'Yes,' he said, 'I remember.'

'Mr Reid,' Paulette continued, drawing her sari tightly over her shoulders, 'when I came to live at Bethel I had no idee of such things. I was ignorant of Scripture and religious matters. My father, you see, had a great detestation of clergymen and held them in abhorrence – but this was not uncommon in men of his epoch…'

Zachary smiled. 'Oh it's still around, Miss Lambert, that aversion for parsons and devil-dodgers – in fact, I'd say it has a while yet to live.'

'You laugh, Mr Reid,' said Paulette. 'My father too would have pleasanted – his dislike of bondieuserie was very great. But for Mr Burnham, as you know, these are not subjects for amusement. When he discovered the depths of my ignorance, he was quite bouleversed and said to me that it was most imperative that he take personal charge of my instruction, notwithstanding other more pressing calls on his time. Is it possible to imagine, Mr Reid, to what point my face was put out of countenance? How could I refuse the offer so generous of my benefactor and patron? But also I did not wish to be a hypocrite and pretend to believe what I did not. Are you aware, Mr Reid, that there are religions in which a person may be put to death for hypocrisy?'

'That so?' said Zachary.

Paulette nodded. 'Yes, indeed. So you may imagine, Mr Reid, how I discuted with myself, before deciding that there could be no cause for reproach in proceeding with these lessons – in Penitence and Prayer, as Mr Burnham was pleased to describe them. Our lessons were held in the study where his Bible is kept, and almost always they were in the evenings, after dinner, when the house was quiet and Mrs Burnham had retired to her bedchamber with her beloved tincture of laudanum. At this time, the servants too, of whom, as you have seen, there are a great many in that house, could be counted on to retire to their own quarters, so there would be no paddings-about of their feet. This was the best possible time for contemplation and penitence, Mr Burnham said, and juste indeed was his description, for the atmosphere in his study was of the most profonde solemnity. The curtain would be drawn already when I entered, and he would then proceed to fasten the door – to prevent, as he said, interruptions in the work of righteousness. The study would be cast into darkness for there was never a light except for the branch of candles that glowed over the high lectern where the Bible lay open. I would walk in to find the passage for the day already chosen, the page marked with a silken placeholder, and I would take my own seat, which was a small footstool, beneath the lectern. When I had myself seated, he would take his place and start. What a tableau did he present, Mr Reid! The flames of the candles shining in his eyes! His beard glowing as if it were about to burst into light, like a burning bush! Ah, but if you had been there, Mr Reid: you too would have marvelled and admired.'

'I wouldn't wager long chalks on it, Miss,' said Zachary drily. 'But please go on.'

Paulette turned away, to look over her shoulder, at the far bank of the river, now visible in the moonlight. 'But how to describe, Mr Reid? The scene would bring before your eyes a tableau of the ancient patriarchs of the Holy Land. When he read, his voice was like a mighty waterfall, breaking upon the silence of a great valley. And the passages he chose! It was as if heaven had transfixed me in its gaze, like a Pharisee upon the plain. If I closed my eyes, the words would scorch my eyelids: "As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil." Are you familiar with those words, Mr Reid?'

'I believe I've heard them,' said Zachary, 'but don't be asking me for chapter and verse now.'

'The passage impressioned me very much,' Paulette said. 'How I trembled, Mr Reid! My whole body shook as if with the ague. So it went, Mr Reid, and I did not wonder that my father had neglected my scriptural education. He was a timid man and I dreaded to think of the anguish these passages would have caused him.' She drew her ghungta over her head. 'So did we proceed, lesson after lesson, until we came to a chapter of Hebrews: "If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not? But if ye be without chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye bastards, and not sons." Do you know these lines, Mr Reid?'

'Fraid not, Miss Lambert,' said Zachary, 'not being much of a churchgoer an all.'

'Nor did I know that passage,' Paulette continued. 'But for Mr Burnham it contained much meaning – so he had told me before he started his lecture. When he stopped I could see that he was greatly emotioned, for his voice was shaking and there was a tremor in his hands. He came to kneel beside me and asked, in a manner most severe, whether I was without chastisement. Now was I thrown into the profondest confusion, for I knew, from the passage, that to admit being unchastened was to acknowledge bastardy. Yet what was I to say, Mr Reid, for the verity is that not once in my life had my father ever beaten me? Shamefully I confessed my lack of chastening, at which he asked whether I should not like to learn of it, since it was a lesson very necessary for true penitence. Can you think, Mr Reid, how legion were my fears at the thought of being chastised by so large and powerful a man? But I hardened the bone of my courage and said, yes, I am ready. But here lay a surprise, Mr Reid, for it was not I who had been chosen for chastening…'

'But then who?' Zachary broke in.

'He,' said Paulette. 'He-the-same.'

'B'jilliber!' said Zachary. 'You're not tellin me it was Mr Burnham who wanted to be beat?'

'Yes,' Paulette continued. 'I had understood wrong. It was he who wished to endure the chastening, while I was but to be the instrument of his punishment. Imagine my nervosity, Mr Reid. If your benefactor asks you to be the instrument of his chastisement, with what face can you refuse? So I agreed, and he then proceeded to assume a most singular posture. He begged me to remain seated and then lowered his face to my feet, cupping my slippers in his hands and crouching, as a horse kneels to drink from a puddle. Then he urged me to draw my arm back and strike him upon his – his fesse.'

'On his face? Come now, Miss Lambert! You're ironing, for sure.'

'No – not his face. How do you say, the posterior aspect of the torso… the de-rear?'

'Stern? Taffrail? Poop-deck?'

'Yes,' said Paulette, 'his poop-deck as you call it was now raised high in the air, and it was there he wished me to aim my chastisements. You may imagine, Mr Reid, my distress at the thought of attacking my benefactor thus – but he would not be denied. He said my spiritual education would not progress otherwise. "Strike!" he cried, "smite me with thine hand!" So what could I do, Mr Reid? I made pretence there was a mosquito there, and brought my hand down on it. But this did not suffice. I heard a groan issuing from my feet – somewhat muffled, for the toe of my slipper was now inside his mouth – and he cried, "Harder, harder, smite with all thine strength." And so we went on for a while, and no matter how hard I struck, he bade me strike still harder – even though I knew him to be in pain, for I could feel him biting and sucking on my slippers, which were now quite wet. When at last he rose to his feet, I was sure that I would meet with reproofs and protests. But no! He was as pleased as ever I have seen him. He tickled me under the chin and said: "Good girl, you have learnt your lesson well. But mind! All will be undone if you should speak of this. Not one word – to anyone!" Which was unnecessary – for of course I would not have dreamed of making mention of such things.'