Witch from the Sea

I thanked him and reproached myself for my churlishness. It was true he had behaved in a swaggering manner, but he had given up the room to us; then he had called me from my bed when he had tapped at the window. Perhaps that was the most disturbing thing of all. But wasn’t it what any high-spirited man might have done? Should I blame him too much? After all, when I had returned to my bed he had gone away and he had amply repaid any discourtesy on this night. It was hard to reconcile this man who was so anxious to calm my fears with the arrogant bully who had come to The Traveller’s Rest. Had I built up an image of him in my mind which was exaggerated and therefore false? I was apt to do that. My mother often pointed it out to me.

“Now we will leave this grim place,” he said, “and I will take you to my sanctum. A small room where I entertain my friends now and then. There food will be brought and we shall eat. But before that I doubt not that you would wish to wash and perhaps take off your cloak.”

He pulled at a bell rope and I heard a clanging. A serving-girl appeared at once.

“Take this lady to the room which is being prepared for her,” he said.

She bobbed a curtsy and I followed her. We went up a staircase and along a gallery. A door was thrown open. Candles flickered in their sconces. There were two women in the room making the bed. They turned and curtsied as I entered.

The room was elaborately furnished. The bed had four posts which were intricately engraved. It was a large bed furnished with heavily embroidered curtains. I wanted to stop them for I had no intention of sleeping there. I should spend the night listening and waiting for some news.

One of the women brought warm water and a basin in which I washed my hands and face.

Removing my cloak and my bonnet-shaped hat I shook out my hair. It was my greatest beauty, my mother said. It was a darker shade than my father’s, a lightish brown with golden tints in it, heavy hair that was difficult to dress and looked its best in disorder.

I was too anxious to be interested in it now but it was a relief to have it loose.

The woman was waiting to take me to her master, and holding high her candle she conducted me to a room which was close by the bedroom. Here candles had been lighted and a table laid.

There was hot soup in pewter bowls, and although I did not feel like eating I realized I was faint with hunger.

He was waiting for me. He bowed and led me to a chair.

“Allow me to help you to this good capon. I am sure you will enjoy it. I can see that you are hungry and thirsty though you feel disinclined to partake of food and drink. Come, there is no good in abstaining. I have already sent men out to scour the countryside, to inquire at inns far and wide. I doubt not that ere long your mother will be here … or at least we shall have news of her. That will satisfy you.”

It did. I found the capon good and there was no doubt that my strength was reviving.

“Here is a good wine which will put heart into you. Drink it. It will make you feel better.”

He helped himself to the great pie which was on the table and ate hungrily. He drank of the wine.

“Now there is some colour in her cheeks,” he said. “Come, more wine. Tell me, do you not feel better?”

I said I did.

“Tomorrow you and your mother will be laughing at this adventure.”

“I think we shall always shudder with horror to recall it.”

“It was a bad moment when that knave galloped off with you. I never doubted that I would catch up with you though. My great regret is that I was unable to give him his dues. I might well yet.”

“You would not recognize him if you met him again.”

“Masked as he was mayhap not. I should know his horse though.”

He filled my glass. “It is enough,” I said.

“Oh come, your spirits must be revived by the time your mother arrives.”

“Do you really think they will find her?”

“How can they fail? There are four of them … all going in different directions … they must find her for she will either be on the road or in one of the inns.”

“But there was only one—the Roses. She was not there.”

“Perhaps she went there later.”

“I should have stayed there.”

“Nay, you are better here …”

I was beginning to feel a little light-headed. It was the shock, I supposed, and then the wine. His voice seemed to grow somewhat faint as though it was coming from a long way off.

He was saying: “Let me give you some of this partridge.”

The room swayed a little. I thought: God help me, the wine was potent.

He was watching me, smiling at me, cutting the partridge with his knife.

I could not see his face clearly. It was becoming more and more blurred. I heard myself say: “I think … I think I should go …”

I stood up. He was there beside me.

I felt the room, everything, slipping away and was only aware of his face near me … his eyes were enormous … there was nothing but those great black pools of eyes … I felt as though I was trying to swim in dark pools and I was sinking.

I felt myself caught up suddenly. And I knew that he was holding me.