The fact that there was now no going back added to my confidence. I had to carry on and I was going to. No one should ever know the difference. From now on I was Susannah Mateland, heiress to a castle and a fortune.

This wild adventure had done something for me. It was so preposterous, so fraught with danger, and there was so much to learn that I had no time to brood on my misery. I could even smile to think of Susannah, who had always enjoyed getting the better of me, now gone, leaving me to enjoy what was hers.

There was a certain amount of social life on the ship. The captain took a great deal of notice of me. He knew that I had been going out to visit relations on Vulcan Island and was full of commiseration. But he congratulated me on my fortuitous escape.

"If it had happened a week or so later I should have been there," I said. "I was going out for a last visit before leaving for England."

"A very happy escape, Miss Mateland."

I looked sadly out to the sea. There were moments when I

thought it was far from happy and I still wished that I had been there with them.

He patted my hand. "You must not grieve, Miss Mateland, but it is a tragedy that the island has been ruined."

He sensed that the subject was painful and did not refer to it again. But he was particularly kind to me and I told him that I was going home to claim my inheritance.

"Mateland Castle has come to me on the death of my cousin," I said.

"Ah, you have much to go back to. Is this castle known to you, Miss Mateland?"

"Oh yes ... yes. ... It is my home."

He nodded. "You'll feel better when you get home."

I went on to talk about the castle. I glowed with pride in it. I was almost aware of Susannah within me urging me on, applauding me. And I thought: This is the sort of thing Susannah would do. I am becoming Susannah.

That was the easy part.

It was April when we docked in Southampton. I took the train to Mateland. It was like retracing that long-ago journey when I sat holding Anabel's hand tightly, my whole being thrilled by the granting of my three wishes.

I remembered the comfort I had derived from Anabel and the lovely new feeling of security. I was far from feeling that now.

In fact with every passing moment I was growing more and more apprehensive.

Mateland Station. How heartbreakingly familiar! I alighted from the train and a man in a peaked cap came towards me.

"Why, Miss Susannah!" he cried. "Welcome home. They're expecting you. 'Tis good to see you. Terrible tragedy, were it not ... Mr. Esmond going like that?"

"Yes," I said. "Terrible ... terrible... ."

"'Tweren't long afore he died I saw him. He came back home. He'd been away. I can see him now getting out of this train, smiling ... in that quiet way of his. 'Back again, Joe,' he says. "You won't catch me staying long away from Mateland.' Not like you, Miss Susannah."

"No, Joe, not like me."

"Well, you've changed a bit."

My heart leaped in sudden fear. "Oh ... not for the worse, I hope."

"No ... no. Not that, Miss Susannah. Mrs. Tomkin will be glad you're back. She said to me only the other day: 'It's time Miss Susannah was back, Joe. That'll make a change up at the castle.'"

"Remember me to Mrs. Tomkin, Joe."

"That I will, miss. Can't wait to get home to tell her. Is the castle sending for you?"

"I wasn't sure of the time... ."

"I'll get the fly to take you down. How's that?"

I said it was a good idea.

As I was seated in the fly jogging along those lanes I told myself that this was going to be my first test. I had to keep my ears and eyes open all the time. I must not miss the smallest detail. I had to learn all the time. Even that brief encounter had given me the name of the stationmaster and the fact that he had a wife, and that Esmond had a quiet way with him.

It was scarifying, horrifying and at the same time tremendously exhilarating.

Then, suddenly, there it was ahead of me in all its glory. I was filled with emotion as I gazed at those lofty curtain walls and the strong drum towers at the four angles, at the battlemented gatehouse, the gray flinty walls, formidable, impregnable, and the narrow slits of windows.

I felt a great wave of possessive love for the place. Mateland. Mine.

The fly took us through the portcullis into a courtyard. There we stopped and two grooms ran out to help me alight. I was not sure whether I should know them or not. The elder of the two said: "Miss Susannah ..."

"Yes," I answered. "I'm here."

"This is good news, Miss Susannah."

"Thank you," I said.

