She said, "Miss Drusilla, I have waited to find you alone. Miss Lucille wants very much to speak to you."

"What?" I cried. "Now?"

"Yes," she answered. "This moment."

"Lavinia will be waiting for me."

"Never mind that one now."

I followed her into the house and up the staircase, along corridors to the room in the west wing where Miss Lucille was waiting for me.

She was seated in a chair near the window that looked down on the paddock and from which she had watched me.

"Come here, child," she said.

I went to her. She took my hand and looked searchingly into my face. "Bring a chair, Ayesha," she said.

Ayesha brought one and it was placed very near Miss Lucille.

Ayesha then withdrew and I was alone with the old lady.

"Tell me what made you do it," she said. "What made you steal the fan?"

I explained that Fabian was a great Roman and that Lavinia and I were his slaves. He was testing us and giving us difficult tasks. Mine was to bring a peacock fan to him, and I knew there was one in that room, so I came and took it.

"So Fabian is involved in this. There are two of you. But you were the one who took it and that means that for a while it was in your possession ... yours. That will be remembered."

"Who will remember?"

"Fate, my dear child. I am sorry you took the fan. Anything else you might have taken for your game and no harm done, but there is something about a peacock's feathers ... something mystic ... and menacing."

I shivered and looked around me. "Are they unlucky?" I asked.

She looked mournful. "You are a nice little girl and I am sorry you touched it. You will have to be on your guard now."

"Why?" I asked excitedly.

"Because that fan brings tragedy."

"How can it?"

"I do not know how. I only know it does."

"If you think that, why do you keep it?"

"Because I have paid for my possession."

"How do you pay?"

"I paid with my life's happiness."

"Shouldn't you throw the fan away?"

She shook her head. "No. One must never do that. To do so is to pass on the curse."

"The curse!" This was getting more and more fantastic. It seemed even wilder than my father's version of the maiden being turned into a white cow.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it is written."

"Who wrote it?"

She shook her head and I went on, "How can a feather fan be unlucky? It is, after all, only a fan, and who could harm the one who had it? The peacock whose feathers it was must be dead a long time ago."

"You have not been in India, my child. Strange things happen there. I have seen men in bazaars charm poisonous snakes and make them docile. I have seen what is called the Rope Trick when a seer will make a rope stand on end without support and a little boy climb it. If you were in India you would believe these things. Here people are too materialistic; they are not in tune with the mystic. If I had never had that fan I should be a happy wife and mother."

"Why do you watch me? Why do you send for me and tell me all this?"

"Because you have had the fan in your possession. You have been its owner. The ill luck could touch you. I want you to take care."

"I never thought for an instant that it was mine. I just took it for a while because Fabian commanded me to take it. That was all. It was just a game."

I thought: She is mad. How can a fan be evil? How could someone turn a woman into a white cow? My father seemed to believe this though, which was extraordinary. At least he talked as though he believed it. But then the Greeks were more real to him than his own household.

"How can you be sure that the fan is unlucky?" I asked.

"Because of what happened to me." She turned to me and fixed her tragic eyes on me, but they seemed to be staring past me as though she were seeing something which was not in this room.

"I was so happy," she said. "Perhaps it is a mistake to be so happy. It is tempting the fates. Gerald was wonderful. I met him in Delhi. Our families have interests there. They thought it would be good for me to go out for a while. There is a good social life among the English and the members of the Company ... that is, the East India Company, and we were involved in that. So were Gerald and his family. That was why he was out there. He was so handsome and so charming ... there could never have been anyone like him. We were in love with each other from the first day we met."

She turned to smile at me. "You are too young to understand, my child. It was ... perfect. His family were pleased ... so were mine. There was no reason why we should not be married. Everyone was delighted when we announced our engagement. My family gave a ball to celebrate the occasion. It was really glittering. I wish I could describe India to you, my dear. It was a wonderful life we had. Who would have guessed that there was a tragedy waiting to spring up on us? It came suddenly ... like a thief in the night, as it says in the Bible, I believe. So it came to me."

