“No,” I said, but so quietly that he did not hear me.

There was nothing we could do but lie still waiting. I had never known there could be heat like this. I was gasping for my breath.

“It’s all right, Nora.” I heard a voice—or at least I believed I did.

“Nora, my love, we’ll be all right. Lynx would never forgive us if we died.”

It’s true, I thought. We have to live . for Lynx.

I can’t describe the ever-increasing heat. I believe I must have been only half-conscious because there were times during that fearful period when I was not sure where I was. I lay perfectly still, having no strength to move, for in that terrific heat all energy had left me.

There was only one thing to do: to lie and wait either for death to come or for life to deliver us.

But all through this terrifying experience I was aware of Stirling close to me; and I knew that he loved me. I was certain that if only I could escape from death the future of which I had dreamed would be mine.

I think I was in a sort of trance, dreaming of a future in which we were all there—the three of us, because I had learned now, if I had not known it before, that Lynx must always have a place in my life—on the lawns of a beautiful old house. My children—mine and Stirling’s—were there with their grandfather: a new Lynx, a man who had come to terms with life, who had thrown aside a dream of revenge for one of contentment.

“Nora! Nora!” Stirling’s face was close to mine. There was a little light in the cave. The first thing I noticed was the smoke. I started to cough.

“Oh God, Nora, I thought you were dead.”

“What’s happened?” I asked.

“The wind’s changed. There’s a light drizzle falling. The fires will be damped down and they’ll stop spreading. We’re going to get out of here.” He pulled me to my feet and I staggered, falling against him.

He laughed with relief because I was alive, I knew; he held me against him briefly but with an inexpressible tenderness.

“We’re going to get out of here,” he repeated.

My limbs were stiff; I could scarcely move. The temperature in the cave must have been about a hundred and forty degrees, although it was much cooler than it had been.

“You follow me,” he said; and I watched him crawl through the hole.

Soon he had dragged me out to stand beside him. It was like walking into an oven; then I held up my face and let the light drizzle fall on it.

A fearful sight met our eyes. The remains of trees were black and smouldering. There was a quietness everywhere and it occurred to me that one subconsciously heard the birds and insects of the bush without being aware of them. Several trees were still burning.

I turned to Stirling who was scarcely recognizable. His face was black; so were his clothes. I knew I presented a similar spectacle.

He put his arms about me and held me close to him. We just stood there, too emotional to speak.

Then I said: “We’re alive, Stirling. We have a future after all.”

He released me and took my hands, looking searchingly into my face. I saw the joy rather than the grime of smoke and dirt, and for a few seconds I was happy.

He said: “I wonder what’s been happening at home.” A terrible fear had taken possession of us both, for although we had just been assuring ourselves that we had a future, neither of us could be happy if it did not contain one other.

“We must get back quickly,” I said.

“We must find out.”

The countryside was devastated and it was difficult to know which scarred and mutilated road to take. I should have been lost without Stirling. He had known this country all his life but even he was bewildered. We were both driven by an urgent desire to know what had happened at Little Whiteladies. Stirling loved me; I was sure of that. I believed that e happy again?

I don’t know how we made that journey. We were weak from shock; we must have been at least six hours in the cave. Our limbs were cramped, our throats parched; we struggled on and there was only one thought in our minds:

Night fell and Stirling said we must rest awhile; we lay down but our minds could not rest.

“How far?” I whispered.

“It can’t be more than six or seven miles.”

“Stirling, why don’t we go?”

“We must rest for a while.”

“I’d rather go.”

“So would I, but you’d collapse before we got there.”

“Oh Stirling,” I cried.

“You do take care of me.”

“Always, Nora,” he answered.

“For ever,” I murmured; but even then I was thinking of Lynx.

I slept at last and felt it was a measure of Stirling’s love for me that he let me sleep. I was apologetic when I awoke. It seemed so wrong to sleep when we did not know what had happened to Lynx.

