Reuben was on the other side of that door, I told myself; and if he could find no other way he would break the glass. I could imagine his hand coming through the hole to undo the bolt. Then I should be at his mercy.

I wanted to get out of the house. I had started to run through the hall to the front door when I remembered Daisy. So I went to her room and awakened her. She had always been stupid and I did not waste time in explanations.

"Put something on quickly," I commanded. "We are going to the Abbas ... at once."

While she fumbled with her things I was thinking: I do not want to die. I want to go on living ... but differently.

Never had I realized before how precious my life was. And it seemed to me that my own thoughts mocked me. Your life is precious to you ... to be lived the way you want to live it. What of others? Would they not feel the same?

I gripped Daisy's hand and ran down the stairs with her. I pulled at the bolt on the front door.

As we stepped out of the house my arm was caught in a strong grip; and in that half second of terror, I knew I was going to fight for my life with all my strength.

"Kerensa!"

Not Reuben then. Kim! His face stern and anxious.

"So ... it is you!"

"My God," he said almost curtly, "you didn't think we were going to leave you alone!"

We? Mellyora too. It was always Mellyora and Kim.

"So it was you who were prowling round the house! You frightened me. I saw you from my bedroom. I thought you were Reuben."

"That's to the good," he retorted. "Perhaps you're ready now to come to the Abbas."

So we went. I didn't sleep all that night. I sat at my window in the house which had played such a large part in my life. I saw the sunrise in a scarlet sky that for a moment or two touched the stones with a rosy glow.

In the morning we heard that they had caught Reuben.

"Thank God!" said Kim. And I too, thanked God. For something had happened to me during that night. It was as though a chink of light had shone through the darkness which enveloped me. This was not the end of my life. I was young; I was beautiful; and Kim and Mellyora could say Thank God because I was alive.

It was a year or so after that night when Reuben Pengaster died. Mellyora brought me the news. She did not mention it but I knew how she had been shadowed by her fear for me. She was radiant on that day and I loved her. My love spread over me, warming me like the sun.

Kim joined us.

"I shall sleep peacefully again," he said. "I'll tell you now, I've lived in fear that he would get out and come for you."

I smiled at him. There was scarcely any bitterness. He was Mellyora's husband and since that night of revelation I had begun to see how right and fitting it was that he should be. I had loved him for his strength and goodness, the manliness of him; I had built him into my dream until I believed that he was as necessary to my happiness as the Abbas. But dreams could never take the place of reality; and on a night of terror when I believed that for the second time in my life I was about to face death, I began to finish with dreams.

Kim was not for me. I admired him; I loved him still, but differently. My feelings for him had gradually been changing. I had even begun to see that, had I married him, our marriage would not have been the success his and Mellyora's was. They were made for each other; outside my dream, Kim and I were not.

Granny had wished me to marry; she wanted me to know that happiness she had shared with her Pedro. Perhaps somewhere in the world there was someone who could love me, whom I could love and with whom I could prove Granny s words that happiness was as willing a guest within four cob walls as in a mansion. He would have to be strong, bold, adventurous. Perhaps more so than Kim who had settled down so happily to the quiet country life.

And Carlyon? Our relationship had changed too. I loved him as deeply as ever but I had learned how precious my life was to me, and Carlyon's to him. We had talked of the future together—Joe with us. Carlyon was going to the University and when he was of an age to decide what career he wanted, he should follow it.

"It is for you to choose, Carlyon," I told him; and as he smiled at me I knew that there was between us that trust and affection which every mother must hope to share with a beloved child.

We are together often and I have great joy in my son.

So I have come out of the darkness. I am no longer walled in by the bricks which I laid with my own hands.

There are sometimes dark days, but they pass and life becomes happier as the weeks go on. Sometimes I fancy Granny is close to me, watching and applauding. I remember the wisdom she taught me; I often repeat some of the things she said to me and I hear them with a new understanding. Perhaps I am learning to live as she wished me to, learning my lessons. I have won back my son. Kim is my friend, Mellyora my sister.

Perhaps one day I shall find a life as satisfying as that Granny enjoyed with Pedro Bee—the good life, the life that came unbidden to Mellyora and was denied to me, the life of love, for loving is giving—all giving, making no demands, living only to give.

That is what I am slowly learning and when I have mastered the lesson, who knows, the good life may come.