MB

THE SILVER SORCERESS Margaret Chapman

Ellesdora was looking forward to her new job in a remote, peaceful part of Northumberland - until she arrived there! At first sight, Havenfield was indeed a haven where, so it seemed, civilisation had passed by, so when Ellesdora found out the reality, she was shocked out of her usual complacency. She had to wake up to the strange forces about her, to face the incredible fact that the villagers thought she was the reincarnation of the local witch and to admit that she had fallen in love with Nicholas Turk. And that was just another of the troubles brewing, for one of the local girls, Rebecca Willis, was in love with him too - and Rebecca was in a position to stir up a lot of trouble for Ellesdora. . .

CHAPTER ONE ELLESDORA LORRAINE drove slowly along the narrow moorland road which skirted the forest. It was a still night in September and the sun ahead emptied its last fiery shower upon the dark massing clouds. Ellesdora glanced apprehensively through the tattered fringe of birch and pine to her right to where a vast stretch of torn and mutilated land lay like some primeval forest. The timber had been harvested; mighty stacks of it lay naked, slain by some superhuman axe, while far away in the distance the remaining trees rose in what looked like a tidal wave of protest. There was no sound, the birds had flown, night was coming, and casting her gaze to the road again, Ellesdora shivered and tried hard to appreciate the yellow tansy flowers and the maiden fern which grew along the grass verges. But she could not smile; the land was unfamiliar, she was far from home and just a little scared. Ellesdora was not a smiling kind of girl at any time. She was a conscientious young nurse and inclined to be a little serious. Nor was she pretty, but her thoughts had a habit of illuminating her craggy little face and her eyes, round, enormous and ambercoloured, made any observer forget about the rest of her features. She had a good figure too—slim, fairly tall and with a full bust and narrow waist, she was not so ordinary as she imagined herself to be. Her skin was just a little sallow, her hair was dark and she wore it brushed straight and smooth to her shoulders. Today she wore a woollen dress with an ocelot pattern, a pair of bright patent shoes with eye-catching buckles and a bright fuchsia lipstick. She had taken the post of district nurse in a small village in the foothills to the Cheviot Hills in Northumberland. "But you'll die of boredom out there," the nurses back at hospital had told her. "Nothing ever happens there."

On the crest of the next rise in the road Ellesdora stopped the car. Havenfield, she thought anxiously, should have 'been in sight by this time. She reached for the map and scanned it quickly. According to the map she was there. She looked up, bit her lip, frowned. But where? There wasn't a stone in sight, never mind a house or village. With a sigh of exasperation she dropped the map on to the empty seat and started the engine up again. She travelled slowly for a while and then, growing anxious, picked up speed. It was after seven and soon it would be dark. The forest came to an abrupt end and now Ellesdora caught her breath as the whole view to the north cleared. She stopped the car again and sat forward staring in wonder below and beyond as the land stretched away mile after mile over lonely, wild moorland country. Still no bird sang, no cloud stirred, and at once Ellesdora's throat was full, so conscious was she suddenly of the stillness and the enormity of eternity. She sat back. So this was Northumberland! A land of wide open spaces, unending folds and ridges of bent grass and heather ran away like a great sea towards the bluff of dark unhospitablelooking hills behind which the great apricot sun had now set. But where was Havenfield? "There's nothing but peat and heather and sheep," her friend who had gone off to the London Clinic had told her. "You must be mad, Ellesdora." Ellesdora's heart began to beat fast, her breath came quickly. Perhaps her friend had been right. The wildness of the place, the vastness, was intimidating. Yet the solitude intrigued her. She 'had been brought up in a large family An a long street; always there had been noise. Now she was both drawn and repelled at the same

