I looked at her and I thought: She is right. No more reproaches. I need never shudder when I look at Nelly; the scar on her back is no longer a scar on my soul. I did not ruin Mellyora's life when I saved the Abbas for Carlyon. There need be no more regrets.

On impulse I went to Mellyora and put my arms about her. She smiled up at me, and I bent and kissed her forehead. "You are right," I said. "We are free."

I made two discoveries within the next few weeks.

The family solicitor came to the Abbas to see me. He had depressing news. For some years the St, Larnston fortunes had been on the wane and several economies were needed.

Judith Derrise had bolstered up the position with her dowry, but it was to have been paid over a number of years and as she was dead and there were no children of the marriage, the remainder of the dowry would not be paid. Johnny's gambling had expedited the disaster which, with careful economies, would have to be staved off and, had Judith lived, would never have occurred.

Johnny had heavily mortgaged certain properties to pay for his gambling debts; in a few months capital would have to be raised. There seemed to be no alternative but to sell the Abbas.

The situation was similar to that which had threatened the family some generations back. Then the tin mine had proved a source of wealth and the family retained the old mansion.

Some action within the next few months was vital.

What action? I demanded to know.

The solicitor looked at me kindly. He was sorry for me. My husband had disappeared. Large sums of money belonging to the estate could not be accounted for, but they had passed through Johnny's hands, probably lost in gambling. In any case, Johnny had disappeared and I was left to salvage what I could for my son. Justin was about to renounce the world and all his possessions except a small private income which would go to the monastery where he would spend the rest of his days.

"I think, Mrs. St. Larnston," the solicitor said, "that you should leave the Abbas for the Dower House which is vacant just now. If you lived there you would considerably reduce your expenses."

"And the Abbas?"

"You might find a tenant. But I doubt whether that would solve your difficulties. It may be necessary to sell the Abbas... "

"Sell the Abbas! It has been in the possession of the St. Larnston family for generations."

He lifted his shoulders. "Many estates like this one are changing hands nowadays."

"There is my son... ."

"Well, he is young and it is not as though he has spent a great number of years in the place." Seeing my distress he softened. "It may not come to that."

"There is the mine," I said. "It saved the Abbas once. It will save it again."

I asked Saul Cundy to come and see me. I could not understand why the agitation to open the mine had stopped. I had made up my mind I was going to set work in motion at once, and the first and all-important discovery to make was whether or not there was tin in the mine.

I stood at the library window, waiting for Saul, looking out across the lawns to the meadow and the ring of stones. What a different scene there would be when the sound of the tinners' voices would be heard and I should see them going to work with their horn picks and wooden shovels. We should need machines. I knew little of the industry except what I had picked up from Granny but I did know that a certain Richard Trevithick had invented a high-pressure steam engine which hoisted out the ore and crushed and stamped it on the surface.

How strange it would be—all that noise, all that activity so near the ring of ancient stones. Well, it had happened before and it was the modem industry which was going to preserve the ancient house.

Tin meant money and money could save the Abbas.

I was growing impatient when at last Haggety announced that Saul Cundy was outside.

"Bring him in at once," I cried.

He came, hat in hand, but I fancied he found it difficult to meet my eye.

"Sit down," I said. "I think you know why I have asked you to call."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, you are aware that there is no news of my husband and that Sir Justin is far away and not in a position to manage affairs here. You headed a deputation some time ago and I did all I could to persuade my husband that you were right. Now I am going to give permission for an investigation to be made. If there is tin in the St. Larnston mine, then there will be work for all those who want it"

Saul Cundy twirled his hat round and round in his hands and stared at the tips of his boots.

"Ma'am," he said, "twouldn't be no good. St. Larnston mine be nothing but an old scat bal. There bain't be no tin there and there won't be no work for us here in this district."

I was aghast. All my plans for saving the Abbas were being destroyed by this slow-speaking giant.

"Nonsense," I said. "How can you know?"

"Because Ma'am, us have already made the investigation. We made 'un before Mr. Johnny was ... before Mr. St. Larnston went."

"You made it?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Us had our livings to think on. So a few on us got working on it at nights and I went down so I be certain sure there hain't no tin in the St. Larnston mine."

"I don't believe it"

"Tis so, Ma'am."

"You went down alone"?"

"I thought it was best like, there being a danger of collapse—seeing it were my idea in the first place."

"But ... I ... I shall get the experts to look into this."

"Cost you a mint of money, Ma'am ... and us tinners do know tin when we see it. Us have worked all our lives in the mine Ma'am. There hain't no fooling we."

"So that's why there's been no more agitation about opening the mine."

"Tis so. Ma'am. I and us tinners be going out to St. Agnes. There be work there for we. The best tin in Cornwall do come from St. Agnes way. We be leaving by the end of the week and we be taking the women and children with us. There be work for us there."

"I see. Then there is nothing more to be said."

He looked at me and I thought his eyes were like those of a spaniel. He seemed to be asking me for forgiveness. He would know of course that I needed the rich tin, for that all was not well at the Abbas would be common knowledge. It was Haggety and Mrs. Rolt and our servants who would now be wondering how they were going to live.

"I be sorry. Ma'am," he said.

"I wish you good fortune at St. Agnes," I answered. "You and everyone who goes there."

"Thank 'ee, Ma'am."

It was only after he had gone that I saw the double significance of this.

I knew, of course, that the men I had seen from my window were the tinners. They had been down the mine that very night and discovered it to be sterile. Then the thought hit me: that was before Johnny died. So they knew the mine had nothing to offer them. Why then should they kill Johnny? What was the point?

Then it was not these men who had killed him. Who then? Could it be that Johnny was not dead?

I discussed the future with Mellyora. She was becoming gay again; it was as though she had escaped from a spell Justin had put on her. This was the Mellyora who had championed me at the fair. Her adoration for Justin had made her meek, a patient Griselda; now she was recovering her own personality.

"You see yourself as a benevolent god, ruling us all," she told me. "The rest of us are like little kings whom you have put in charge of our kingdoms. If we do not rule as you think we should, you want to take over and rule for us."

"What a fantastic notion!"

"Not when you consider. You wanted to manage Joe's life ... Johnny's ... Carlyon's... ."

I thought with a twinge of remorse: Yours too, Mellyora. If you did but know it, I have governed your life too.

I should tell her one day because I should not be completely at rest until I did.

I decided that we must move to the Dower House. Haggety and the Salts found other employment. Tom Pengaster at last married Doll, and Daisy came with us to the Dower House. The solicitors took over the management of the estate and the Polores and Trelances stayed in their cottages and continued their work, while Mrs. Rolt remained at the Abbas as housekeeper—Florrie Trelance coming in from the cottages to help her.

The Abbas was to be let furnished, which could mean that, with care, by the time Carlyon was of age he might be able to afford to live in it himself. It seemed as satisfactory as a temporary arrangement could be. Each day I went to the Abbas to make sure that everything was being kept in order.

Carlyon was content with the Dower House; together Mellyora and I taught him. He was a docile pupil, though not a brilliant one and often I would see him looking wistfully out of the windows when the sun was shining. Every Saturday he accompanied Joe on his rounds and they were his red-letter days.

We had had only two prospective tenants. One had found the Abbas far too big; the other considered it eerie. I began to think it would remain empty, waiting for us to return.

It had always amazed me how important events burst suddenly upon one. I feel there should be some warning, some little premonition. But there rarely is.

I rose that morning rather late as I had overslept, and when I dressed and went down to breakfast I found a letter awaiting me from the agents who were dealing with the house. They were sending a client along that afternoon, and hoped three o'clock would be a convenient time.

I told Mellyora as we sat at breakfast.