“Yes, we have come from Plymouth. Last night we rested at a most indifferent inn. The beds were hard and the pork too salt, but I scarcely noticed so eager was I to come to Castle Paling.”
“What great good fortune that you found us here. We are on a visit»
“Of course. Your home would be at Trystan Priory. How is the good Fennimore?”
“At sea at the moment. We expect him home before long.»
“How I shall enjoy seeing you all again!”
“Tell us what has happened.”
Melanie was smiling. “I know how you are feeling, seeing each other after all these years. But, Senara, you must be weary. I will have a room made ready for you and your daughter-and you are hungry, I’ll dareswear.»
“Oh, Melanie, you were always so good, so practical. And, Connell! I am forgetting you and the dear children. But I am hungry and so I know is my daughter. If we could wash the stains of travel from our hands and faces and if we could eat some of this delicious-smelling food ... and then perhaps talk and talk of old times and the future.”
Connell came to stand beside his wife. He said, “Call the servants. Let them make ready for our guests.”
Melder, good housewife that she was, was already leaving us to issue orders. “We’ll hold back the meal,” said Melanie. “In the meantime come to my room and you can wash there. Your rooms will not be ready yet.”
She and my mother went out with the newcomers and silence fell on the table.
‘Who are these people?” asked Rozen. “Mother and Aunt Tamsyn seem to know them well.»
“The elder one was born here at Castle Paling,” said Uncle Connell. “Her mother was the victim of a shipwreck and was washed up on the coast. Senara was born about three months after. She lived here all her childhood and when our mother died our father married Senara’s mother.”
“So this was her home.”
“Yes, it was her home.”
“And she went away and hasn’t been heard of until now?»
“It’s a long story,” said Connell. “She went away to many one of the Puritans. I think she went to Holland. No doubt we’ll hear.”
“And she’s come back after all these years! How long is it since she went away?”
Connell was thoughtful. “Why,” he said calculating, “it must be nearly thirty years.”
“She must be old... this Senara.”
“She would have been no more than seventeen when she went.”
“That would make her forty-seven. It cannot be so.”
“She would doubtless have means of keeping herself young.”
“How, Father?” asked Rozen.
“Senara was always a sly one. The servants used to think that she was a witch.”
“How exciting!” cried Gwenifer.
“There was a lot of talk at the time about witches,” said Connell.
“You know how now and then there seems to be a fashion for it. The late King was a bit of a fanatic about them. People round here were certain that Senara’s mother was a witch and that can be dangerous. She went away.»
“What became of her?”
“It was never known. But after she’d gone they came to the castle to take Senara.
You see, her mother had been washed up by the sea on Halloween; then she disappeared on Halloween. Everything seemed to point to the fact that she was a witch and the people came to take her. When they found she wasn’t there, they said Senara would do, so Senara fled for her life and that was the last we saw of her until now.»
“And you and our mother helped her?”
“Naturally we all helped her. She had been as a sister to us.”
“And now she has come back,” murmured Bersaba.
And we were silent. I was picturing it all so clearly. Senara’s mother being washed up by the sea, being a witch, and after Grandmother Linnet died, marrying that fearful old man in the Seaward Tower and then running away from him-which didn’t surprise me. And the mob’s coming for Senara, who had been young then, with eyes like those of her daughter Carlotta. And who had been Carlotta’s father? We should hear, I was sure.
They came back into the hall, accompanied by my mother and Aunt Melanie. My mother was flushed and excited and quite clearly very happy because of the arrivals. I could not take my eyes from the girl Carlotta. Nor could any of us. She was the most arresting creature I had ever seen. It was something more than beauty although, of course, she was beautiful. In the candlelight her black hair had a bluish tinge, and there was a mysterious look in her enormous almond-shaped eyes. Her skin was very delicately tinged, which prevented its being dead white; it was petalsmooth and her nose was long, patrician, and beautifully molded. There was something exotic about her which added to her attraction. My cousins could not take their eyes from her any more than Bersaba and I could. Her mother was a beautiful woman still, but even though she must have shown considerable defiance to the years she could not completely elude their ravages, and I guessed that when she had been Carlotta’s age she would have been almost as attractive.