We trudged on. We did not speak of Lynx but each knew that the other thought of him exclusively, and that our failure to mention him was deliberate.

Never shall I forget the last hour of that walk. and finally discovering the land untouched by fire. There stood the house, impregnable, as though defying destruction to come near.

Stirling gave a shout when we saw it. He started to run pulling me with him.

“Home!” he cried.

“We’re home.”

Adelaide came running out of the house. She was crying with relief.

She took us into her arms and would not let us go. I noticed, as one does on such occasions, how the smoke and grime blackened her gown.

“The master must be told!” she cried.

“Jenny! Mary! They are here.

They are home. “

We stumbled into the house.

“He … is safe,” said Stirling.

“But nearly demented,” replied Adelaide.

“He has been searching for you. He has called in everyone.”

“Look after Nora,” said Stirling.

“He’s safe?” I murmured.

“He’s truly safe?”

They had put me to bed by the time he came. Only when I was between the cool sheets did I realize how exhausted I was. I lay luxuriating in my bed, having drunk the broth which Adelaide had brought.

“Not too much at first,” she had said. And I lay there thinking of the heat and terror of the dark cave, and Stirling’s saying that he would look after me for ever. Lynx was safe. There would be the three of us.

I knew that he was in the house. One sensed his presence. I knew too that he would come to me first . even before he went to Stirling.

Oh no, surely not. Stirling was his beloved son. I was only the adopted daughter.

He was at the door, his eyes shining with the greatest joy I ever saw in any eyes. Why was everything he did so much more intense than what others did?

“Nora,” he said.

“My Nora.”

Then he came to the bedside and held me in his arms. He put his face dose to mine.

“My girl Nora,” he kept saying. I said: “I’m back. Lynx.

Dear, dearest Lynx, we’re back together. “

For a few moments he did not speak. He just held me.

Then he said: “I thought I’d lost you. I was mad with fury. But you’re back. My girl Nora.”

“I was terrified of what might be happening to you.”

He laughed loud and confident. As if anything could happen to him!

“All the time,” I told him, ‘we thought of you, we talked to you. “

He laughed again and all he said was: “My girl Nora!”

Later he went to see Stirling.

Six

We recovered quickly from the shock of our experience. I think the fact that we came back to the house and found it untouched and the family safe made us so happy that we threw off the ill effects of our terrifying adventure with the greatest possible speed.

The damage had been tremendous. The property had suffered most; many sheep had been lost and two of the shepherds had died in their cottages. The mine had escaped.

Adelaide insisted that I stay in bed for two days. I was cosseted and fed with special invalid’s food which she said was necessary. Stirling refused to be treated like an invalid; but I enjoyed it.

Jessica came to see me. She sat by my bed looking intently at me.

“I’ve never seen him so affected as he was,” she said.

“He sent parties out looking for you, risking their lives.”

I smiled happily. I just wanted to lie and think about the future.

When I was up he asked me to come to his library after dinner.

“A game of chess,” I said, remembering that during those hours of semi-consciousness in the cave I had imagined myself in his study, the chessmen between us.

He did not join us for dinner and when I went up he was waiting for me. He looked excited and yet restrained; and different from when I had seen him last.

“You are a little pale, Nora,” he said.

“But you’ll recover in a few days’ time. You’re young and healthy and resilient.”

He poured out two glasses of port wine and brought them over to me. I noticed the eyes of the lynx on his finger glitter as he handed me one.

“To us, Nora. Your safe delivery to me. What should I have done if you had not come back?”

“We have Stirling to thank. Stirling is wonderful.”

“Stirling is wonderful,” he repeated.

I started to talk about the cave, although he had heard it all before.

I had suddenly become nervous and felt the need to go on talking.

“My dear,” he said, ‘you are back, and you have made me the happiest of men when I should have been the most wretched. “

My hands had started to tremble which, I told myself, was due to the recent shock. But it was not that. A sudden idea had come to me but I would not accept it.