Lord of the Far Island (14 page)

And so I sat down without further delay and wrote to Jago Kellaway, telling him that I should be delighted to come to the Far Island and must indeed join members of my family and bridge the gap of years.

I had completed the letter when the summons came and the envelope lay sealed in front of me.

It was Bessie, knocking faintly as though she were sorry to have to bring such an order.

iss Ellen, the mistress wants you in her sitting room. That Mrs. Oman Lemming there.

Defiantly I went down, my old spirits briefly reviving. I was not going to Mrs. Oman Lemming to be humiliated and treated with disdain. I was going to visit my relations in the Far Island off the coast of Cornwall.

PART TWO

The Island

A Glimpse of Hydrock Manor

It was late afternoon when I arrived at Polcrag, for after leaving the main-line train I had had to make the six- or seven-mile journey on the small local one. There was a fly waiting at the station and I asked the driver to take me and my baggage to the Polcrag Inn. Jago Kellaway had suggested this procedure when he had written to say he was delighted that I was accepting his invitation.

or,he wrote, he Island is three miles out to sea, on whose pleasure I am afraid we have to wait. It may well be, my dear, that the boats can come in when you arrive, in which case it is better for you to be at the Polcrag Inn, the landlord of which I know well, and I shall tell them to take especial care of you there.

My possessionsll I ownedilled three moderate-sized bags, and most of this was clothes which had been made for my trousseau so, ironically enough, now that I was leaving London society, I was better equipped for it than I had ever been in my life.

Esmeralda had bidden me a tearful farewell and Cousin Agatha had made little attempt to hide her relief in being rid of me, while Cousin William had slipped a purse of sovereigns into my hand with a murmur: insist on your taking it, Ellen. You may need it.

As we clopped along from the station to the inn, I took stock of the little town which clustered below and yet at the same time seemed to climb the surrounding cliffs. Some of the houses were approached by steep slopes, others by steps cut out of the cliffside. They were made of gray Cornish stone and many of them had glassed-in porches undoubtedly for the dual purpose of catching the sun and keeping out the wind, which I imagined would blow in from the sea. The Polcrag Inn, a building of three stories with an archway at the side, stood in the main street, and we drove under this arch to the stables. Just as I was about to alight a man who wore a leather apron about his waist, and whom I guessed rightly to be the host, came into the yard.

ou Miss Kellaway,he said, f I be not mistook.

I said that I was indeed Miss Kellaway.

is a fine room I have for e. Ie been warned of your coming.

thought I should cross to the Island today,I said.

ord love you, no, Miss. The sea be proper treacherous today. Did you see the white horses out there, far out is true but when you see them you know is no time to take out the boat for the Island.

o then I must stay the night here?

is the only thing, Miss Kellaway, and we prepared. Orders is you to be well looked after till the boat do come for e.

Disappointed as I was not to reach the Island that day, I was comforted by the fact that my new-found kinsman had shown such concern for my well-being.

im here will take your bags up and maybe tomorrow they wicked old white horses will go to stable.

I followed him across the courtyard to a door through which he led me. We were in a hall dominated by an oak chest on which stood a large pewter plate.

here be to, me dear,called the innkeeper, and a woman came into the hall.

his be Miss Kellaway,said the innkeeper.

The woman eyes opened wide as she looked at me wonderingly. e it so then?she said, and dropped a curtsy. best be taking her to her room,she went on.

like to wash, please,I told her, nd change my blouse.

o e shall,said the innkeeper wife. f you will follow me, Miss Kellaway.

The innkeeper watched me as I ascended the stairs.

his be the room, Miss Kellaway,said his wife, throwing open a door. Tis the best in the inn. was to be kept for e case you should have to stay a while. Il have hot water sent up to e.

hank you.

h, is a pleasure, Miss Kellaway. wouldn do to give you aught but the best. Wel have your bags sent up in a trice.

She hesitated. She had scarcely taken her eyes from me since she had seen me. I looked at her inquiringly, for I had the impression that she wanted to tell me something.