"It seems so long since you went away, miss, and so much has happened since then. This is Thomas, miss, the new stableboy. He's been with us a month or more."

"Good day, Thomas."

Thomas touched his forelock and murmured something.

"Well, Miss Susannah. I'll have your baggage taken up to your room. And you'll want to go at once to Mrs. Mateland. She's been all impatience for you to come."

"Yes," I said. "Yes."

I walked into the castle. I recognized the hall from Anabel's and Susannah's descriptions as the main hall. I looked up at the magnificent timbered roof, at the stone walls on which some tapestry hung side by side with spears and lances. I knew that high in the wall there was what was called a "peep." It was an aperture scarcely visible from below to those who did not know exactly where it was. Behind it would be a little alcove where the ladies of the house used to look down on the revelries in the hall when they were considered too young to join in or the company was too ribald for them. I knew that it was now used to see what visitors had come and if one did not want to receive them one hurried out of reach.

I had a horrible feeling that I was being watched now, and quite suddenly as I stood there in the hall I was terrified. I had walked into this too glibly. I had not thought of where it could lead me. I was a fraud. I was a cheat. I was taking possession of this magnificent place when I had no legal right to.

It was useless now to tell myself that I had a moral right, which I had been doing since I started on this mad adventure.

I had come here to take the castle. It was as though I had been put under a spell. Now I felt that hundreds of eyes watched me, lured me on, mocked me, urged me to come and see what I could do to take the castle.

I was trapped at this first moment. Here I stood in the center of the main hall and I did not know which way to go. Susannah would have gone straight to her room or Emerald's. Susannah would have known.

There was a staircase at the end of the hall. I knew that it led up to the picture gallery. I had heard both Anabel and Susannah mention it many times. I started up it and was relieved to see a woman standing on the landing.

She was middle-aged, rather self-righteous-looking, with brown hair pulled tightly back from her forehead and rather penetrating light brown eyes.

"Miss Susannah," she said. "Well, my word, and it's about time too."

"Hello," I said cautiously.

"Let's have a look at you. H'm. You've changed. Foreign parts have done you good. Got a bit scraggy though. I suppose it's all this upset."

"Yes, I suppose so."

Who is she? I wondered. Some sort of servant, but a privileged one. A horrible thought struck me. She might be one of those nannies who had been with the child from birth. If so, she would soon find me out.

"It was shocking ... Mr. Esmond ... so sudden, too. You going to Mrs. Mateland or your room first?"

"I think I'd better see her first."

"I'll go up with you and warn her you're here, shall I?"

I nodded with relief. "How are her eyes?" I asked.

"They've got much worse. It's cataract over them both. She can see a little ... but of course it's going to get worse."

"I am sorry."

She looked at me sharply. "Well, you know she was never one to make light of her misfortunes ... and with Mr. Esmond going ..."

"Of course," I said.

She had started up the stairs and I gratefully walked beside her.

"I'll warn her you're here before you go bursting in," she said.

We went along the gallery. I felt I knew it well. There were all my ancestors. I would study them in detail at my leisure.

Up the staircase we went. At the top of it the woman paused. She turned and looked at me and my heart felt as though it would burst out of my body.

She said: "Did you see your father?"

I nodded.

"And Miss ... Anabel? ..." There was a slight tremor in her voice as she said that and then I knew, for from the first she had seemed vaguely familiar. She was the one who had brought the food when we went on the picnic and who had driven the dogcart for us, the one who, Anabel had told me, always said what she meant, who couldn't tell a lie and rarely said anything good about anything. I struggled a few moments to bring out her name from the recesses of my memory. Then I thought, Janet! It must be Janet, but I was not going to fall into the trap of using her name until I was sure.

"Yes," I said, "I saw them both."

"Were they ..."

I said fervently: "They were happy together. My father was doing wonderful work on the island."

"We've only just got the news about the explosion or whatever it was."

"It was a volcanic eruption."

"Whatever it was, it killed them both. Miss Anabel ... she was a wayward one ... but she had a sweet nature... .*