"Was it because of the fan?" I asked tremulously.

"Oh, the fan. How young we were! How innocent of life! We went to the bazaar together, for when we were officially engaged that was allowed. It was wonderful. Bazaars are so fascinating, though I was always a little afraid of them, though not with Gerald, of course. It was thrilling ... the snake charmers ... the streets ... the strange music ... the pungent smell that is India. Goods to sell ... beautiful silks and ivory ... and strange things to eat. It was exciting. And as we went along we saw the man selling fans. I was instantly struck by them. 'How lovely they are!' I cried. Gerald said, 'They are very pretty. You must have one.' I remember the man who sold them. He was badly crippled. He could not stand up. He sat on a mat. I remember the way he smiled at us. I did not notice it then, but afterwards it came back to me. It was ... evil. Gerald unfurled the fan and I took it. It was doubly precious to me because he had given it to me. Gerald laughed at my delight in it. He held my arm tightly. People looked at us as we passed along. I suppose it was because we looked happy. Back in my room I opened the fan. I put it on a table so that I could see it all the time. When my Indian servant came in, she stared at it in horror. She said, 'Peacock-feather fan ... Oh no, no, Missie Lucille ... they bring evil ... You must not keep it here.' I answered, 'Don't be silly. My fiance gave it to me and I shall always treasure it for that reason. It is his first gift to me.' She shook her head and covered her face with her hands as though to shut out the sight of it. Then she said, 'I will take it back to the man who sold it to you . . though now it has been yours ... the evil is there ... but perhaps a small evil.' I thought she was crazy and I wouldn't let her touch it."

She stopped speaking and the tears began to run down her cheeks.

"I loved the fan," she went on after a while. "It was the first thing he gave me after our engagement. When I awoke in the morning it was the first thing I saw. Always, I told myself, I will remember that moment in the bazaar when he bought it for me. He laughed at my obsession with it. I did not know it then, but I do now. It had already cast its spell on me. 'It is only a fan,' said Gerald. 'Why do you care so much for it?' I told him why and he went on, 'Then I will make it more worthy of your regard. I shall have something precious put in it, and every time you see it you will be reminded of how much I care for you.'

"He said he would take it to a jeweller he knew in Delhi. The man was a craftsman. When I received the fan back it would indeed be something to be proud of. I was delighted and so happy. I ought to have known happiness like that does not last. He took the fan and went into the centre of the town. I have never forgotten that day. Every second of it it is engraved on my memory forever. He went into the jeweller's shop. He was there quite a long time. And when he came out ... they were waiting for him. There was often trouble. The Company kept it under control, but there were always the mad ones. They didn't see what good we were bringing to their country. They wanted us out. Gerald's family was important in the country ... as my family was. He was well known among them. When he came out of the jeweller's they shot him. He died there in the street."

"What a sad story. I am so sorry, Miss Lucille," I said.

"My dear child, I see you are. You are a good child. I am sorry you took the fan."

"You believe all that was due to the fan?"

"It was because of the fan that he was in that spot. I shall never forget the look in my servant's eyes. Somehow those people have a wisdom we lack. How I wish I had never seen that fan ... never gone into the bazaar that morning. How blithe and gay I had been ... and my foolish impulse had taken his life and ruined mine."

"It could have happened somewhere else."

"No, it was the fan. You see, he had taken it into the jeweller's shop. They must have followed him and waited for him outside."

"I think it could have happened without the fan."

She shook her head. "In time it came back to me. I will show you what was done." She sat there for a few moments with the tears coursing down her cheeks. Ayesha came in.

"There, there," she said. "You shouldn't have brought it all back to yourself. Dearie me, dearie me, it is not good, little mistress ... not good."

"Ayesha," she said. "Bring the fan to me."