One of the servants called to me: “You’d best wait awhile, Miss Jessica. It’s going to pelt down in a moment or two. There’s thunder in the air, too.”

“I’ll be at Eversleigh before it starts,” I replied.

And I set out.

There was a stillness in the air. I found it rather exciting. The calm before the storm! Not a breath of wind to stir the leaves of the trees … just that silence, rather eerie … ominous in fact. It was the kind of silence in which one could expect anything to happen.

I walked on quickly. I was near Grasslands. I glanced at the house … empty now. I stood for a few seconds looking up at the windows. Some houses seem to have a life of their own. Enderby certainly had. And now… Grasslands. Eversleigh? Well, there were always so many people at Eversleigh. Enderby had had an evil reputation before Aunt Sophie had gone there, and a woman whose face was half hidden from sight because of a dire accident could hardly be expected to disperse that. Grasslands? Well, people had said that old Mrs. Trent was a witch; and her grand-daughter had committed suicide and now the other was going to have an illegitimate child. It was stories like that which made houses seem strange … influencing the lives of the people who lived in them.

There was a faint rumbling in the distance and forked lightning shot across the sky. Several large drops of rain fell on my upturned face. The black clouds overhead were about to burst.

I was flimsily clad. I ought to take shelter. The rain would pelt down but it would very likely soon be over. I looked about me. “Never shelter under trees in a thunderstorm,” my mother had often warned me.

I turned in at the gate. I could find adequate shelter under the porch at Grasslands.

I started to run towards the house; the rain was coming down in earnest now. I looked up. Then I stopped short for there at one of the upper windows, I saw … or thought I saw … a face.

Who could be there? Dolly was at Enderby, so were all the servants. There were only three of them and I had seen them all that afternoon.

A dark face … I could not see clearly. It had moved swiftly away as I looked up. Was it a trick of the unusual light? A fancy? But I was sure I saw the curtains move.

I reached the porch and stood there. I was quite wet already. Who could be in the house? I wondered.

One of the servants? But I had seen them all at Enderby just before I left. I pulled on the somewhat rusty chain and the bell rang. I could hear it echoing through the house.

“Is anyone at home?” I called through the keyhole.

There was no answer—only a loud clap of thunder.

I rapped on the door. Nothing happened. It was a heavy oak door and I leaned against it, feeling that something very strange was happening. I am not particularly scared by thunderstorms, especially when other people are there, but to see that lightning streaking across the sky and to wait for the violent claps of thunder which followed and to watch the rain violently hitting the ground when behind me was a house which should have been empty … well, I did feel a strange sort of fear which made my skin creep.

I stood for a while watching the storm as it grew wilder. My impulse was to run, for suddenly I knew that there was someone on the other side of the door.

“Who is there?” I called.

There was no answer. Did I hear heavy breathing? How could I? The storm was too noisy, the door too thick.

What was it I was aware of? A presence?

I would brave the storm. They would scold me. Miss Rennie would say, How foolish to run through it. You should have stayed at Enderby till at least the worst was over …

I shivered. My thin damp dress was clinging to me, but I was not really cold. It was just the thought that there was someone in that house who was aware of me … and that it was very lonely here.

I turned to the door and put my hands against it. To my amazement it opened.

How could that be? It had been shut. I had leaned against it. I had rapped on it and now… it was open.

I stepped into the hall.

It was dark because of the weather. I looked up at the vaulted ceiling which was rather like ours at Eversleigh but smaller.

“Is anyone there?” I called.

There was no answer and I had the feeling that I was being watched.

I advanced cautiously, crossing the hall to the staircase. I heard a movement and hastily turned round. There was no one in the hall. The door swung shut with a bang. I ran over to it. Someone was in the house and I had to get out quickly. I had to run home as fast as I could, never mind the storm.

A figure appeared at the top of the stairs. I stared.

“Are you alone?” said a voice.

“It’s … it’s …” I stammered.