time. Then an eerie little scraping noise made her flinch and spring round, her eyes opening wide in fright. This time she did blanch and stiffen as she raised her eyes to a small platform of turf upon which stood a wooden gibbet, from the crossbar of which hung a head ! But a head carved out of wood and not a real one and, she realized at once, a mere reminder to the passer-by of what it had been like there in former and more harsh days. For a few moments she sat stiff with terror, trying hard to curb her unruly imagination. But it was impossible; she saw it all... the body swaying in the wind with only the sheep to gaze at it. This Northumberland, she thought, had indeed been a no- man'sland, notoriously lawless, harassed and plundered by both Scottish and English raiders. But that was a long time ago. The gibbet was a mere showpiece now. She tried to laugh. Sunday picnickers would sit beneath it quite unperturbed. But the whole valley did have a godforsaken look. Quickly, Ellesdora wound up the window as though trying to shut it out, then started the car again and crept forward, driving slowly downhill all the way. At last the village came into view and Ellesdora sighed with relief. She was there! Havenfield ! "You'll hate it," her London Clinic friend had insisted. "They don't look at you down there, they look through you. The wind does the same. It never goes round you, just straight through. You'll see." Ellesdora stared down at the small grey settlement of Havenfield trying hard to stop thinking about all the things Stella, her friend, had told her about Northumberland. But the place did have a brooding look and the hills did look hungry and menacing. The cottages huddled close as though expecting trouble and the pele tower rose above them like some grim headstone. But she'd done it

now, she told herself bracingly, she'd taken the post, she had to go ... even if the place looked cut off from civilization, remote, silent and forgotten. For a moment an old ruin of a farmhouse on the fellside took her attention and she shuddered and her small face began to pucker with anxiety. How could, she ever work and be happy in such a place? Perhaps she had made a mistake; perhaps she had been impulsive. Then she saw the signpost and the rutted road that wriggled away across the fell to the west and she stopped the car and squinted up at the post. 'Ravenscleugh,' she read, and grew a little excited. She turned the car and nosed it warily up the track. Until the Council fixed up a house for her she was to board with a Mrs. Willis of Ravenscleugh Farm. She had arrived. There was a gate to open. She got out of the car and stood still for a moment. The still moorland air was sweet with the scent of heather and above her a great white bird with a steady wing-beat made its way to the forest. Ellesdora watched it go with a lifting of her heart, then she hurried towards the gate. It was old and rusty and Ellesdora battled with the bolt for a while, mumbling to herself as she did so. But it was impossible; the bolt caught her skin and she cried out and sucked her wrist and almost dropped with shock when a voice said, "Good evening. Having trouble?" Ellesdora swung round to stare at the stranger who, like some wonderful deity, seemed to have appeared from nowhere. He was tall, broad-shouldered and strong-looking and his hair was golden. Ellesdora could only gasp in embarrassment as he moved forward with wide easy strides and a charming smile. But when he came close she saw that his green eyes also held a polite indifference, something too that made her change her mind about giving him her life history. She sucked her wrist and watched him. He wasn't a farmer, she could see that by the cut of his fine tweed suit and his

silk necktie. But he had strong capable-looking hands all the same and a strong face—almost Peruvian in features, Ellesdora thought, and she wondered if he was an American touring England. No, his voice had been English enough, attractive, well modulated. Then the gate was open and for a moment the stranger stood leaning over it, gazing out into the grey dusk as though he had completely forgotten that anyone else was there. "If you don't mind," Ellesdora called with a hint of impatience, "I'd like to drive on." She paused and added, "Can I give you a lift?" Still watching the night sky, the stranger paid no heed to Ellesdora and with a gesture of impatience and flushed cheeks she got into her car and blew the horn. He swung round. "Good lord, sorry." He swung the gate open for her and gave a polite little nod as she drove by. "Good-night," he called after her. "Look after that wrist!" Ellesdora put the brake on for a moment, peered round, then her cheeks flamed. The stranger had already turned and was striding off without even a backward glance. Well, she thought, tightlipped, whoever he was I made no impact there. The house loomed up and Ellesdora immediately forgot the encounter and her face grew bleak. Ravenscleugh was a starklooking place with its steep grey walls and blind-looking windows. It looked colourless, soulless, within its crumbling grey stone wall. And above the house a tortured-looking hawthorn hedge made its way stoopingly up the fell towards the sky ... as though determined to get away. Or so it seemed to Ellesdora, whose face had turned pale again. She did not like the place at all. She caught sight of a small blurred face at one of the upstairs windows and with a fresh

