Saraband for Two Sisters

But the face disappeared, and for a few moments I could do nothing but stand there, because I was more than a little startled by what I had seen. Then I went on through the woods, calling to whoever it was to stop. But there was no response. I went through the trees until I came to the wall surrounding the castle.

It was the first time I had approached it from this direction, and that was how I discovered the door in the wall. I stood for a moment examining it, looking, furtively I must admit, over my shoulder, expecting at any moment to see that rather unearthly apparition. A door in the wall! There was an arch which betrayed it, for the wall at this point was covered with creepers which festooned over it almost obscuring the door. I pushed aside the creepers and examined it closely. There was a keyhole which would take a large key. I lay against the door and pushed it. It was locked fast It was very strange, and as I stood there a sense of apprehension came over me. I felt alone suddenly and very isolated from the household of Far Flamstead. I kept thinking of that face which had looked at me through the trees. The strange expression of the eyes. They had not been threatening, far from it. They had seemed almost afraid of me, which was perhaps why I had somewhat recklessly followed. But now I felt a great urge to get out of the copse. I started to run and did not stop until I was through the trees and in the clear.

I was quite breathless and the first person I saw was Mrs. Cherry. She was coming out of the herb garden, and in her apron she was carrying some leaves and sprigs, which she must have just gathered.

‘Why, you look startled, my lady,” she said.

“I...I just saw someone in the copse.”

“In the copse, my lady?”

“Yes, the one by the castle wall.”

“Oh?” Her round eyes seemed to have taken on an alert look. ‘Trespassers then … ”

“It was a man with dark hair and brows and there was some birthmark on his cheek.” She hesitated for a few seconds, her brows drawn together while she looked down at the grass. Then she lifted her face and was smiling. “Oh, that would be Strawberry John. So he were there, were he? He’d no right, the rascal.»

“Strawberry John. What’s that?”

“He have this mark on his cheek like. In strawberry season it comes up just like a strawberry. They say his mother had a terrible fancy for strawberries when she were carrying him and he were born with it right on his cheek it is-so you can’t fail to see it. He makes a bit by poaching where he shouldn’t, if you get my meaning. Yes, I know Strawberry John.”

“I called out and he didn’t answer. He ran.”

“He knew he’d no right to be in them woods, that’s what. Why, you look really scared.

There’s nothing to fear from Strawberry John.”

I had explored the gardens and I wanted to go farther afield. I knew that I was supposed not to go riding beyond the paddock but I was thinking a great deal about Bersaba, who had often gone out riding alone, so I decided I could come to no harm and one day I set out.

I took a different route from the one I had taken with Richard and rode on through pleasant lanes for about three miles when I came to a farmhouse. It was large and comfortable-looking, with stone walls and a tiled roof. Close by were several small cottages, and they all seemed part of the farm estate.

I approached with interest, for it struck me that the owners of the farm must be our nearest neighbors. As I stood there a woman came out of the house, went to the well to draw water and, seeing me on horseback, she called a greeting. There was something familiar about her and she certainly noticed the same about me, for she approached looking at me curiously.

Then I recognized her. She was Ella Longridge, the sister of the man whom Richard had challenged to a duel.

‘Why,” she cried, “we have met before.”

“You are Mistress Longridge, I believe.”

“And you are the new mistress of Far Flamstead. We met at a ball.»

“I remember it well. You and your brother were together there, and there was an unfortunate incident.”

“It was satisfactorily settled,” she said. “You are riding alone?»

“Yes. My husband is away on military matters and I have grown tired of keeping within bounds and had no wish to bring a groom with me.”

‘Would you care to come in a while? My brother is out, but he would not wish me to be inhospitable.”

“It’s kind of you. I should greatly like to do so.”

I dismounted and tethered my horse to a post near the mounting block and went with her into the farmhouse.

I noticed the simplicity of her gray gown, and she wore a white collar and white apron. Her shoes were strong and serviceable and her hair taken back from her brow in the plainest of styles.