Fanny stood at the door of the house overlooking the sea and Menfreya, as though momentarily reluctant to tear herself away.

“It’s a sight,” she admitted grudgingly.

And a sight it was even on this January day, with the sea a darkish green crimped with frothy waves. I stood with her, looking back to Menfreya—gray, almost menacing in the afternoon light.

Fanny’s eyes were gleaming with an expression I did not understand.

“Come on in. I want you to see this cellar.”

I followed her into the kitchen, where with some effort she lifted the flagstone. “You’ve got to understand it,” she said, “It’s not easy to open.” Having exposed a cavity in the floor, she turned to a cupboard and taking out an iron candlestick stuck in a candle and lighted it.

“There are some stone steps leading down into this cellar,” she said. “I’m going to have a look.”

“You must be careful, Fanny.”

“I’ll be careful all right. It’s where they used to hide the kegs of whiskey, Jem Tomrit told me.”

“He told you?”

“Yes, he told me. You remember how upset he was when he thought there was a ghost on the island. He saw a man there … clear as he saw me, he told me. He said it was a ghost of one of them that had been drowned at sea. Here, hold this candle a minute. Give it to me when I’m down.”

She descended and held out her hand for the candle. I heard her exclamation when I handed it to her. “Oh, I say!”

“I’m coming to have a look.”

“You take care. These steps are steep. Give me your hand.”

I descended four or five steps and saw that Fanny was right. We were in a sort of cellar. I saw there were several more steps to be descended as I peered down.

I went down a few steps to stare into the darkness below me when suddenly there was a thud, and the shaft of light which had come through the trap door from the kitchen disappeared. I looked behind me.

“The trap door has fallen, shutting us in!” I said. “Yes, Miss Harriet” Her voice was soothing. “Don’t worry. It’ll be all right”

“It's so dark.”

“Your eyes will get accustomed to the gloom in a minute.”

I descended a few more steps, and it was as though my foot was seized in an icy grip. Water!

“Fanny,” I cautioned. “Be careful. There’s water down here.”

“It gets flooded by the high tides.”

“Well, the thing is to get that door open and let in some light This candle’s not much good.”

“Look over there,” said Fanny. “There’s light over there.”

“Why, yes. It’s coming through a grating.” That grating is in the garden. It was overgrown by brambles till I cleared them away.”

“Why?”

“I thought it best”

”So you knew about this, Fanny?”

“Oh yes, I knew. I told you I went to see Jem Tomrit I used to sit with him and make him talk to me. He was worried. You see, he thought the ghosts had come back to the island … the ghosts of dead men, and he was afraid they’d come to haunt him”

“Why should they?’

“Because he was a murderer of men. This was where they used to bring the smuggled goods, and when the excise men was on their tracks they’d lure them here. They used to let them search the place, and they’d leave the trap door not exactly open but so as it could be seen there was a trap door there. Down they’d go… never to come out alive,”

“It’s a horrible place. I’ve seen enough of it”

“Well, when the tide’s high the water comes in. It comes through that grating, see … That’s what it’s put there for.

This was built with an express purpose, so Jem Tomrit told me. Do you know what today is?”

Today, Fanny?”

“Well, this Jem Tomrit told me a lot, he did. There’s times when the tide comes up higher than ever. It’s called spring tide, and there’s a reason for it. The moon and the sun or something. Don’t ask me. It happens at this time of the year, seemingly. Well, it’ll be tonight at half past eight”

I had begun to shiver—not so much with the cold dampness of this place but by the strangeness of Fanny.

“At spring tide this cellar is flooded right up to the top.”

“Fanny,” I said, “let’s get out of this place. It’s damp and cold. We’ll explore it properly later.”

“How are we going to get out?” she asked.

“The way we came in, of course.”

“It’s a snap lock. It shuts itself. You can only open it from outside. The smugglers saw to that”

“That’s absurd.”

“I’m only saying what Jem Tomrit told me.”

“Then somebody’s shut us in.”

“Yes,” she said slowly, “someone’s shut us in.” She sat down on one of the steps and covered her face with the hand which was not holding the candle. “I had to be with you. I couldn’t leave you alone.”

“Fanny,” I said, “you know something you haven’t told me.”

“Yes, Miss Harriet”

“You know that someone is trying to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re trying to stop them. But what are we doing here? Are you telling me that someone has shut us in this place?”

She rocked herself to and fro.

“You’ll drop the candle,” I said. I was not completely frightened yet, because Fanny was beside me. It was like waking from a strange nightmare during my childhood and screaming. Fanny had come to comfort me then; her presence meant security. She gave me that reassurance now.