pang of alarm began to drive very slowly. She knew that someone was watching her approach, but she did not look up again. The yard at the back of the farmhouse was open and Ellesdora drove carefully over the flagstones. The back door was open and almost immediately an oldish- looking man came out. Ellesdora was ready with a smile, but the man had turned into the house again and to her embarrassment she heard him call, roughly, "Hi, Ellen, she's here. It's the nurse !" Ellesdora waited until he came out again, when she saw that the man was about sixty and very unpleasant- looking with his gnarled ruddy face, lumpy features and untidy grey hair. But he nodded to her and she got out of the car and held out her hand as he approached. "I'm Nurse Lorraine," she told him curtly, because she had already recognized the bully in the man. "You're expecting me, aren't you?" "The wife is," Jasper Willis returned dourly, his eyes squinting inquisitively at Ellesdora's cases. "She's got a bite ready for you." "Will you take my cases?" Ellesdora thrust them at the farmer before he could refuse. "There's only two. I'll carry the bag." "I'll set them down at the door," Jasper Willis volunteered ungraciously. "Percy can take them up for you if you're a bit weakish like." He glanced over his shoulder. "I've got the tups to feeds." Gravely Ellesdora followed the farmer into the house. "Wipe your feet," he told her, "or she'll go mad." He turned back to grin wickedly at Ellesdora, then to her surprise he asked, "Did you

see that fancy chap as you came up?" and before Ellesdora could answer, "She's been off with him again .. . but I've warned her, a chap like that isn't interested in the likes of her. I've told her mother too." Ellesdora caught her breath. The farmer was obviously talking about the stranger she had met by the gate... and his daughter. Amused for a moment, she found herself smiling, but only for a moment, for suddenly she was very keen to see Mr. Willis's daughter, suddenly curious to know what kind of a girl made a man like that take notice. "This way, Nurse." The farmer's voice was still surly as they' trundled along a dimly lit passage towards the kitchen. "Ellen's been expecting you for the last hour or so. I expect you're ready for your supper." Feeling rather nervous, Ellesdora kept close on his heels. He swung open a door and they were looking into a very much livedin kitchen full of very old furniture. But there were bright tiles on the floor and colourful curtains at the windows, and by the large stove stood a tall, angular straight-backed woman with a thin face, aquiline profile and a coil of yellow-grey hair sitting on the top of her head like a serpent. As they entered the room the woman turned to face them and Ellesdora flinched at the coldness in the woman's large dark eyes. "You'd best feed her up," Jasper Willis said to his wife after a quick assessment of Ellesdora. "You never know when you might be needing her, with all those pains you've got." He laughed gruffly at his own humour and backed out. "Shut the door after you!" the woman by the stove shouted, and Ellesdora winced as the door clashed shut.

"Men!" the woman sighed. "I suppose he's been telling you I've got the pains." Her mouth twisted unhappily. "And who wouldn't in such a place?" "Rheumatism?" Ellesdora enquired in a small voice. The woman nodded and forced a smile in Ellesdora's direction. "Sit down," she said. "You'll be wanting your supper. We've been watching for you since four o'clock." Sitting down on one of the high-backed chairs by the table Ellesdora stared at the floor because she found it painful to look into a face so hardened by frustration, a face so tragic in its unhappiness. Mrs. Willis was married to a bully and she didn't like it; that was evident. "There's ham and eggs and rice pudding," Mrs. Willis told her directly. "And there's tea or coffee. Just say which you want. We have breakfast at seven, dinner at twelve, a cup of tea at four and supper at seven." "I don't suppose I'll be with you very long, Mrs. Willis. They did promise me a house as soon as possible —a modernized cottage, I think. Anyhow, I'll not be much trouble. I'll be out most of the day." "I'm used to trouble," Mrs. Willis returned, her face expressionless, but before she could go on the door opened and a girl of about seventeen came quietly into the room. Ellesdora turned to stare at the girl and knew at once that she was the one who had been watching her from the upstairs window. "Hello," the girl said, walking round the table, her eyes hard on Ellesdora. "I saw you coming up the track. You're the nurse, aren't you?"

