Виктория Холт - Lord of the Far Island

I said nothing about the letter, not even to Esmeralda, until by good luck I found an opportunity of speaking to Cousin William Loring. I showed him the letter and asked what he knew about it.

"Why, yes," he said, "your mother did marry and go off to this island. Something went wrong with the marriage and she ran away, taking you with her. Your father made no provision for her, which is not surprising, since she left him. When she ran away she forfeited everything—for herself and for you—apparently."

"Who is this Jago Kellaway?"

"He must be some sort of relation." He looked at me quizzically and I saw the compassion in his eyes. "Unfortunately I can tell you very little, Ellen, but I do remember that was the name of the island where your father lived. And if he is now dead and these people are asking you to visit them, perhaps they will make amends for his not bothering with you all these years." He laid a hand on my arm. "It is not my wish that you should take this post, Ellen. As far as I am concerned, you are welcome... ."

"I know. Thank you, Cousin William." I felt I wanted to stop his saying something disloyal about his wife which he might regret later. "What I wanted to be sure about," I went on, "is that this is truly my father's family. And you think I ought to go and see them?".

He nodded and I could see that he thought it might be a fortunate way out of my present difficulties.

That afternoon Mrs. Oman Lemming called. From my window I saw her arrive. I hated the angle at which she wore her overflowered hat as much as I hated the arrogant manner in which she ignored her footman as he handed her out of her carriage.

Soon I should be sent for and expected to go down and stand before them, eyes downcast, the Poor Relation to whom they were being so generous: Cousin Agatha, who had resented me all these years I had spent under her roof, and Mrs. Oman Lemming, who was so graciously forgetting the part they had decided I must have played in the recent tragedy and was giving me the unique opportunity to be bullied and humiliated under her roof!

And so I sat down without further delay and wrote to Jago Kellaway, telling him that I should be delighted to come to the Far Island and must indeed join members of my family and bridge the gap of years.

I had completed the letter when the summons came and the envelope lay sealed in front of me.

It was Bessie, knocking faintly as though she were sorry to have to bring such an order.

"Miss Ellen, the mistress wants you in her sitting room. That Mrs. Oman Lemming's there."

Defiantly I went down, my old spirits briefly reviving. I was not going to Mrs. Oman Lemming to be humiliated and treated with disdain. I was going to visit my relations in the Far Island off the coast of Cornwall.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at Polcrag, for after leaving the main-line train I had had to make the six- or seven-mile journey on the small local one. There was a fly waiting at the station and I asked the driver to take me and my baggage to the Polcrag Inn. Jago Kellaway had suggested this procedure when he had written to say he was delighted that I was accepting his invitation.

"For," he wrote, "the Island is three miles out to sea, on whose pleasure I am afraid we have to wait. It may well be, my dear, that the boats can't come in when you arrive, in which case it is better for you to be at the Polcrag Inn, the landlord of which I know well, and I shall tell them to take especial care of you there."

My possessions—all I owned—filled three moderate-sized bags, and most of this was clothes which had been made for my trousseau so, ironically enough, now that I was leaving London society, I was better equipped for it than I had ever been in my life.

Esmeralda had bidden me a tearful farewell and Cousin Agatha had made little attempt to hide her relief in being rid of me, while Cousin William had slipped a purse of sovereigns into my hand with a murmur: "I insist on your taking it, Ellen. You may need it."

As we clopped along from the station to the inn, I took stock of the little town which clustered below and yet at the same time seemed to climb the surrounding cliffs. Some of the houses were approached by steep slopes, others by steps cut out of the cliffside. They were made of gray Cornish stone and many of them had glassed-in porches undoubtedly for the dual purpose of catching the sun and keeping out the wind, which I imagined would blow in from the sea. The Polcrag Inn, a building of three stories with an archway at the side, stood in the main street, and we drove under this arch to the stables. Just as I was about to alight a man who wore a leather apron about his waist, and whom I guessed rightly to be the host, came into the yard.

"You'm Miss Kellaway," he said, "if I be not mistook."

