Changeling

“We had to go in and sit in the parlor,” said Lucie.

“There were pictures all round the room. Jesus on the cross …”

“And another one carrying a little lamb.”

“And somebody with a lot of arrows sticking out of his body. She asked Leah if our souls were saved.”

“And what did Leah say?”

“She said she looked after us in a right and proper manner,” Lucie told me.

“Mrs. Polhenny was looking at me all the time,” said Belinda.

She and Lucie could say no more because they were laughing so much.

I told my grandmother about it afterwards. “They found it quite hilarious,” I added.

“I am glad they did. I should have thought they would have hated it and wanted to get away.”

“You would think they had been to some entertainment.”

“Well, I’m glad they see it that way. I daresay Leah would like to go and see her mother now and then and if they would go with her willingly, that’s all to the good.”

“It would take Mrs. Polhenny’s attention off Leah perhaps.”

“Yes, that is what I thought.”

The new girl, Madge, was often with the children. They obviously liked her very much. I had seen her in the garden where she had doubtless been sent to bring something in from the kitchen garden, and the children would be with her. I liked to hear their laughter.

My grandmother had noticed, too.

“She is young and full of high spirits,” she said. “I don’t see why she shouldn’t relieve Leah a little.”

“You mean to give Leah time to go off and see her mother?”

My grandmother grimaced. “No. To give her a little time to herself. And it would be good for Madge. She is little more than a child herself and she is far from home.”

I had wanted the girls to enjoy Cornwall and I was delighted that they seemed to be doing so.

I gathered that they often went to St. Branok Pool. They talked about it. They also enjoyed the moors and when we went out together they would lead the way either to the pool or the moors.

There had been a great deal of gossip about people’s seeing white hares and black dogs, not only at Pencarron Mine, but on the disused one on the moors.

I noticed that Belinda seemed to have a particular interest in disaster. She liked to talk about old superstitions. Lucie did, too. Their eyes would grow wide while they discussed the knackers who were reputed to inhabit the mines and could, by some magic they possessed, bring disaster to any miners whom they disliked. It was the same with the fishermen. There were many superstitions about the evil which could befall them if they broke any of the ancient customs.

Down by the pool they made the acquaintance of young Mary Kellaway. She would often come out of Jenny’s old cottage to talk to them.

She was a strange looking child with long straight hair and a sad look in her eyes, which was understandable considering the tragedy in which she had recently become involved.

I discovered that it was she who had told them of the hares and dogs and little old men in the mines.

“It shows what they do,” was Belinda’s verdict. “Mr. Kellaway must have made them angry and then they made the mine fall down on him.”

“That’s nonsense,” I said.

“How do you know?” demanded Belinda. “You weren’t there.”

“Because such things don’t happen. The accident was due to a fault in the mine.”

“Mary says …”

“You shouldn’t talk about it with Mary. She should try to forget.”

“How can she forget it when her house is burned down?”

“She’ll soon have a new house.”

“But you don’t forget …”

How right she was! One did not forget.

My grandmother said she thought it was good that they had made friends with Mary. “I’d ask her over to Cador to play with them but you know what the servants are … and you’d have them saying that if she can come why can’t all the other children in the neighborhood do the same?”

“I think they like seeing her at the pool. I wish they had chosen some other meeting place but of course it is so near the cottage.”

They both told me the story of the wicked monks who would not repent and were warned by Heaven but they went on doing what they shouldn’t and the flood was sent.

“It was like Noah’s,” Lucie told me.

“No it wasn’t, silly,” cut in Belinda. “That was a long time ago. This was when they had monks and things they didn’t have in Noah’s day.”

“How do you know?” demanded Lucie.

“I do know. There wasn’t an ark for them and they were all drowned. They’re still down there at the bottom of the pool … because wicked people don’t always die. They have to go on living in misery which it must be down at the bottom of the pool with all that dirty water. And the bells ring when something is going to happen. I wish I could hear the bells.”

“You wouldn’t want something awful to happen, surely?” I said.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“As long as it didn’t happen to you,” I retorted with a laugh.

I often heard them discussing the bells and I often thought that the reason they went to the pool so frequently was in the hope of hearing them rather than to play with Mary.

I had formed the habit of going in to say goodnight to them when they were in bed.