"Of course she's the nurse," the girl's mother cut in sharply. "And where have you been all this time, Rebecca? Have you got that room ready yet?" "Of course I have, Ma. Don't fret, I told you I'd do it." She met her mother's hostile eyes. "What are you worrying about now?" she said in a thin voice. Embarrassed, Ellesdora reached for the sugar and hid her consternation behind a large cup of tea. "Have you lived out here all your life, Mrs. Willis?" she heard herself enquire rather inanely. "My folks and his," the woman returned shortly. "We've never moved from Havenfield, nor are we likely to. And our people were here before us." "I'm Rebecca," the girl interrupted her mother. "There's Percy too. He's older than I am. He's twenty- five." "I'm twenty-two," Ellesdora said, trying her utmost to raise a friendly smile. "I thought you'd be that," the country girl returned. "Are you married?" "Good heavens, no!" Ellesdora laughed for the first time. "I'm fancy free." "And if you've got any sense you'll stay that way," Mrs. Willis spoke up. "I've told Rebecca the same.... Not that she's likely to take any notice of her old mother."

Ellesdora said nothing, but her eyes travelled to the girl, Rebecca. There was something just a little furtive and sly about the girl. She reminded her of a hill hare. The girl had long thin limbs, hard and brown and with a soft golden down upon them. Her body, though, was strangely full and mature and her fawn-coloured hair hung in a heavy shawl about her shoulders. Her oval- shaped face was covered with freckles and her chin was small and receding, her lower lip drawn in a little. She had small round blue eyes and a watchful look. "Are you going to have a cup of tea with me, Rebecca?" she asked hastily, as though trying to cover up her thoughts. "Tell me, do you get into town very much? I suppose Newcastle is the nearest large town?" "No, she doesn't," the mother answered again before the girl could speak. "Towns aren't the place for Rebecca. We can hardly keep her clear of trouble out here." Rebecca smiled sneeringly. "That's all my mother can think about," she said, and pulled a face. "Trouble!" "Well, I don't intend to be any trouble," Ellesdora said with a sigh, and picking up her knife and fork again she added, "This is quite delicious, Mrs. Willis. You certainly know what to do with ham and eggs!" Mrs. Willis gave a brief nod and limped off towards the door. "I'll fetch the milk from the dairy while it's still light," she said, and the door closed after her. Almost at once the young girl's face lit up. "Did you see Nicholas?" she asked, her eyes bright and fastened hard upon Ellesdora.

"Nicholas?" Ellesdora frowned and met the girl's gaze. "Oh, you mean the man who opened the gate for me. I suppose he's Nicholas." Breathlessly the girl nodded. "What did he say?" she whispered. "He didn't say anything." Looking up, Ellesdora shrugged her shoulders. "Should he have done?" she asked gravely, but inside she was laughing. The girl was in love! "He must have said something." "He said he'd open the gate, that was all." "Did he look at you?" Ellesdora frowned as she met the girl's eyes now. "I really couldn't say," she told her. She laughed and added, "I shouldn't think so. He looked to me like a man who had something more than girls on his mind." "Oh, I know Nicholas ... he wouldn't give you a second glance." Rebecca's face glowed with some secret knowledge and recent triumph. "But he is gorgeous! You must have seen that." She giggled nervously. "He's got the most wonderful eyes—so green." She closed her own eyes and gave a little sensuous wriggle. "I never could resist green eyes." Her words began to tumble excitedly over each other. "He hasn't been here long, you know. Just two months. I'm the only one he's interested in around here." Her voice grew breathless. "As you said, you can see he's not interested in other girls." The girl was madly in love. Ellesdora glanced up at Rebecca again, with interest. Each tiny freckle on the girl's face seemed illuminated with the fact that she was crazily in love. The fact

seemed to radiate from her whole body, her skin, her eyes. It was almost embarrassing. "Nicholas," the girl went on, "Nicholas," she repeated as though the name on her lips gave her great pleasure, "is painting me. I'm his model. Of course everyone's jealous. He's a wonderful artist, you know. He's a very clever man." In a gesture of something like ecstasy Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment. Then she laughed shrilly and exclaimed in her thin excited voice, "We're more than friends, I'll admit that." With a rush of unexpected irritation, Ellesdora clattered down her cup and asked, "He's not a farmer, is he?" The girl looked aghast, almost disdainfully at Ellesdora. "Of course he's not a farmer," she said sharply. "He's an artist, I've told you. And a lecturer." Her chin rose indignantly. "I couldn't bear a farmer after Nicholas," she said hotly. The sound of Mrs. Willis returning made Rebecca pull a sour face. "Don't take any notice of my mother," she said in an undertone. "She hates men—all men. And she's superstitious!" She giggled into her hands. "She thinks Nicholas has an evil eye on me... and of course she's right, he has. All men have." Again Ellesdora gave Rebecca a curious stare. The girl's strong passions had got the better of her common sense, undoubtedly. No wonder her parents worried about her; their daughter sounded quite irresponsible. And with a rush of distaste, Ellesdora suddenly wished she was far away and that she had not taken the post at Havenfield. Everything, everyone seemed so alien, so awful.