“You knew about this place,” I said, “because Jem Tomrit told you. You say it’s flooded at high tide, and tonight there’s a spring tide. That’s at eighty-thirty. It’s not four yet. We’ll get out before high tide. We shall be missed.”

“Who’d think of looking here?”

“There’s another thing that struck me. If the water floods this place at high tide, where does it go afterwards? A certain amount sinks into the sandy floor, I suppose, but wouldn’t there be much more water than this?”

“There was a big stone over the grating. Jem Tomrit told me how they used to take it away when they’d got prisoners here. Then they’d bail out after.”

“There’s no big stone over the grating now,” I said.

“It was hidden by brambles … and it’s been taken away. So now it’s how it used to be when this cellar was used for murder.”

“Fanny,” I said, “you’re not being very clear. You say you cleared the brambles. Then who took the stone away? Who shut the trap door just then? Fanny! Somebody is in this house now. They heard us go into the kitchen. They knew we had come down here and they shut us in!”

“He was here,” she said. “That was what frightened the wits out of Jem Tomrit. He saw him and he thought it was the ghost of a dead excise man, but it weren’t It were my Billy.”

“Your Billy. But Billy died years and years ago … before I was born.”

“Billy loved me true, but there was one he loved better. It was the sea. The sea was his mistress, and he’d leave me for her. You ought to have heard him talk about the sea. You knew then what he loved best. When he went away he said: ‘Don’t be frightened, Fanny. I’ll come back for you … I'll come back one day. I’ll take you to sea with me, one day. You wait for that, Fanny … and you be ready when the time comes. Then suddenly it came to me what he meant. There’d be a sign. And now it’s come.”

“Fanny,” I said, “what has happened to you? Let’s get out of this place.”

“We’ll get out of it in our own good tune. Hell be waiting for us. We’ll be with him … the two of us … safe and sound.”

“You’re not being sensible, Fanny. Do you remember how you used to tell me to be sensible. I’m going to try and open that trap door.”

“You’ll hurt yourself, lovey. I told you it can only be opened from the outside.”

“I don’t think you’re right, Fanny.”

“I am. I made sure. I didn’t want anything to go wrong.”

“Fanny! Fanny! What are you saying?”

I sat down on the cold step beside her. This companion of my youth, this beloved nurse, this woman to whom I had always turned for comfort had become a stranger.

“Fanny,” I said gently, “let’s try and understand what this is all about. Let’s sort it out, shall we?”

“There’s nothing to sort out, my pet.”

I stared into the darkness and wondered how much water there was down there, how much truth there was hi this Story of smugglers and excise men. I thought of Menfreya — my parents-in-law resting till tea, which they would probably take in their own rooms. Bevil would return. Perhaps for dinner? Perhaps after. But surely I should be missed by dinnertime! When I didn’t appear they would send a maid to my room to see if I wanted anything sent up. I should not be there; then they would grow a little anxious. Dinner at eight—high tide at eight-thirty. They would never be in’ time.

But I couldn't believe in death. Not death at Fanny’s hands. In fact I couldn’t believe this was really happening to me. It was like one of those fantastic nightmares which used to haunt my childhood.

I walked to the top of the steps and tried to push open the door. It was unyielding. Of course, it hadn’t been opened for years. It was bound to be difficult. I didn’t believe this story of spring locks.

I could not accept Fanny as a murderess. I sat down beside her. I thought: It must be four o’clock. How soon before the water starts coming in? Slowly at first, and then … the flood. Four hours … to wait for death.

I couldn’t accept it.

“Fanny,” I said, “I want to understand what this means. I want to talk to you.”

She said: “You’re frightened, are you?”

“I don’t want to die, Fanny.”

“Lord bless you, there’s nothing to worry about. Billy talked to me about death by drowning. He said it was the easiest way out. Billy will be there waiting for me … and I couldn’t leave you behind, could I? I couldn’t—not with all them that were trying to hurt you. I didn’t want you to die like your stepmother. Drowning’s better. ‘It’s easy,' I said to myself. You see, they wanted you out of the way … the two of them. They couldn’t fool me. He was never the one for you. I warned you against him. He was too fond of the women … just as Billy was too fond of the sea. I’d have liked Billy to take a nice comfortable job ashore. He wouldn’t. Not him. You see he couldn’t leave it alone. It’s the same thing. With Billy the sea, and with him … women. And since she came … with her wicked ways … I knew I couldn’t leave you … I knew her. She was going to get him; and now she’s carrying the child, she’s desperate. She’d got the stuff for her complexion just like your stepmother … but that poor lady killed herself with it … she was going to kill you.”