“Tell me, Seth,” I said. “What do you know about her…coming to get them?”

“ ’Er drowned, didn’t ’er? It was ’cos of Tregarland’s. ’Er’s doing to them what was done to ’er. There were Mr. Dermot’s first wife…her from the Sailor’s Rest.”

“What of her, Seth?”

“ ’Er went down to the sea…and that baby went with her. That’s what her wanted.”

“Her?” I repeated.

“ ’Er from Jermyn’s. ’Er ’ave it in for Tregarland women…well, ’er would, wouldn’t ’er?”

“But she is dead, Seth. How could it be?”

He looked at me in amazement. “ ’Er comes back, don’t ’er? I seen ’er.”

“You’ve seen her! But she’s dead.”

“She come back and ’er got the first Mrs. Tregarland, didn’t ’er? ’Er beckoned her into the sea. I seen ’er. Then…Miss…the sea nearly got you.”

“I’m not a Tregarland, Seth.”

“Aye…but your sister be. That’s close enough for ’er.”

Poor Seth. He was indeed crazy. But now he had saddled the horse and she was ready for me.

“Thank you, Seth,” I said, smiling.

“She be a good ’un,” he said. He patted Starlight lovingly. “You be a good ’un,” he said in her ear and she rubbed her nose into his hand.

I rode out of the stables, wondering what was going on in Seth’s muddled mind.

I made my way to the field. There was no one there and I felt deeply disappointed. I was about to ride away when I hesitated. After all, there had been no fixed arrangement. I looked at my watch. It was about five minutes earlier than last time.

I dismounted and, tethering Starlight to a tree, I sat down, leaning against a hedge. I was still thinking about Seth and how pleasant it would be to talk to Jowan Jermyn when I saw him riding toward me.

He pulled up sharply.

“Oh,” I said, “so you came.”

“Naturally. I came yesterday and the day before.”

“I am sorry. But it wasn’t a definite arrangement, was it?”

He shook his head. “Well, now you are here, it’s cider time once more. Let’s see, it was the Horned Stag last time. This time it shall be the Lion’s Head. That’s in another fishing village slightly smaller than Poldown, similar and yet different. I think you will like it. May I say how pleased I am to see you.”

“And I you.”

“That is nice to hear. Would you like to go now?”

I had risen to my feet and he helped me mount Starlight and soon we were riding out of the field.

“Did you have an interesting time in London?”

“Very interesting, thank you. And you…here?”

“Much as usual. We go westwards. It’s about four miles along the coast. Will that suit you?”

I said it sounded good.

He asked about Dorabella and we talked lightly as we rode along. Often we had to go in single file through narrow lanes so it was not possible to hold much of a conversation.

We climbed fairly high and then descended into the fishing village to the Lion’s Head on the sea front.

There were stables where we could leave the horses and we did this and went into the inn parlor.

There was a similarity between these hotels and it would be hard to distinguish one from another. There was the traditional inglenook and the cosy, intimate atmosphere.

We sat down and he ordered cider.

“You’ll find little difference in that, either,” he said. “I expect it all comes from the same source.”

When we were alone he went on: “Congratulations! I heard you have been snatched from the jaws of death.”

I laughed. “Dorabella was right…”

“In what way?”

“She said you would have heard of it through the local news service.”

“But of course. I was told at breakfast this morning by one of the servants. He has a dramatic touch. ‘That there Miss what’s-her-name, you do know, sir, the new one’s sister up at Tregarland’s, ’er had a near shave ’er did. Caught in that there cove. You do know how easy that can be, sir, the way that old tide do come in there…all of a rush like. And what was ’er doing down there? Didn’t know nothing about tides seemingly.’ ”

His reproduction of the accent was very good. I laughed and he sat back surveying me.

“The reporting is fairly accurate,” I said. “I was caught by the tide.”

His face was grave now. “It could have been dangerous,” he said.

“I know now. I just didn’t think of it.”

“Very remiss of you.”

“Well, it was an experience.”

“I believe someone said, ‘Experience is the name we give to our mistakes.’ ”

“It could only have been Oscar Wilde. It’s true, of course. But our mistakes do teach us not to repeat our follies.”

“Well, then, it was not in vain.”

“Gordon Lewyth was wonderful.”

“I am sure he was. Quite a feat, I imagine, on that cliff face.”

“It was a great good fortune for me that he happened to be passing and saw me.”

He looked at me intently and said: “That was his good luck. I wish it had been mine.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Poor Lewyth. He’s in an invidious position.”

“He is devoted to Tregarland’s.”

“Yes, but the place will never be his. A pity. He’s done more for it than anyone. James Tregarland…”

“That’s old Mr. Tregarland?”

“Yes. He was letting the place run to ruin. He was not meant for the land. He’s clever, they say. He used to be something of a wit, I believe. He spent hardly any time here. He was always in London. Something of a gambler. He married late in life…a charming lady, by all accounts, but he wasn’t the sort to settle down. He just married for the sake of the family—so I’ve heard. His wife provided the required son, Dermot, and after a year or so, she died. Then the Lewyths came. She was a good-looking woman…some vague family connection, it was said, and with her her young son. Things settled down for a while, but James Tregarland was never one for the land. It was lucky that when Gordon grew up he could take over. He saved the place from disaster…just in time. Such estates can stand one indifferent generation but no more, so it was like a miracle that Gordon could take over and so efficiently. Though it is all for Dermot’s benefit.”

“Dermot has the same indifference.”

“It seems so. They should thank Heaven for Gordon.”

“As I did yesterday. By the way, that boy in the stables. Do you know anything about him?”

He looked puzzled.

“I wondered if he would be an item of news. He seems a little mad. He said such a strange thing to me today just as I was coming out. He had evidently heard what happened on the cliffs yesterday, and he seemed to think that some evil force was at work to harm me.”

“Harm you?”

“Because of my connection with the Tregarlands…sister of the bride.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

“Something about the curse. That ancestor of yours who walked into the sea because of her blighted love affair is now taking her revenge on Tregarland women.”

“Poor old Seth, was it? He’s said to be a little addlepated.”

“Piskymazed, I have heard.”

“It’s the same thing. It means mental confusion. He must have heard about your adventure yesterday and he thought of the first Mrs. Tregarland who was drowned. He connected the two.”

“Has he always been like that?”

“Oh, no. Something happened to him when he was about ten. He is the son of one of the grooms. He has a way with horses. There was an incident in the stables one day. A wild horse which broke free. The boy was there. He was knocked down and the horse rode over him. It damaged his head, and he has been strange ever since.”

“That would account for it, I suppose.”

Then I told him about Mrs. Pardell and how she had talked to me.

“You did well,” he said. “She is not usually so forthcoming.”

“I was sorry for her. I think she really cared about her daughter.”

“She is one of those people who find it difficult to express their feelings. They always miss something, I think, don’t you?”

I said I thought they might.