"I was just telling Nurse here that you're a bit suspicious of all men, Mother. You are, aren't you?" Rebecca slanted her eyes at her mother and ran a pointed little tongue impertinently along her upper lip. "Hold your peace, girl. Clear the plates away." Mrs. Willis seemed in no mood for her daughter. She gave Ellesdora a swift glance and Ellesdora stood up quickly, scraping back her chair. "I'll finish my tea when I come down, Mrs. Willis," she said. "It's rather hot." "Just as you like." Mrs. Willis ran her eyes over the table. "But we're generally cleared up by eight. You'll get used to us and fall in." Without a word Ellesdora followed Rebecca out of the room, along the passage to the square hall and up a steep flight of stairs. When they reached the landing Rebecca danced off ahead. "This is your room," she called as she flung open a door. "It's next to mine." She danced on. "That's Percy's room," she went on, pointing to another door. "The bathroom's next to it... and Ma and Pa's room is right at the end." "I'm only interested in my own," Ellesdora said dryly. "I only expect to be here a week or two, so I won't trouble your mother very much." "Oh, you'll be no trouble," Rebecca smiled, and giggled again. "Ma's saving up like the rest of us.... We all want to get away." Ellesdora sat down on the edge of the large bed. "I suppose I can use the drawers?" she said, eyeing a large set of them.

Pulling the top drawer open, Rebecca looked in and answered. "Of course, use them all." Then she swung back and asked, "You haven't met Percy yet, have you?" Peering through the brass rails of the bedstead, Ellesdora did not appear to have heard, Rebecca. She had never seen such large pieces of furniture, and every enormous piece had been given a good lick of white gloss paint. The carpet was faded, but the curtains were new and garishly flowered. "You'll have to watch Percy." The girl's insinuation made Ellesdora look up and frown, Oh, no, she thought, with a rush of dismay and just a hint of humour, surely the son's not going to be troublesome as well as everything else. "You'll bother Percy all right," Rebecca prattled on, confirming Ellesdora's fears. "All girls bother Percy. Ma says it's because he ate birds' eggs when he was six. But that's all in with her superstition. She's a bit cranky. They have terrible rows about this superstition. Pa says she's going to the devil... and she says he's gone." Ellesdora slipped on her red anorak. She did not like Rebecca's conversation. "I'm going out for a breath of air before it's really dark," she said quickly. "If you see your brother, I'd be grateful if he'd bring those heavy cases upstairs for me." Then to her astonishment she saw that the young girl was guarding the doorway. "What's wrong?" she asked sharply. "I'm going out. Let me pass, Rebecca. Don't be silly!"

"Don't go out," Rebecca said breathlessly, her eyes fast on Ellesdora. "Girls don't wander about on these moors at this time of night. It's not right. At least Ma says it isn't." Speechless now, Ellesdora stared at the girl's taut, defiant little face. "Your mother has nothing to do with me," she returned sharply. "Nothing whatever." "If you think you'll see Nicholas out there, said crossly. "He doesn't come up this sometimes has a drink at the Black Raven, Her eyes met Ellesdora's and held them interested in getting to know people."

you won't," Rebecca way at nights. He but he doesn't mix." defiantly. "He's not

Ellesdora bit her lip and now her eyes grew troubled. The poor young girl was full of fears. It was almost pathetic. Being in love with this man had surely deprived her of her wits, her manners ... her pride. She was consumed with fear and jealousy. Staring at her, Ellesdora wondered just what kind of a man could have caused such havoc in so young a girl. She said quietly, "Believe me, Rebecca, I'm not looking for company. I start work in the morning and from what I've heard about Doctor Fairless, he'd have no sympathy for a tired, debauched nurse. I'm not man-mad if that's what you're worried about. I'm a career woman." "I don't believe you," Rebecca returned, scowling. "You're going out there to look for him. I saw you talking." "Then I can't help you." With a quick movement Ellesdora darted by the girl and made her way quickly along the landing. How she would stand a week at Ravenscleugh Farm she did not imagine; the father was a bully, the mother gave her the creeps and the daughter was mad ... man-mad. Crazily infatuated, she'd say, with a bad-mannered intellectual twice her age. A few kind words and

