"That would be fun," said Monique. "There was a fortune teller in the town. Madame de Guérin put that out of bounds ... but I believe some of them went."
"It can be very absorbing," he said.
"You mean ... to look into the future?" That was Monique and he leaned forward and took her hand. She gave a little squeal. "Oh ... can you tell the future then?"
"Tell the future? Who can tell the future? Though sometimes there are visions ..."
We were all subdued now. I felt my heart beating wildly. There was something very extraordinary about this encounter.
"You, Mademoiselle," he said, gazing at Monique, "you will laugh through life. You will go back to your family château." He dropped her hand and closed his eyes. "It is in the heart of the country. There are vineyards surrounding it. The pepper pot towers reach to the sky. Your father is a man who makes arrangements worthy of his family. He is a proud man. Will you marry as he wishes, Mademoiselle?"
Monique looked a little shaken.
"I suppose I shall marry Henri ... I quite like him really."
"And your father would never allow it to be otherwise. And you, Frâulein, are you as docile as your friend?"
"It's hard to say," said Frieda in her matter-of-fact way. "I sometimes think I shall do what I please and then when I'm home ... it's different."
He smiled at her. "You do not deceive yourself and that is a great asset in life. You will always know which way you are going and why-although it is not always the path which you would choose."
Then he turned to Lydia. "Ah, Miss," he said, "what is your fortune?"
"Heaven knows," said Lydia. "I imagine my father will be more concerned with my brothers. They're a good bit older than I and they always think boys are more important."
"You will have a good life," he said.
Lydia laughed. "It's almost as though you are telling our fortunes."
"Your fortunes are for you to make,
"I only have certain ... what shall I say ... sensitivities."
"It's Cordelia's turn," said Monique.
"Cordelia's turn?" he said.
"You haven't told her anything yet ... about what's going to happen."
"I have said," he replied mildly, "that that will depend on Cordelia."
"But haven't you anything to tell her?"
"No," he said. "Cordelia will know ... when the time comes."
There was a deep silence. I was very much aware of the quietness of the forest and looming over us the grotesque formation of rock, which one's imagination could easily twist into menacing shapes.
It was Monique who spoke. "It's rather uncanny here," she said and shivered.
Suddenly a sound broke the silence. It was the rather melodious call of the wagoner. His voice seemed to hit the mountain and echo through the forest.
"We should have started back ten minutes ago," said Frieda. "We'll have to hurry."
We all jumped to our feet.
"Goodbye," we said to the stranger.
Then we started down the path. After a few seconds I looked back. He had disappeared.
We were late back but nothing was said and no one asked to see the gloves which we were supposed to have bought in the town.
Elsa came to our room after supper. It was that half hour before prayers which was followed by our retiring for the night.
"Well," she said, "did you see anything?" Her eyes glistened with curiosity.
"There was ... something," admitted Frieda.
"Something ..."
"Well, a man," added Monique.
"The more I think of him," added Lydia, "the more strange he seemed."
"Do tell," cried Elsa. "Do tell."
"Well, we were sitting there ..."
"Lying there," said Frieda who liked details to be exact.
"Stretched out under the tree," went on Lydia impatiently, "when he was suddenly there."
"You mean he appeared?"
"You could call it that."
"What was he like?"
"Handsome. Different ..."
"Go on. Goon..."
We were all silent trying to remember exactly what he had looked like.
"What's the matter with you all?" demanded Elsa. "Well, it was rather strange when you come to think about it," said Monique. "Did it strike you that he seemed to know something about us all. He described the château with the vines and towers."
Frieda said: "Many châteaux in France have their Vineyards and almost all have pepper pot towers."
"Yes," said Monique. "And yet ..."
"I think he was most interested in Cordelia," announced Lydia.
"Why should you think that?" I demanded. "He didn't tell me anything."
"It was the way he looked at you."
"You're not telling me anything," complained Elsa. "I sent you there, don't forget. I've a right to know."
"I'll tell you what happened," said Frieda. "We were silly enough to go to the forest when we might have gone into the town and had some of those delicious cream cakes ... and because we'd been so silly we tried to make something happen. All Chat did was that a man came up, said he liked to hear us laugh and talk for a while."
"Trust Frieda to get it all neatly tied up," said Lydia. "But I can't help thinking that there was more to it than that."
"I reckon he's a future husband for one of you," said Elsa. "That's how the story goes."
"If you believe that why didn't you go and meet yours," I asked.
"How could I get away. I'm watched. They'd suspect me of shirking my duties."
"Rest assured," said Frieda, "that those suspicions will soon be confirmed."
Elsa laughed with us.
She at least was delighted with the excursion.
All through November we were making plans to go home. For me it was a time tinged with sadness. I was going to hate saying goodbye to them all; but on the other hand I was looking forward to going home. Monique, Frieda and Lydia all said we must keep in touch. Lydia lived in London but her family had a country house in Essex where she spent most of her holidays, so we should not be so very far away from each other.
For a few days after that encounter in the forest we talked a great deal about what we called our Pilcher's Peak adventure. We had very quickly transformed it into an uncanny experience and we endowed the stranger with all sorts of peculiarities. He had had piercing eyes which shone with an unearthly light, according to Monique. She exaggerated what he had told her and was beginning to believe he had given her an accurate and minute description of her father's château. Lydia said he had sent shivers down her spine and she was sure he had not been human.
"Nonsense," said Frieda, "he was taking a walk in the woods when he felt like a little conversation with a group of giggling girls."
I wasn't sure what I thought and, although I was aware that the encounter was being considerably embellished, it had made a deep impression on me.
Term ended at the end of the first week in December. As most of us had to travel long distances Madame de Guérin always liked us to get on our way before the snows came too heavily and made the roads impassable.
There were seven English girls who would be travelling on the same route. Frâulein Mainz saw us all onto the train and when we reached Calais it had been arranged for one of the travel agents to see us onto the boat. At Dover our families would be waiting for us.
I had made the journey several times before, but this was to be the last time, and that made it different.
We had a compartment to ourselves and, as we had done the journey before, it was only the younger ones who exclaimed at the grandeur of the mountain scenery and remained at the windows while we travelled through the majestic Swiss countryside. The older ones had grown blasé-myself and Lydia among them.
The journey seemed endless; we talked; we read; we played games and we dozed.