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My thoughts went back to that day when he had found me caught by the tide. He had gone to great efforts to save my life. But he did not want to be rid of me. I did not stand in his way.

It was hard to believe such a thing of someone one knew. But how well did I know him? He had always been something of an enigma and—I had often felt—a little sinister. Or was I imagining that now?

I had slept on the divan for two nights and this was the third.

There was no moon but the sky was cloudless and the stars bright.

I was looking out of the window at one which was particularly bright—a planet possibly. I remembered Dorabella’s saying to me on such a night: “That’s God’s eye watching us. He saw you take that cake when Cook wasn’t looking. You stuffed it into your pocket. He wrote it down in his little book and you’ll answer for it one day.” And I had retorted: “You ate most of it, so you’ll suffer more.” “It’s not eating it that counts, it’s stealing it,” was her reply.

Memories of Dorabella would go on like that for ever.

A stair creaked. I was alert. My heart was beating fast as I sat up in bed listening. There it was again. Stealthy steps coming toward the nursery!

I slipped out of bed and stood behind the door. I was there just in time before it was slowly, cautiously, opened.

I could not believe this was happening, although I had been waiting for it. It was like a performance which I had been rehearsing. I saw the pillow first…the whiteness was clear in the starlight.

Then, like a dream—a nightmare, really—I saw that what we had imagined would happen was taking place in actual fact.

A figure had moved toward the cot, bending over the sleeping child. I ran forward crying, “Nanny, Nanny! Quick…!”

The figure turned sharply. Not Gordon. Matilda!

Nanny Crabtree was there…a walking stick in her hand, ready to strike.

Matilda Lewyth turned to face us. Her eyes were wild with what seemed to me like madness.

“What…what do you think you are doing…?” she cried.

“What are you doing here?” said Nanny.

“Get out,” cried Matilda. “Get out…both of you.”

“It is you who will have to get out of my nursery,” said Nanny Crabtree sharply. “How dare you come in here and try to kill my baby?”

“What are you talking about?”

Matilda had dropped the pillow. She fell into a chair and covered her face with her hands.

“Nanny,” I said. “Go and wake Mr. Lewyth. I think he is the one who will know what is best to be done about this.”

“You watch then and give me that pillow.”

Matilda and I were alone and she lowered her hands and looked at me.

I said slowly: “You were going to kill him. You were going to kill Tristan. You thought it would be easy. You were going to pretend that what happened to Mrs. Pengelly’s baby happened to him.”

She did not answer.

“And the others…” I said. “Matilda, what does it mean?”

But I knew what it meant. Jowan’s discovery had made it clear. She wanted Tregarland’s for her son, hers and James Tregarland’s, and she had been ready to remove anyone who stood in his way. She, who had seemed so gentle, so self-effacing, so eager to please, was a murderess.

How thankful I should always be to Jowan. But for his warning Tristan would have died tonight.

I shall never forget Gordon’s coming into that room. He took one look at his mother. I knew that Nanny had told him what had happened. And what I saw in his face, although it was acute horror, was not surprise.

He was clearly deeply shocked. He went to her and put an arm round her.

“Mother,” he murmured. “Mother…oh, what have you done?”

She began to sob tempestuously. He comforted her and turned to us.

“I’ll take her to her room. I’ll give her something to make her sleep. She’ll go mad if I don’t. Oh, my God, this is terrible. Please, let me take her away. I’ll come back. There are things I can tell you. I want you please to try and understand.”

Nanny Crabtree said: “My baby could have been killed!”

Matilda was shaking. I thought she would have some sort of fit. She began to tear at her clothes and her hair in a frenzy of madness. She threw herself at Gordon.

“It was for you,” she said. “For you…my boy. It was your right…”

He tried to soothe her. I had never witnessed such a harrowing scene.

His arm around his mother, Gordon led her away.

Nanny and I went over to Tristan’s cot. He had slept through it all.

“You were right then,” said Nanny. “Thank God you were here. She’s mad, that woman. I know madness when I see it, and I’ve seen it tonight. Her of all people. You look shaken, dear. And no wonder. You did well. To think of what might have been. He’s shook up, too. Seemed to me as if he knew what she might be up to. Do you think we ought to wake someone else…in case he comes back and kills us?”

“There’s only Mr. James Tregarland. We don’t want any of the servants in this. He could have attacked us already if he were going to. As a matter of fact, I think he is a very worried man. I have misjudged him. She has been the one…and there is madness there…”

Nanny was looking down on Tristan.

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