she probably sat for hours for the man. No wonder Ma Willis was wary of men. But it would be useless trying to warn Rebecca of the pitfalls ahead, the girl was already over the hill... living in a fantasy world of romantic illusion. It was pathetic. She strode out, suddenly very angry. As she went out of the back door a dog barked and a gaggle of geese skidded round the gate and crossed the yard to an outbuilding. Then she saw a young man emerge from another building. He was tall and dark- skinned and very good-looking, attractive even in his overalls and round woollen hat. He crossed the yard and as he drew near Ellesdora saw that he had dark curly sideboards and eyes a deeper blue than his sister's and much more merry. He smiled and she returned the smile and for some reason felt better. Percy Willis looked normal enough. "Hello," he called as he dried his hands on his thighs and assessed Ellesdora with a lop-sided grin. "What are you doing here ? No one ever comes to Ravenscleugh." "I'm the new district nurse," Ellesdora told him shortly. "Didn't your mother tell you that you had a lodger for a week or two ?" Percy grinned mischievously. "Now she might have done. But come to think of it you don't look much like a nurse ... at least not like the last one. She could have lodged here for a year and I wouldn't have noticed." "Why doesn't anyone come here?" Ellesdora asked, stirring the ground with a nervous toe, very conscious now of Percy's probing eyes. "It's the folks," he said, and shrugged his shoulders. "They're a bit on the old-fashioned side. And Ma frightens everyone off. She's

superstitious." With a laugh he dismissed his parents. "What's your name, then ?" he asked. "Lorraine. Nurse Lorraine," Ellesdora told him. The corners of Percy's eyes crinkled up as he studied Ellesdora with laughing eyes. "I can't call a young thing like you Lorraine," he protested, "What's your other name?" "Oh, I'm not so young," Ellesdora teased back. "I'm about five years older than your sister. That's a grim fact." "It still doesn't exactly make you a granny. Come on, what's your name?" Percy's mouth curved mischievously now and there was no mistaking the intent of the gleam from beneath his half-lidded eyes. When Ellesdora did not answer him at once, he threw back his head and laughed and told her, "Well, whoever you are, what about coming down to the Black Raven with me tonight? If you don't live it up in these parts you go into a decline." Ellesdora took a few steps ahead of him. "I didn't come out here to live it up," she murmured as though to herself. "I came out here to get experience in district nursing. I start work in the morning and I'll have to be up early. I'll have to telephone Doctor Fairless too." "Dapper Dan. I know him." Percy was at her side again. "He's been up here to see Ma." "What's wrong with your mother?" Interested, Ellesdora turned back to face Percy. "Her hip," he told her with a tired sigh. "It's rheumatism. She should see a specialist, but you can't tell Ma anything. The doctor soon stopped coming— especially when he saw that bit of potato round her neck." He sighed again and searched the far fells with

thoughtful eyes. "She actually thinks it absorbs the pain. How dotty can you get ?" "If the pains are bad you'll try anything," Ellesdora told him sharply. "In any case I'm not surprised at anyone getting rheumatism out here. It's so wild, so exposed. It must be awful in winter." "It is." Percy snapped the answer between his strong white teeth. "The winds just tear down from those hilltops. There's nothing to stop them. The place is like a wilderness." Just as he spoke a wide sweep of wings beat their way somewhere above them and a great bird bubbled out a night call so melancholy and plaintive that it seemed to lay emphasis on Percy's words. "It's almost dark," Ellesdora said quickly. "I'll just have time to walk as far as the gate and back." "I'm going in for my supper," Percy said as he turned to the back door. "If you change your mind about coming down to the Black Raven with me, let me know." Ellesdora walked on, out of the farm gate and down the rutted fell track towards the second gate. It was a grim steeply sloping fell and the hills far away to the north loomed black and solemn now that the sun had set behind them. The track was very rough and very stony and, the walking was difficult. Ellesdora was glad to reach the second gate and stand leaning against it for a while. In the growing darkness she thought of her mother, loving, warm, a trifle sentimental, then she thought of Rebecca's mother and a wave of sympathy for the young girl swept through her. Mrs. Willis was a strange woman, highly superstitious and hard. Her eyes were hard and cold, yet Ellesdora had the feeling that once they had been beautiful... soft, trusting.