She did. After a second or so hesitation she burst out: knew your mother. You like her.

ou knew my mother! How interesting.

She nodded. were maid to her before I married Tom Pengelly. I were with her until she left.

so glad to meet someone who knew her. I was five when she died and one doesn remember very much at that age.

She nodded. ell, so you here. Little Miss Ellen! My word, youe changed.

I smiled. suppose I have since you last saw me. I could only have been about three years old then.

ime passes,she mused. t seems only yesterday, though much have happened since, I reckon. My boy over there.She nodded towards the window. e works for Mr. Jago. You look out for Augustushough he be known as Slack.

will,I promised.

were married soon after your mother went off and Pengelly and I had Augustus. There be nothing wrong with him. were just that he were born too soon. He a good boy.

There was a knock on the door and a maid appeared with hot water followed by a boy with my bags.

here be roast pig cooking in the oven,said Mrs. Pengelly as she went out.

I crossed to the window and looked at a magnificent view of the sea. I strained my eyes for a glimpse of the Island but all I could see were ominous dark clouds which were being scurried across a gray sky by that wind which was whipping up the white horses whose presence was holding me on the mainland.

There was a tap on the door and a girl with towels entered.

an you ever see the Far Island from here?I asked her.

f it be clear enough, Miss.

As I washed and changed my blouse I was becoming more and more excited, for now I should learn something about my parents. All I knew was that they had been unhappy together because my mother had left my father. I had often wondered about him and pictured him as a sort of ogre. I believed then that this adventure was going to prove exactly what I needed to take me away from a past in which I could only grieve for Philip death and suffer a certain remorse because I had not appreciated him enough when he was alive.

I did not unpack very much since I hoped I should be leaving the next day when the white horses had one to stable.I wondered whether Jago Kellaway would come to meet me and what he would be like. There had been a very warm welcome in his letter and I was growing very eager to meet him.

As I descended the stairs the savory smell of roasting pork made me feel hungry for the first time since Philip death. There were no other guests in the dining room and, seeing that I had noticed this, Mrs. Pengelly explained that it was early yet. e thought you be ready for it after traveling,she added.

I assured her that I was and I was sure that she was glad, as I was, that we were the only people in the dining room because that gave us an opportunity to talk.

ou must have known my mother very well,I began, determined to make the most of that opportunity.

h yes, Miss Kellaway. You too, when you was a little n. You was a lively one, you was. was one body work keeping you out of mischief.

hy did my mother leave the Island?

Mrs. Pengelly looked taken aback. ell, my dear, that were for reasons best known to herself. Reckon her and your father didn get along so well.

The innkeeper came into the room saying that he wanted to know how I was enjoying the meal and when I told him it was excellent, he rubbed his hands together and looked pleased; but I did intercept a look he gave his wife and I wondered whether he had come not only to assure himself of my satisfaction but to warn her against talking too much.

f there anything else you wanting,he began.

I told him there was nothing and his wife asked if I would like coffee and, when I said I would, she replied that it would be served in the inn parlor.

l bring it to e,she added, with, I thought, a promise to continue our conversation, but when she brought it and I tried to ask her more about my parents, she clamped her lips together as though she was not going to let them say what they would obviously have liked to, and I guessed her husband had warned her against indiscreet talk.

Was there something mysterious about the Island and its inhabitants? I wondered.

I finished my coffee and went up to my room, where I sat by the window looking out over the sea. It was a beautiful sight, for the moon had arisen and was throwing a pathway of silver light across the dark water. I fancied the sea was calmer than it had been on my arrival and that the wind was less persistently strong.

Theyl come for me in the morning, I told myself.

The great feather bed in the cozy room was warm, but I could not sleep very well and when I did doze it was inevitable that I should have the dream. This time it was vague and shadowy. Again I stood in the room which I just recognized by the red curtains, but as the objects, with which I had become familiar over the yearshe rocking chair, the picture, the brick fireplace, the gate-legged table and the restegan to take shape, I awoke.

