I heard his footsteps. The door was opened and he stood there.
Just at that moment there was a shout. My father and Mr. Forby were galloping towards the house.
“No, no!” I cried.
Romany Jake looked at me and the pain in his eyes hurt me more deeply than I had ever been hurt before.
They had leaped from their horses. Mr. Forby produced a gun.
“It’s all up,” he shouted.
I felt as if I were going to faint. My father put his arm round me. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m here.”
Two men appeared as if from nowhere. I had never seen them before but I knew that they were Mr. Forby’s assistants.
I could not bear to see what was happening.
My father said: “I’ll take my daughter home.”
I turned to Romany Jake. I could not speak. I shook my head. I could scarcely see him. My eyes were full of tears … tears of horror, remorse, frustration … and deep sorrow. I wanted above all things to talk to him, to explain. I could not bear him to think that I had betrayed him.
Quietly I rode back with my father.
We went to the stables and my father lifted me out of the saddle. He held me against him. He was not naturally demonstrative. The grooms took our horses and we went into the house.
My father said: “I think you had better tell me, don’t you? What is your part in all this?”
I said: “We’ve got to save him.”
I wanted to talk to him. All my life he had been the most powerful being in the world. We all knew of how he had brought my mother out of France: he had always behaved as though he were a superior human being with such conviction that we had believed him to be.
Now I thought: He can save Romany Jake. He was my hope. I had to let Romany Jake know that I had not betrayed him. What had he thought when he opened the door and saw me and the men behind me? What could he have thought but one thing? That I had betrayed him.
“Come into my study,” said my father. “You can tell me all about it.”
When we were there he shut the door and said: “Well?”
“It was not murder,” I told him. “It was not what you think. The squire’s nephew was going to rape the gypsy girl. Jake found them. There was a fight and the nephew was killed during it.”
“Who told you this?”
“He did.”
“You mean … the gypsy?”
“He’s not a real gypsy. He joined them because he wanted to be free.”
“You seem to know a lot about him.”
“Why were you there … behind me?”
“I was riding with Forby. We went out together and saw you turn in at Grasslands. I said, ‘That’s my daughter,’ and we rode after you.”
“Why did you do that… oh why?”
“My dear girl, we were going to ask at Grasslands if anyone had seen the gypsy.”
“But no one was there. Dolly and the servants were at Enderby.”
“I thought some of the servants might have been there. They knew him … from when he was here before.”
I buried my face in my hands. I felt so wretched.
“Come on,” he said. “Explain.”
“I went to Grasslands to shelter from the storm. I was going to stand under the porch till it was over. He was there. I thought I saw someone at the window and he saw me. He trusted me …”
“You mean you spoke to him?”
“Yes. I went into Grasslands and he told me what had happened … how he had killed that man. He said there would be no mercy for him. He, the gypsy, had killed the squire’s nephew. I wanted to warn him that that man was in the neighbourhood and had his men all along the coasts. He was going to Harwich after dark. He would have walked right into the trap. And that is just what he did, and he will think that I…”
“You must not upset yourself. You did not mean to betray him.”
“But I did.”
“No, no. It just happened.”
“What will they do to him?”
“They’ll take him to Nottingham to face trial.”
“And they’ll find him guilty.”
“He has killed a man. He does not deny it.”
“But it was not murder.”
“It is the usual term for describing such an action.”
“But you don’t see? There was this girl… What will they do to him?”
“Hang him, I expect.”
“They must not.”
“My dear Jessica, this man is nothing to do with you. A wandering gypsy. Colourful, I admit. Handsome … not without charm. This time next year you’ll be wondering who he was.”
“I shall never forget that he will believe I betrayed him. He trusted me.”
“You foolish girl. You did no such thing. You just went there to warn him and we happened to be behind you.”
“But he will think …”
“Very soon he will be past thinking.”
“Oh, don’t talk like that, Father. I want you to save him.”
“I? What power should I have to save him?”
“When I was little I used to think you could do anything you wanted to. I thought you could make it rain if you decided to. I thought you could do just anything.”
“My dear innocent child, you know differently now.”
“I know you can’t interfere with the elements, but I know there is very little else you cannot do if you really want to.”
“I’m a lucky man to have a daughter who thinks so highly of me. She is very wise and almost correct. But at least you know I can’t interfere with the weather. Nor can I with the law.”
“I don’t agree.”
“Oh?”
“Laws are man-made.”
“So it is only the gods I can’t defy. You think I can cope with everything else?”
“Father, wonderful, dear, clever Father, you can do something.”
“Dearest daughter, no blandishments you can offer me would enable me to save a man who is a self-confessed murderer.”
“The circumstances make it no real murder. He had to save that girl. He is chivalrous. Do you remember when we faced the gypsies … you and I together and he was afraid of my getting hurt. I may have saved your life then.”
“You think the gypsies would have murdered me if you hadn’t been there to save me?”
“It could have happened.”
He was silent for a while.
“There are means of influencing a court,” I said.
“Bribery? Corruption? These things exist. Are you suggesting that I, a law-abiding Englishman, should commit such crimes?”
“You could do something to save him. If the judge knows that he killed this man defending a girl from rape … doesn’t that count?”
“H’m,” he said. “A gypsy … the nephew of a squire …”
“That’s just it,” I cried indignantly. “Suppose a nephew of a squire had killed a gypsy who was trying to rape his wife …”
“Ah, there you have a point.”
“If this man hangs I shall never be happy again.”
“You talk wildly. You’re only a child, though I must say you make me forget it at times. How old are you. Eleven?”
“Nearly twelve.”
“Heaven preserve us. What will you be at eighteen?”
“Please, Father …”
“Jessica, my dear?”
“Will you do something for me … the best thing in the world you could possibly do. Will you help me save this man?”
“There is little I can do.”
“There is something then?”
“We could find the girl. Perhaps bring her forward.”
“Yes, yes,” I said eagerly.
“I’ll go to Nottingham.”
I threw my arms round his neck. “I knew you could do it.”
“I don’t know what I can do. I am just being bullied into taking actions which I feel cannot be fruitful—and all because of my over-bearing daughter.”
“So you are going to Nottingham. Father, I am coming with you.”
“No.”
“Oh yes, please … please. I want to be there. Don’t you see, I must be there. He must know that I did not betray him. If he thought that, I could never be happy again … not in the whole of my life. So … I am coming with you to Nottingham.”