She shuddered a little and stared into space. What chance had, anyone in such a country? She narrowed her eyes and scanned the encircling hills, the endless undulating grey fell land, the scant trees and with a new apprehension wondered how she would get through a winter in such a place. But the night air was still and fresh with the scent of heather and bracken and Ellesdora braced herself and put aside her wintry thoughts. She could see the lights in the village, twinkling and beckoning. Above her a star had appeared, a bright star. Ellesdora stared up at it for a moment, up into the endless dome of night sky above her, then just as she decided to hurry back to the farmhouse she caught the sound of a girl's soft laughter. Ellesdora looked round quickly, held her breath. And then the moon rode out like a golden chariot from behind a wall of cloud and peering over the gate, Ellesdora gasped and fell back at the sight of two figures she could see huddled close against a grey stone wall not twenty yards away and at the foot of a steep decline. There was no mistaking the golden head! Or the laughter. Ellesdora backed away, but not before she had caught sight of the tall figure drawing the girl into the circle of his arm. So they met after dark on the fells! So the young girl told lies? But why? Was she so insanely in love that she feared any kind of competition? Standing still for a moment, Ellesdora caught her breath. The girl's voice was carried on the night air. "Oh, Nicholas, that's wonderful! Of course I can. What should I do now? Tell me ... tell me !" "We'll stay here for a while. Don't move, Rebecca. Good girl." Yes, Ellesdora recognized the deep masculine voice of the stranger she had met by the gate. Its firm dominance seemed to part the

night air like a sword; it was a strong, cultured voice and to Ellesdora it did not seem the right accompaniment to the thin reedy excited voice of the country girl. But there they were together, down in the dip in the moonlight. Acutely embarrassed for some ridiculous reason, Ellesdora stumbled on making her way as quickly as she could back to the farmhouse. Perhaps Mrs. Willis had some very good reason to be concerned for her daughter. The man, whoever he was ... Nicholas someone ... was almost twice Rebecca Willis's age. What fools girls were! Her face was hot with resentment. And she was a fool too! She had actually taken him for some absentminded intellectual, a man who would have little time for girls and none whatever for dallying with the Rebeccas of this world. Bitterly, she pushed the stackyard gate open. She knew nothing whatever about men, she told herself. Nothing whatever! But then the girls back at hospital had told her often enough. "You're far too conscientious," they had warned her. "You're going to miss everything if you're not careful, Ellesdora." Still breathless, Ellesdora reached the back door. What a place! Angry voices came from the kitchen. Jasper Willis was roaring at his poor wife about something. Ellesdora leant against the passage wall, not meaning to listen, merely to get her breath. "Some men would fair have you put away, Ellen Willis," echoed Jasper's exasperated and angry voice. "The nurse has just got here and you've got her marked already. What if she has big eyes ? And what if they are yellow?" Ellesdora's heart beat fearfully. They were talking about her. "And what if she has looked at your son ? He's a tidy enough lad, isn't he? Where else would she be looking at, at her age?"

Mrs. Willis's mournful voice rose again. "I tell you, Jasper, she'll owl-eye him. I've seen it before. My mother always warned me. I don't like those kind of eyes, and I've got a strange feeling... like a premonition." "Well, keep it to yourself, Ellen Willis." Mr. Willis's voice held a threat now. "I don't want any more trouble here. And what's more I don't want my wife to be the laughing stock of the countryside." A chair scraped across the floor. "You look after your daughter, woman," he went on harshly. "Rebecca's as wild as they make them. She'll be in trouble yet." "She's owl-eyed, I've told you." The woman's voice was cut off by the sound of a door being fiercely slammed shut. Ellesdora bit her lip. So she was owl-eyed! With an angry gesture she pushed open the kitchen door and glared in. "I'm going to bed," she said sharply. "I don't want anything else tonight, Mrs. Willis." Mrs. Willis drew herself up; her face was very still, her eyes very steady. "I thought you were going out with Percy," she said in a dead voice. "I said I was going to bed, Mrs. Willis. I want to make an early start in the morning. Your son must have got the wrong idea." The flash in Ellesdora's eyes intimated that Mrs. Willis had also got the wrong idea, then she spun round and hurried off, leaving the woman still staring and speechless. She had had enough of the Willis family already.

