The pool of St Branok

"Perhaps, and perhaps not," said Ben. "And who would ever know that he was cured? It might break out again and someone else be murdered."

"Yes," agreed my mother. "It seems that eliminating such people is the only way. He won't get far," she added. "No fear of that."

When luncheon was over Ben said to me: "What about a ride this afternoon?"

"I'd like that," I replied eagerly.

"You said you were going to show me that pool."

"Oh yes. Branok."

"The bottomless pool where the bells are heard when some disaster is about to occur."

"Yes," I giggled. "It's one of those places ... like the moor. You can laugh but you can feel it when you are there."

"Right. In half an hour?"

When I went down to the stables Ben was already there, mounted.

He said: "I've just had a command from John Polstark. He wants me to go out with him and look at one of the cottages."

I was disappointed. "So you can't come."

"It won't take very long. Are you ready to go? I believe the cottage is somewhere near the pool. You go on. Wait for me there."

I brightened. "I'll do that."

And so innocently happy I rode out to the pool, not realizing that life was never going to be the same again.

It was a warm day with just a light coolish breeze. I reached the pool. How silent it was! There was no one about. There rarely was here. I listened intently. I almost felt I could hear the tinkle of bells. It was easy to fancy such things in such a place.

I felt a desire to touch the water. It shimmered in the sunshine. It was still though; there was not a ripple on the surface. I halted my horse and, slipping off her back, looked round for somewhere to tether her. She was docile enough, but I did not want her to wander.

I patted her and said: "Just for a while. Ben will be here soon."

I went down to the pool and trailed my hand in the water. I half wished that I could hear the bells; and yet I should have been terrified if they had begun to peal. How would they sound under water? Muffled, I supposed. I should be rather frightened but only because I was alone.

My horse whinnied.

I stood still without turning round. "It's all right, Glory," I said. "He'll soon be here ... then you'll be free ... though he might want to walk for a while."

I heard a footstep.

"Ben," I called. I looked round, but it was not Ben.

"Good afternoon," he said. He was a youngish man in his early twenties, I imagined. He smiled pleasantly. "I've lost my way. Perhaps you could direct me."

"I expect so. I live round here."

"Not at that magnificent house I passed?"

"Was it on a cliff?"

"Yes. Like a castle."

He had come closer and was looking at me intently. He had thick eyebrows and dark curly hair.

"That's Cador," I told him. "It's my home."

"Congratulations. It must be wonderful to live in such a place. It is certainly very fine."

"It's very old, of course."

"I guessed so."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Is there a good inn?"

"There is the Fisherman's Rest. It's very small. There was the King's Arms. That was an old coaching inn ... but there was no business after the railways came, and it closed down. There is only really the Fisherman's Rest."

"You're a nice little girl," he said and he came closer to me.

It was then that I felt the first twinge of fear. He seemed to change suddenly. I had thought that he was a student ... exploring the countryside. Now I was not so sure.

"Thank you," I said as coolly as I could and started to walk past him, but he caught my arm.

"You're frightened," he said. "Why?"

"No ... no," I stammered. "I ... I just have to go."

"Why?" he cried shaking me.

A terrible thought came into my mind. I remembered the poster. I looked at his face. His eyes now looked wild; they seemed to bore right into me. I thought: It's the escaped prisoner ... and I'm here ... alone with him. I wanted to cry out but my mouth was dry and no sound came. My heart was beating so fast that I thought I should suffocate.

I heard myself say shrilly: "Who are you?"

He did not answer. I moved backwards. I was very close to the water.

He advanced too. He had changed. He was no longer the pleasant student. There was a dreadful light in his eyes. His pupils seemed to be distended.

He said: "I like little girls." And he laughed horribly. "I like them when they are nice to me."

"Yes ... yes," I said, trying to sound normal and wondering if I could slip past him and run ... and run.

He gripped my arm. I tried to wrench it free, but he laughed again in that frightening way. Then he put a hand out and touched my throat.

"No, no," I screamed. "Go away. Let me alone."

It was the wrong thing to have done. As I tried to dodge past him he caught me by the shoulder.

"Let me go," I sobbed. "Let me go."

Panic had seized me. I could not think. I was only aware of his closeness ... his motives, which I only half understood but which I knew ended in death.

I was young; I was agile; but he was a grown man and stronger than I.I knew that if he caught me I was doomed.