“Only a dream,” I said aloud. Then I was alert. Above the gentle murmur of the waves I heard a sound below. Voices … and then the creak of a door.

I leaped off the bed and stood staring at the door.

I was not alone on the island. I was not alone in the house.

Voices! Whispering voices! One deep, one of a higher pitch. I heard a sound that could have been a footstep.

“You’re imagining it” I whispered.

No. There was the creak of a stair, and the unmistakable sound of stealthy footsteps.

My heart was beating so loudly that it stopped my thinking. I was standing against the door listening. Those were undoubtedly footsteps on the stairs. Then I heard a voice, a female voice. “Let’s go. I don’t like it”

A low laugh—a man’s laugh.

One thing was certain. Whoever these were, they were no ghosts, and at any moment they would burst into the room. I ran to the dressing table and scrambled under the dust sheet. I had only just succeeded in biding myself when the door opened.

“Ah! Here we are!” said a voice I knew.

“A candle … a light, Mr. Bevil.” That was the woman.

“Whoever is in the house is hiding here,” said Bevil Menfrey.

He was pulling off the dust covers, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he reached the dressing table.

I looked up at him, and even at such a moment I thought how magnificent he looked in candlelight. He had become older since I last saw him. He was indeed a man. He looked enormously tall, and the candlelight threw a long shadow of him on the wall with the smaller figure of the woman cowering behind him.

“Good God!” he cried. “It’s Harriet Delvaney. Come out you little wretch. What are you doing here?”

Then, stooping, he gripped me by the arm and pulled me up.

“Can’t say I admire your choice of a residence. How long have you been here?”

“This is the second night.”

He turned to his companion, and I saw that she was a young and pretty girl whom I did not know.

“Well. The mystery’s solved, then.”

“What are you going to do, Mr. Bevil?” asked the girl; and then I knew that she was one of the village girls who wouldn’t be invited as a guest to Menfreya, so I wondered what she was doing here at this time of night with Bevil.

“There’s only one thing to do. I’m going to row her straight back to the mainland; and well have to let her father know she’s found.”

“Oh … the wicked little thing!”

“And what about you?” I asked.

That made Bevil laugh again. “Yes,” he said, “what about you and what about me? No recriminations on either side, eh, Harriet?”

“No,” I said, not understanding, but suddenly almost happy—first, because I was not going to have to spend the rest of the night alone on the island, and secondly, because he was amused by what I had done and because I understood that, just as he had discovered me where I should not be, so bad I discovered him.

He looked down at me. “You shouldn’t have left the candle burning,” he said. “Very careless. We saw the flickering light in the window almost as soon as we landed.” His face was suddenly stern. “Do you know, Miss Harriet, that there’s great consternation about you. They’ve all but decided to drag the Thames.”

He was joking; but he was puzzled, and again I felt that glow of pleasure. Never before had I had his undivided attention; I could see that he had quite forgotten his companion.

We went down to the boat, and in a short time we had reached the mainland.

He said to the girl: “You go now.”

Her mouth slackened and she looked at him in surprise, but he said impatiently, “Yes, go.”

She gave him a rather sullen look and, lifting her skirts about her thighs, stepped over the side of the boat into the shallow water. Her feet were bare and she stood for a moment with the water lapping about her ankles to look back and see if Bevil was watching. He wasn’t He was looking at me, his hands resting on the oars.

“Why did you do it?” he said.

“I wanted to.”

“You ran away to spend a night on that island?”

“Not to do that.”

“How did you get there?”

I didn’t answer. I was not going to involve Gwennan.

“You’re an odd child, Harriet,” he said. “I suspect that you worry too much about things that are not half as important as you imagine them to be.”

“You can’t know how important my being lame is to me.” I was passionately angry suddenly. “You say it’s not important Nor is it to you. But you don’t have to limp about, do you? Of course, you can imagine it is not important It isn’t to you.”

He looked startled. “My dear Harriet, how vehement you are. People don’t like you less for being lame. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. But that’s not the question at the moment, is it? You have run away. There’s a great fuss about it. And now you are discovered. What are you going to do? You’re not planning to run away from me, are you? Because I shall catch you and bring you back. I want to help you.” He leaned towards me. His eyes were quizzical and not without tenderness, which warmed me and made me happy. “Was life impossible there?”

