‘No – no – it wasn’t.’

‘If you mean it wasn’t the Miss Benevents at the hotel in Eastcliff, you must know perfectly well that it was. I went round there next day, and you had gone, but they hadn’t. Their names were in the visitors’ book, and they passed through the hall whilst I was looking at it. They were there, and because they told you the tide wouldn’t be high until eleven you went walking on the beach and you were nearly drowned.’ And they knew who you were when they told you that, because they had just seen you write your name. You told me all about it when we were stuck up there on the cliff. They saw you write your name – Candida Sayle – and they remarked on it. And right on top of that they told you what a nice walk there was along the beach, and that the tide would not be high until eleven.’

The outer wall of Candida’s defence fell down with a crash. He knew too much, he remembered too well. She said on a quick breath,

‘It wasn’t Aunt Cara – I’m sure it wasn’t Aunt Cara.’

‘She was there when it was said.’

Candida tried to pull away her hands, but he held them.

‘She would think anything Aunt Olivia said was right. She is like that – you know she is.’

He nodded briefly.

‘All right, that goes for her. But it doesn’t go for Miss Olivia, does it? What was in her mind when she told you a lie about the tide?’

Candida said in a desperate voice,

‘She couldn’t have known that it was a lie.’

He let go of her and sat back.

‘Can you make yourself believe that? You can’t make me believe it.’

‘Stephen!’

‘I want you to leave Underhill.’

‘Stephen, I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘I said I would stay and do this job with Derek.’

‘You can say you have got to go back and see about a job, or about your Aunt Barbara’s business, or anything that comes into your head.’

‘I won’t tell lies just because – just because – And there’s Aunt Cara – she’s got fond of me. Stephen, she’s pathetic. Olivia bullies her, and she’s grateful if anyone is kind.

He said in a masterful voice,

‘I want you to leave Underhill.’

Chapter Eleven

Back at his hotel, he rang up his cousin Louisa Arnold. When she answered, there were the sort of preliminaries in which he had learned to participate.

‘You are well, my dear boy?’

‘Oh, yes. And you, Cousin Louisa?’

There was some dalliance with Miss Arnold’s suspicion, contracted last night, that she might have taken a slight chill. This had, of course, to be explained in detail, together with the reassuring fact that by breakfast-time this morning the faint premonitory symptoms had subsided. She would therefore be able to attend a committee meeting of the Hospital Flower Guild to which she was pledged.

‘I really do not like to miss it unless I am absolutely obliged to do so, and dear Maud says she will not mind being left. I should be back by six o’clock. The meeting is at four, but it would be considered rude if I did not stay to tea. Mrs. Lowry who is our chairman is always so hospitable…’

The conversation ended in his being pressed to drop in at any time.

Miss Silver was enjoying a comfortable cup of tea in the drawing-room when he was announced.

‘I am so sorry, Mr. Eversley, I am afraid that Louisa is out.’

He made sure that Eliza Peck had closed the door behind her before he replied.

‘Yes, she told me she had a meeting. As a matter of fact, I wondered whether you would allow me to have a talk with you. I understand that you do take cases and give advice professionally.’

Miss Silver inclined her head.

‘Yes, Mr. Eversley.’

‘Then will you let me talk to you? I – well I’m a good deal worried – ’

‘About Miss Candida Sayle?’

‘How did you know?’

She smiled.

‘You were speaking of her the other night. Your concern was evident.’

He remembered that he had talked a good deal about Candida. He had not realised that his interest had been so obvious.

Before he could speak the door opened to admit Eliza Peck, bearing a small tray with a second teacup and a supply of hot water. She was a thin, upright old woman with a daunting air of severity. Her eye softened slightly as it rested upon Stephen. She liked to see a young man coming about the house again. Time was when there had been enough of them and to spare, but that was when she and Miss Louisa were young. She put down the teacup and the water-jug and went away with the empty tray.

Stephen heard Miss Silver assure him that the tea had only just been made. He accepted the cup she poured out for him, but almost immediately put it down again upon the edge of the table.

‘I don’t like her being at Underhill,’ he said.

‘No, Mr. Eversley?’

The lift in her voice made a question of it. He said with emphasis,

‘I don’t like it at all. I want to get her away.’

‘And she wishes to stay?’

‘I don’t believe she does really. Part of the trouble is that she hasn’t got anywhere to go. The aunt who brought her up has just died. She has been nursing her for the last three years, so she isn’t trained for anything, and there’s practically no money, and no relations except the Miss Benevents.’

Miss Silver commented mildly,

‘An awkward situation.’

‘Yes, it is. And there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do about it. My parents are dead – the uncle with whom I work is a bachelor – ’ He broke off with a sound of anger. ‘Even if I had rows of female relations, I don’t suppose it would be of the slightest use. Miss Olivia has got Candida pegged down to a history of the Benevent family, and she is letting herself get fond of Miss Cara. She is sorry for her.’

Miss Silver finished her own cup of tea before she said in a thoughtful voice.

‘Just why do you think she should leave Underhill, Mr. Eversley?’

He said, ‘Look here, this is all between ourselves, isn’t it?’

She gave a slight reproving cough.

‘You have asked for my professional assistance. You can naturally rely upon my professional secrecy.’

He found himself making an apology.

‘It was just that – well – my Cousin Louisa – ’

Miss Silver said graciously,

‘You need be in no anxiety. Pray continue.’

‘I am going to tell you about something that happened more than five years ago. I was staying at a place called Eastcliff, and I had been out in a boat bird-watching – it’s a hobby of mine. There’s an island with a lot of gulls. I was coming back, making for the mainland, when I saw a girl halfway up the cliffs. She had been caught by the tide, and I could see that she was stuck. I called out and asked her if she could hold on whilst I got help. She said she would try. She was spread-eagled there, with hardly any hold, and I could see that I couldn’t risk it. What I could do was to run into the cove I was making for and climb along the cliff to a ledge just over her head. I managed it, and I got her up on to the ledge. By that time it was too dark to get her off the cliff by the way I had come, and we had to stay there all night. She was a schoolgirl of about fifteen, and her name was Candida Sayle. She had come to Eastcliff to meet friends who didn’t turn up, because one of them had been taken ill. And she got cut off by the tide because two old ladies staying in the same private hotel had told her that there was a very nice walk along the beach, and that the tide would not be high until eleven.’

‘That was a most unfortunate mistake.’

He said doggedly,

‘I don’t believe it was a mistake.’

‘Mr. Eversley!’

‘I can’t believe it. The first thing you find out about at any seaside place is the tides. And that tide was high at a quarter to nine. Can you believe that anyone could have been two hours out? And you haven’t heard everything. Those two women who told Candida that there was such a nice walk along the beach and that the tide wouldn’t be high till eleven were the Miss Benevents. They knew who Candida was, because they had watched her sign her name in the hotel register. They had even commented on its being an unusual one. But they didn’t tell her that they were her great-aunts. Oh, no, they just told her what a nice walk there was along the beach, and that she would have plenty of time to take it because the tide would not be high until eleven o’clock.’