“That is right,” he said. “You remember me.”

“Romany Jake,” I murmured.

“And the lady Jessica.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ll tell you. But first are you alone … Is anyone with you? Anyone coming after you?”

I shook my head. I was no longer afraid. Waves of relief were sweeping over me. I could not feel afraid of Romany Jake—only a tremendous excitement.

He came down the stairs stealthily.

“It was you who were behind the door. You were at the window … You opened the door so that I would come in. What are you doing here?”

“Hiding.”

“Hiding? From whom are you hiding?”

“The law.”

“What have you done?”

“Killed a man.”

I stared at him in horror.

“You will understand when I tell you. You will not betray me, I know.”

“Why did you come here?”

“I thought Dolly would help me. There was no one in the house so I got in through an open window on the first floor. I was hiding until she came.”

“She is staying at Enderby.”

“Where are the servants?”

“They are there, too. They only come now and then to see that the place is all right.”

“What does it mean?”

“Aunt Sophie is looking after her until the baby comes.”

“The baby?”

“Your baby,” I said, watching him closely.

He stared at me incredulously. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Dolly is going to have your baby. She wants it very much and so do Aunt Sophie and Jeanne, and my mother says it is not such a bad thing.”

He was silent, running his fingers through his thick dark hair. Then he murmured: “Dolly!”

I said: “You say you have killed someone.”

“I want you to understand. But first… Dolly? Is she all right?”

“She is with my Aunt Sophie.”

“And she told you that?”

“That it was your baby, yes.”

“Oh … my God,” he said quietly. “What a mess.”

“She wants it. She’s happy about it. She’ll be all right. They’ll look after her and the baby, and my mother says she has never been so happy in her life. Tell me what you have done.”

A loud clap of thunder seemed to shake the house.

“No one will come here in this storm,” he said. “Sit down here and let us talk.”

I sat beside him on the stairs.

“You must decide whether you will go straight back to your father and tell him I am hiding here … or whether you will say nothing and help me.”

“I want to hear all about it. I don’t think I would tell my father. I think I should want to help you.”

He laughed suddenly and he was like the merry man I had known before he went away. I was happy to sit close to him.

He said: “First Dolly. It happened you know, suddenly … These things sometimes do. You won’t understand.”

“I think I do.”

He took my chin in his hands and looked into my face. “I believe you are very wise,” he said. “From the moment we met I wished you were a little older … not much … just a little.”

“Why?”

“Then I could have talked to you … You would have understood.”

“I can understand now.”

He smiled and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “I must tell you what happened. We were encamped in a forest near Nottingham. The local squire had a nephew staying with him. I killed the nephew.”

“Why?”

“Because I caught him assaulting one of the gypsy girls. He would have raped her. He thought the gypsy girls were fair game. Leah is fourteen. I know her father. He adores his daughter. He is a good man. You may be surprised but morals are very strict among the gypsies. Leah is a beautiful girl. The squire’s nephew had marked her out no doubt and he just lay in wait to catch her alone. What he did not know was that I was not far off. I heard Leah scream. I hurried to her. He had torn her blouse off her shoulders and had flung her to the ground. I just went for him. I caught him and we rolled over and over on the grass. I was mad with rage against him and all of those people who call themselves nobility and think that gives them a right to take any girl they fancy providing she is not one of their own class. When I had finished with him nothing could have saved him. I took Leah back to the camp. Her father wanted us to move on and we all saw that that was the best thing possible. But we were too late. The law caught up with us. I was arrested on a charge of murder.”

“But it was not an ordinary murder. You did it to save Leah. They would have to take that into consideration.”

“Do you think they would? The squire is a man of great influence in the neighbourhood. It was his nephew who was killed.”

“But it is against the law to commit rape.”

“Does that apply to squires and gypsy girls?”

“To all, surely,” I said. “The real criminal is that squire’s nephew.”

“Do you think you could get a court to believe that?”