The Song of the Siren

I stepped into the boat.

Jeremy was beside me.

I turned to say good-bye. “I shall bless you all my life,” I said.

“Let us hope that I continue to enjoy those blessings for a very long time,” he answered.

Smith was standing on the shingle.

Jeremy said: “Well, let us be off.”

I looked at him wondering: “You ...”

He said: “Smith will take the horses back. Of course I’m coming with you.”

I felt a great singing in my heart, an excitement such as I had never known before.

I wanted to turn to him, to tell him what this meant to me.

I looked at his face, stern, taciturn, expressing nothing but his disapproval of my folly in wanting to attempt this desperate adventure.

I quickly realised that I could never have done it without him.

He spoke fluent French, and that forbidding manner of his, with the suggestion of good breeding which accompanied it, forbade questions.

Sometimes we spent the night at inns where he demanded comfortable accommodation for himself and his niece and servant, and invariably we got it. If there was only one room I had it, and he and the man he called Jacques would spend the night in the inn parlour. We had to make various stops because in spite of my determination and my renewed strength I could not travel too far-or at least he would not allow me to. If I wanted to go on he would remind me of my promise of obedience, and he was not the sort of man it was easy to disobey.

That journey did something for us both. He smiled now and then; as for myself I was amazed at what I could do. I did not tire half as easily as Jeremy insisted that I did. I did not need all the care he was giving me.

I could not understand myself. The listlessness had dropped from me. Every morning when I awoke I was aware of an excitement.

“How many miles to Paris?” I would ask.

And it was wonderful to know the distance was diminishing.

I began to wonder about myself. How ill had I been since I could make this recovery?

Perhaps it had not really been that I was not well enough to go about meeting people and live a normal healthy life so much as that I did not want to.

And at last we saw the city of Paris in the distance.

I was overcome with exhilaration and impatience. The most exciting city in the world, I thought it. But that was because it contained Clarissa.

It was late afternoon when we arrived. I looked ahead to where the fading sunlight touched the turrets and spires. I saw the outline of the Palais de Justice and the belfreys, towers and gargoyles of Notre Dame.

We crossed a bridge and I felt the magical aura of the city embrace me.

I looked at Jeremy. A grim satisfaction showed on his face.

We had got so far. He had said many times that he was surprised how well we were going; and I told him that he was not really surprised at all. He knew as well as I did that if one was determined to succeed, one would; and we were going to bring Clarissa to England.

“We’ll find an inn for the night and we’ll go to the Marais district.”

Jacques said: “It should be Les Paons, Monsieur. It is the best for us.”

“Les Paons it shall be.”

I said: “First let us go to the house.”

“First to the inn,” said Jeremy. “We cannot go to the house ... travel-stained as we are. Look at the mud on your skirts. The horses are tired out. They hate this Paris mud.- It’s the worst mud in the world.”

I wanted to protest even though I realised he was right.

“We must go to the house,” I said.

Jacques shook his head.

“Better not to go out at night, Mademoiselle.”

I felt desperately frustrated, but I knew they were right.

The inn was decorated with the peacocks from which it took its name. It was comfortable and a room was found for me which looked down on the street. I stood at the window for a moment, watching the people pass by. It was almost impossible to conceal my impatience, but I knew I must wait.

We must present ourselves at the house as decorously as possible tomorrow morning.

This time tomorrow, I promised myself, I shall have Clarissa.

What an age that seemed! I wondered how I should get through the night. I was here ... in Paris ... I was on the threshold of success. And I had to get through these hours of darkness somehow before the morning.

We took supper in the inn parlour but I was too excited to eat. Jeremy was calm and tried to steady me, but I could concentrate on nothing. I was just looking for the time to pass.

I could not sleep that night. I sat at my window and looked down on the street. It was strange how its character changed as darkness fell. The well-dressed people were replaced by those of a different kind. I realised that Jeremy had been right when he had said that we should wait till morning.