happening at Court, Continental affairs. The name of William of Orange was mentioned as it was frequently nowadays.
It was about an hour later when Carl and Benjie returned.
I ran to meet them.
“Where is Carlotta?” I cried.
They looked puzzled.
“Wasn’t she with you?”
They shook their heads.
Now I was really frightened.
“We had better start searching at once,” said Leigh.
“She can’t have gone far,” Harriet pointed out.
I thought of her wandering in the woods lost. I was terrified of what might befall her. Occasionally gipsies camped in the woods. I had heard stories of their stealing children. I felt sick with horror.
My father said: “We’ll soon find her. We’ll have two separate parties and we’ll scour the neighbourhood. She can’t have gone far.”
I went off with Leigh, Carl and Benjie; my father headed another party.
“I reckon,” said Leigh, “that she has gone somewhere and fallen asleep.”
“Either that or she’s lost,” I said blankly. If the gipsies found her, her clothes would be taken from her. The gold chain which Gregory had given her and which she always wore round her neck would be worth something. Her outstanding beauty would attract them. I imagined their gloating over my beautiful child. What would they do with her? I pictured her, dirty and unkempt, selling clothes pegs and telling fortunes. That would never suit her imperious nature. How rebellious she would be. And what would they do to her?
Leigh was comforting me. “We’ll find her soon. She’s somewhere close. She couldn’t have gone far.”
We searched all round the house and beyond. I said I wondered whether she had tried to get to the sea. She was talking about it yesterday.