My feelings as I did so were not so much of apprehension, which was the usual reaction, as of excitement and a great desire to discover, as though I were at last on the verge of learning the meaning behind the mists of my dream. For a few seconds after waking I could not remember where I was and I got out of bed to stand at the window and gaze out to sea in the direction where I knew the Island to be. I realized that my dream had reflected my feelings to some extent, for I was indeed about to embark on a voyage of discovery.

In the early morning the wind had risen again and the waves were now pounding on the shore. I was dismayed. Yesterday white horses had not returned to their stables; in fact, more had come out to join them.

I went down to breakfast. Mrs. Pengelly shook her head dolefully. here be quite a sea on,she said. herel be no boat this morning.

I ate her freshly baked bread hot from the oven so that the butter melted into it as I spread it, and drank hot coffee from a brown earthenware mug. The day stretched before me, and I said I would stroll out to look at the town.

There was not a great deal of the town when one left the main street, just a few shops and houses and very little more. I noticed people looked at me curiously and supposed they were unused to visitors.

The post office was the general store and I decided that I would go in and buy some stamps, for I had promised to let Esmeralda know at the earliest possible moment how I had fared on my journey.

When I arrived on the Island I would write to her at length, giving her all those details which I knew she would relish, but that would be later and she would be longing to know something at once.

The postmistress and her husband, who was serving at another counter, looked up when I walked in. I smiled and said good morning, to which they replied cautiously. While she was getting the stamps the postmistress, recognizing me as a stranger, asked if I was visiting here.

es,I replied, lthough not on the mainland. I waiting for the sea to grow calm enough.

o you be going to the Islands then?

es. My family have asked me to stay with them.

nd youe never been there before!

ctually I was born on the Far Island but I haven been back since I was three.

ou can be

Ellen Kellaway.

She stared at me in astonishment. ell now,she said at length. hat be something!

ou apparently know my family.

veryone do know the Kellaways. There been Kellaways on the Far Island for hundreds of years, is said.

r. Jago Kellaway has invited me to stay. You know him, of course.

ell, he be the Lord of the Island, as they do say.

I was aware that everyone in the shop was interested in me and it suddenly occurred to me that I had been talking too much and in a somewhat naive fashion, so I hastily paid for the stamps and went back to the inn, where I ate a cold luncheon of ham, cheese and fruit.

The long afternoon had begun and the sea had not changed for the better. The clouds were as lowering as they had been the day before and the waves, edged with white froth which the wind sent high into the air, were thundering on the sands.

I could not stay in, so I decided to walk again. I turned from the main street and went on towards the harbor. One or two little boats were tied up there. I read their names. Our Sally. Jennie. Gay Lass. Bold Adventurer. They danced on the water washing the quayside. I passed lobster pots, and a fisherman who was mending his nets looked at me curiously as I passed. I called a greeting. He mumbled a reply, and went on mending his nets. There was a big shed smelling of fish and in it was a great weighing machine. The fish market, I imagined, but silent and empty today. None of the little boats could go out. The gulls shrieked protestingly, it seemed, because of the lack of tidbits to which they would be accustomed when the catch came in.

I left the coast and took a winding path through some woods thinking of all that I was trying to forget. I found it so hard to shut out of my mind for any length of time the memory of Philip face creased in laughter, gently mocking, but always ready to protect me; and as frequently I saw Rollo accusing eyes. It was deeply wounding to know that he suspected me of having driven Philip to his death.

h Philip,I said aloud, will never believe you did that. It is quite impossible; I know it is. But what happened?

And there I was as close to the tragedy as I had been on the morning Rollo had come to tell me it had happened.

Because my thoughts had been far away in the past I had not noticed how deep into the woods I had penetrated and it occurred to me that I ought to retrace my steps and return to the inn, but I was in no great hurry to do this, as there was a lonely evening ahead of me.