I nodded.

“Your father, I suppose.” He sighed. “My poor little Harriet I’m afraid I’ll have to take you back. I’ll have to say I found you. If I didn’t, I’d be an accessory after the fact or something like that. Who brought you over? Gwennan, I suppose. She’s been glowing with importance all day. So it was Gwennan!”

I did not answer.

“Honor bright,” he said. “Very creditable. Well, there’s nothing to be done but face the music. But tell me this: What were your intentions?”

“I don’t know.”

“You mean you just ran away without deciding where you would run to?”

“I came down here.”

“By train, I suppose. That was daring of you, But; you should have had a plan of campaign, you know. And what did you hope to achieve?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head. Then his face was suddenly tender again. “Poor Harriet, it must have been bad.”

“I heard Aunt Clarissa talking about the difficulty of finding a husband for me,” I blurted out “Because,” I added, “I was ...”

“Well, don’t let that worry you. Who knows, I might marry you myself.”

I laughed.

“I resent that,” he said mockingly. “Here I am making a perfectly reasonable suggestion, and you treat it with scorn.”

“Well,” I said, “it wasn’t serious.”

“People never treat me seriously. I’m too often flippant” He shipped the oars and, leaning towards me, kissed me on the forehead. I was fully aware then of the charm of the Men treys.

When he helped me out of the boat he held me for a moment, his face close to mine.

“Don’t forget,” he said, “there’ll be a row. But it’ll pass. Come on. Now we’ll go and face the music.”

The dogs started to bark as we crossed the courtyard.

The hall was dimly lighted by two gas jets in what looked like lanterns, and there was just enough light to show the vaulted ceiling and the armored figures at the foot of the staircase.

Bevil shouted so that his voice echoed up to the rafters. “Come and see what I have found. Harriet Delvaney! I’ve got her here.”

Then the household was alive. The sounds of voices started up everywhere.

Sir Endelion and Lady Menfrey came first; then some of the servants, and I saw Gwennan at the top of the staircase looking at me with wide, accusing eyes.

I felt relieved because the time had not yet come when I said to myself: What next? I felt excited because this night’s adventure had brought me closer to Bevil.

I sat in the library drinking hot milk.

Lady Menfrey kept murmuring: “Harriet, but how could you? Your poor father … frantic … quite frantic.”

“We’ve had to telegraph him,” Sir Endelion told me apologetically, pulling at his mustache. I thought then how much nicer sinners were. Sir Endelion wasn’t half as shocked as Lady Menfrey; nor had Bevil been.

Bevil sat on die table, smiling at me, as though he wanted to keep my spirits up. I couldn’t feel unhappy or frightened while he was there.

Gwennan had come in quietly so that she wouldn’t be seen and sent back to bed; she was watching me intently.

“What he will say I can’t imagine,” sighed Lady Menfrey. “At least we’ve done our best...”

“You’ll have to face the music, my dear.” That was Six Endelion, and he sounded just like Bevil.

“Exactly my words,” said Bevil. “Don’t let us repeat ourselves. I think that Harriet should go to bed and sleep; then she will be in better form for the musical interlude.”

“I’ve told Pengelly to have a bed prepared,” Lady Menfrey said.

“The room next to mine,” added Gwennan.

“Gwennan, my dear, what are you doing here? You should be in bed and asleep.” Lady Menfrey looked worried. Her family, I guessed, was a source of continual anxiety to her.

“Awakened by the arrival of Harriet,” said Bevil. “It must have been a great shock to her.”

“It was,” retorted Gwennan defiantly.

“Such a surprise?” asked Bevil.

Gwennan scowled at her brother.

“The last place you would have expected to find her.”

“You too?” suggested Gwennan. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have decided to go there tonight”

Sir Endelion burst into loud laughter; Lady Menfrey looked bewildered. I thought what an exciting household this was, and fervently wished that I belonged to it I could see that all except Lady Menfrey were taking a very lenient view of what I had done, and Lady Menfrey’s opinion did not count for much.