I said that I was indeed Miss Kellaway.

" 'Tis a fine room I have for 'ee. I've been warned of your coming."

"I thought I should cross to the Island today," I said.

"Lord love you, no, Miss. The sea be proper treacherous today. Did you see the white horses out there, far out 'tis true but when you see them you know 'tis no time to take out the boat for the Island."

"So then I must stay the night here?"

" 'Tis the only thing, Miss Kellaway, and we'm prepared. Orders is you'm to be well looked after till the boat do come for 'ee."

Disappointed as I was not to reach the Island that day, I was comforted by the fact that my new-found kinsman had shown such concern for my well-being.

"Jim here will take your bags up and maybe tomorrow they wicked old white horses will go to stable."

I followed him across the courtyard to a door through which he led me. We were in a hall dominated by an oak chest on which stood a large pewter plate.

"Where be to, me dear," called the innkeeper, and a woman came into the hall.

"This be Miss Kellaway," said the innkeeper.

The woman's eyes opened wide as she looked at me wonderingly. "Be it so then?" she said, and dropped a curtsy. "I'd best be taking her to her room," she went on.

"I'd like to wash, please," I told her, "and change my blouse."

"So 'ee shall," said the innkeeper's wife. "If you will follow me, Miss Kellaway."

The innkeeper watched me as I ascended the stairs.

"This be the room, Miss Kellaway," said his wife, throwing open a door. " Tis the best in the inn. 'Twas to be kept for 'ee case you should have to stay a while. I'll have hot water sent up to 'ee."

"Thank you."

"Oh, 'tis a pleasure, Miss Kellaway. 'Twouldn't do to give you aught but the best. We'll have your bags sent up in a trice."

She hesitated. She had scarcely taken her eyes from me since she had seen me. I looked at her inquiringly, for I had the impression that she wanted to tell me something.

She did. After a second or so's hesitation she burst out: "I knew your mother. You'm like her."

"You knew my mother! How interesting."

She nodded. "I were maid to her before I married Tom Pengelly. I were with her... until she left."

"I'm so glad to meet someone who knew her. I was five when she died and one doesn't remember very much at that age."

She nodded. "Well, so you'm here. Little Miss Ellen! My word, you've changed."

I smiled. "I suppose I have since you last saw me. I could only have been about three years old then."

"Time passes," she mused. "It seems only yesterday, though much have happened since, I reckon. My boy's over there." She nodded towards the window. "He works for Mr. Jago. You look out for Augustus—though he be known as Slack."

"I will," I promised.

"I were married soon after your mother went off and Pengelly and I had Augustus. There be nothing wrong with him. 'Twere just that he were born too soon. He'm a good boy."

There was a knock on the door and a maid appeared with hot water followed by a boy with my bags.

"There be roast pig cooking in the oven," said Mrs. Pengelly as she went out.

I crossed to the window and looked at a magnificent view of the sea. I strained my eyes for a glimpse of the Island but all I could see were ominous dark clouds which were being scurried across a gray sky by that wind which was whipping up the white horses whose presence was holding me on the mainland.

There was a tap on the door and a girl with towels entered.

"Can you ever see the Far Island from here?" I asked her.

"If it be clear enough, Miss."

As I washed and changed my blouse I was becoming more and more excited, for now I should learn something about my parents. All I knew was that they had been unhappy together because my mother had left my father. I had often wondered about him and pictured him as a sort of ogre. I believed then that this adventure was going to prove exactly what I needed to take me away from a past in which I could only grieve for Philip's death and suffer a certain remorse because I had not appreciated him enough when he was alive.

I did not unpack very much since I hoped I should be leaving the next day when the white horses had "gone to stable." I wondered whether Jago Kellaway would come to meet me and what he would be like. There had been a very warm welcome in his letter and I was growing very eager to meet him.

As I descended the stairs the savory smell of roasting pork made me feel hungry for the first time since Philip's death. There were no other guests in the dining room and, seeing that I had noticed this, Mrs. Pengelly explained that it was early yet. "We thought you'd be ready for it after traveling," she added.