The Black Swan

We had explored the chateau and were back in the hall when the door was suddenly opened and a woman came in. She was in a riding habit of silver-gray, and her hair, which was luxurious and golden, showed beneath her gray riding hat. “Jean Pascal!” she cried, coming toward him, smiling. “I heard you were home.”

Jean Pascal looked distinctly annoyed. I had never seen him look like that before.

He seemed really angry.

“Oh, Clotilde,” he said. “I am busy now... showing my guests round the chateau.”

“How amusing!” She waited expectantly.

“I’ll see you later on.”

She looked amazed. I wondered why he did not introduce us. So did she evidently, because she came forward and stood looking at us expectantly. There was no alternative then but for Jean Pascal to act as we all expected. “My daughter Belinda... Mademoiselle Lansdon,” he murmured. “And ... er ... Madame Carleon.”

In our somewhat labored French Belinda and I said we were enchanted to meet her.

“Well, we must go,” said Jean Pascal. “I’ll see you at some other time, Clotilde.”

She stared at him for a second or two and then, turning, walked out of the hall.

I listened to her footsteps on the marble steps.

Jean Pascal quickly recovered from what seemed to have been for him an unpleasant experience.

“You haven’t seen it all yet,” he was saying. “We have some magnificent stables and plenty of horses. So you will be able to ride round and explore.” I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs and I guessed that Madame Carleon was departing in anger.

I wondered what that was all about.

A few days passed. Jean Pascal seemed determined that we should enjoy our stay. I wondered whether he had it in his mind that Belinda should live here permanently. I had an idea that he was interested in her... and perhaps asking himself whether he wanted a grown-up daughter in his household. He might find it amusing for a while, certainly, but would he grow tired? I was sure that Belinda wanted to be with him. His mode of living would suit her, I was sure. It would be more exciting residing in the chateau, visiting royalty at Farnborough and traveling with her father. Quite different from the comparatively dull lives we lived in London.

But he did include me in everything. He would ask my opinion and always considered it carefully. He really did seem as though he were trying to please me. In fact there were times when I think Belinda grew a little impatient because he bestowed so much attention on me.

He told me that he had a few friends and acquaintances in the neighborhood and that we should have a dinner party; and he had no doubt that there would be invitations for us to visit.

Belinda was much looking forward to that. She had already been to Bordeaux and bought some clothes. She regretted that we were so far from Paris. How she would have loved to see the shops in that city!

I still kept to my plan to escape from them from time to time. I found a need to be alone. Every day I hoped there would be news of Joel. Celeste had assured me that she would let me know at once if she heard anything; and the Greenhams would of course keep her informed, knowing I was as anxious as they were. The grounds about the chateau provided me with great pleasure. They were extensive; there was a small pine wood to which one could retreat and feel as though one were a long way from any habitation; it was always a pleasure to emerge from the trees and see the central tower of the chateau and the two round ones at either end of the building. Standing some distance from it, the symmetrical beauty of the place struck one forcibly.

I liked to wander along the banks of the lake and to watch the swans; both remained aloof and rarely came to the water’s edge. The big one, the cob, was always followed by his smaller mate. He looked very dignified with her always following in his wake. The little ducks were more friendly. They would come close, always hoping for some little tidbit to eat, I imagined.

On this particular day I was unusually deep in thought, telling myself that there must be news of Joel soon. Time was passing. Surely if anything was to be discovered it must be in the near future. It had been so long that I was beginning to despair and feel I might never see him again.

I had wandered to the edge of the lake as I watched the swans. The large one was coming purposefully toward me, the little one docilely swimming behind him. I thought how beautiful they were, so exquisitely graceful and serene. They were coming nearer and nearer. I was surprised. Previously they had seemed somewhat disdainfully aloof.

Then I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs. I turned. Jean Pascal was galloping toward me. He was alone.