He looked beyond me with a faraway look in his eyes, and he said, “There is only one way of making sure that he never does this again. That is by killing him.”

“But you are a man of peace,” I said.

“This is the way to bring peace. Sometimes it is necessary to remove someone who is corroding the society in which we live. We had to kill Spaniards when we defeated the Armada. I have no remorse for them. We were saving our country from a cruel enemy. We drove off those ships which carried the invader and his instruments of torture. I would fight again and again; I would kill any Spaniard who tried to land in England. This is different. This is a ship full of cargo, a trading ship. The wrecker wants that cargo so he lures the ship on to the rocks; he sends thousands of men and women to their deaths for he must make sure that there are no survivors to carry the tale of villainy where it might be acted on. No, there is only one way, I say.”

I looked at him fearfully. In his eyes there was a fanatical hatred—so alien to him.

“I am going to kill your father,” he said.

“No, Fenn,” I cried; and I put my arms about him.

He put them aside; then he looked at me sadly.

“It would always be between us,” he said. “He killed my father. I can never forget that nor forgive him. And I shall kill yours. You will never forget that either.”

He looked down at his father’s grave; then he turned away and left me there.

I ran after him. I had to stop him, I knew he meant what he said. He had idolized his father; he had gone on doing so after he was dead. He had refused to believe that he was dead and gone on dreaming of his return.

And my father was responsible for his death—he had killed him as certainly as though he had run him through with a cutlass and left him to die.

I heard the shouting voices above the wind.

“He be gone out,” said one.

I saw them in the Seaward courtyard. There were about four of the men who worked with my father.

“He be at the Teeth,” said Jack Emms, a dark-haired man with battered features.

“Why should he go there?” cried Fenn. “There’s no wreck. He’s been merciful of late. There has been no disaster there for the last two months to my knowledge.”

“There he be gone, Master.”

Fenn had the man by the throat. I had not known he was capable of such violence. It was born of anger which came from the love of his father. He could not forget that but for this man, his father would have been alive today.

“Tell me where he is. I will know,” he said, “or it will be the worse for you.”

I saw then that Fenn was a man with the strength of my father. I had thought him gentle and so he would be—gentle and tender; but he was an idealist as his father had been and now he was full of righteous anger.

“He be gone, Master, with Jan Leward. There always be cargo that stays in the foundered ships. We go out now and then to recover it.”

“I am going out there,” said Fenn. “I am going to catch him at his evil trade.”

“Nay, Master.”

“But yes,” cried Fenn. “Yes, yes!”

I was terrified. I pictured my father out there at the Teeth, with the howling wind whipping the waves to fury. And Fenn there … in the midst of his enemies.

I wanted to cry: “Don’t go. Jack Emms is your enemy. All these men are your enemies. They will destroy you because you have come among them like an avenging angel. You are trying to destroy their lucrative business. Fenn, don’t go.”

It would be to plead in vain. He was going to confront my father. He was going to accuse him of the murder of his father; and I knew he planned to kill him. He would not take the cowardly way out, to go away with me and live far away from Castle Paling. He was right, for neither of us could do this. I knew too that when the wind howled and the storms raged we should be thinking of sailors in peril near the Devil’s Teeth; and the cries of drowning men would haunt us through the years.

But if he was going out there, I was going with him. I leaped into the boat.

“No, Tamsyn,” shouted Fenn.

“If you go,” I retorted, “I am coming with you.”

Fenn looked at me and his fear for me overcame his fury against my father.

I said: “My father is a murderer. He has been responsible for the deaths of thousands.” I was thinking of my mother. He had not killed her but he had connived at her murder and married her murderess. And since her death he had not been a happy man. Fenn must not suffer a murderer’s remorse. I must save him from that. “Fenn,” I went on, “I beg of you, do not have his death on your conscience.”

His face hardened. “He killed my father.”

“I know … I know. But it is not for you to kill him. If you do the memory will haunt you all your life. Fenn, we have found each other. Let us think of that.”

But I could see he was remembering the father whom he had loved—gentle Fennimore Landor, who had never sought to harm anyone and who had dreamed idealistic dreams of bringing prosperity to his country.

We had reached the Devil’s Teeth. How malevolent they looked with a tetchy sea swirling threateningly about them!

A wooden chest with iron bands had been caught in the rocks and it was this which my father was trying to salvage.

“Colum Casvellyn,” shouted Fenn. “You killed my father and I’m going to kill you.”

My father turned sharply to look at him and as he did so the boat rocked dangerously. He stared at us for a few seconds in amazement, then he cried: “You fools. Go back. There’s danger here. What do you know of these rocks?”

“I know this,” answered Fenn. “You lured my father to death on them.”

“Go away, you oaf! Take yourself out of my affairs.”

Fenn had stood up and I cried out in fear: “Fenn, be careful.”

I heard my father’s derisive laughter.

“Yes, be careful. Go away, you … trader. You don’t understand this business. It’s too dangerous for you, boy.”

At that moment my father’s boat tipped suddenly and he was pitched forward. The boat turned over and he was in the water. I heard him give a cry of agony as he threw up his hands and sank. He emerged a few seconds later. The water was up to his neck.

“I’ll get him,” cried Fenn.

“It’s too dangerous,” I warned, but Fenn was out of our boat swimming cautiously to that spot where my father was.

“Go away,” shouted my father. “I’m caught. The Teeth have got me. Can’t pull myself free. You’ll kill yourself, you fool.”

Fenn ignored him.

Minutes passed while I watched in terror. The water was stained red and I thought: They will both be lost.

“Fenn, Fenn,” I cried. “It’s no good. There’s nothing you can do.”

But he did not listen to me.

It seemed a long time before I helped him pull my father’s mangled body into the boat.

He lay on his bed, my bold cruel father. The physician had seen him. Both his legs were injured. He had prided himself that he knew the Devil’s Teeth better than any living man, but they had caught him in the end. The eddies about the rocks were notoriously dangerous and when he had fallen into the sea he had been immediately sucked under. Strong swimmer that he was, he could do nothing against such odds, for he had fallen between the two rocks known as the Canines, the most dangerous of them all. And Fenn had saved his life. That is what makes me so proud. He had intended to kill him and in that moment when my father lay helpless and all Fenn would have had to do was leave him to his fate, he had risked his own life to save that which a short while before he had threatened to take.

So Fenn brought home my father’s poor mangled body and we did not need the physician to tell us that he would never walk again.

Melanie was there, cool and efficient. Dear good Melanie, we all had reason to be grateful that she belonged to our family, then—and more so in the years to come.