"Where do you think you're going?" Percy Willis stopped Ellesdora at the foot of the stairs. "Come on. Be a sport. Let me show you off to the locals." The young man's deep blue twinkling eyes were appealing and for a moment Ellesdora forgot her anger. Wearing a smart tan jacket and an open-necked coral shirt, Percy Willis looked both handsome and outrageously healthy and virile. His smile was flirtatious, yet it still held a hint of shyness. His hair was thick and waving and black and it hung to the curve of his jaw, the crinkly sideboards curled like little beards about his ears and his skin was hard and firm and mahogany coloured. Ellesdora found herself smiling at him against her will. "I'm sorry," she said, because she thought he was at least the most normal member of the Willis family, "but I really must turn in. I'm tired." "I'll believe you. And there's always tomorrow." Percy straightened his rather garish necktie. "You look quite dishy," Ellesdora said, watching him, her own eyes just a little playful now. Mrs. Willis came stalking along the passage towards them. "Watch it," Percy said under his breath. "Don't sit up all night waiting for me, Ma," he went on. "I'm a big boy now." "You'll be finding the door locked one of these nights, my boy!" Percy ignored his mother's warning. "What's the nurse's name?" he asked. "She won't tell me. Do you know what it is, Ma?"

Ellesdora flushed a little. She'd never cared much for the rather pretentious name her mother had given her. "I don't know where my mother found such a name," she laughed nervously. "But if you must know, Percy, I'm called Ellesdora ... Ellesdora Lorraine." "Ellesdora!" Percy whistled the name between his lips. Mrs. Willis fell back as though she'd been struck between the eyes. "Ellesdora!" The name faltered from her thin lips. "Ellesdora !" Ellesdora swallowed hard. So they didn't like it. She looked first at Percy and then at Mrs. Willis, and her heart leapt. An uncanny silence seemed to have filled the whole house. And why were the mother and son staring at each other with such consternation on their sober faces? Why? "I didn't expect you to like it," she said weakly, sensing now something indeed was troubling them. "What's wrong?" suddenly demanded, her eyes hard on Mrs. Willis. "Don't approve of my name? Is there something awful about that?" voice faltered. "Why are you staring at me?"

that she you Her

The merry light had gone from Percy's eyes and now he moved uncomfortably towards the hall and the front door. "It's a nice enough name," he called back uneasily, "but not a very popular one in these parts." Looking back, he peered hard at Ellesdora, then he called to his mother, "Don't wait up for me, Ma. And stop worrying. Don't get yourself all worked up because of a name." He gave Ellesdora a quick wink. "Be seeing you, Nurse," he called, and then he was off.

Mrs. Willis's gaze followed her son. "He never uses the front door," she said in a toneless voice. When the door banged shut she closed her eyes for a moment. "I suppose that's another bad omen," Ellesdora flung impatiently, before she turned to the stairs. "Just a minute, Nurse!" The cold voice called Ellesdora back; their eyes met, hostile now. "If I were you," Mrs. Willis said, and there was something dead about her face now, "I wouldn't tell the folks down in the village that your name's Ellesdora. Believe me, if you do, there'll be trouble. Keep it to yourself. Superstition dies hard in these hills." "What do you mean?" Ellesdora faced the woman squarely and her chin rose arrogantly, her eyes flashed. "What has my name got to do with your silly superstitions?" "You'll see." The woman turned to go, but Ellesdora caught her arm. "If you take my advice," Mrs. Willis said, staring back at Ellesdora with cold unblinking eyes, "you'll go now. If you stay there'll be nothing but trouble." "What do you mean?" Ellesdora's voice rose a little shrilly. "I've just arrived. You wanted me here. You offered to board me ... yet now you're telling me to go!" The woman sighed long and wearily. She pulled down her upper lip and frowned, her eyes narrowed. Then to Ellesdora's astonishment she asked in a low, almost intimate voice, "Why did you come, Ellesdora? Why did you come back?"

CHAPTER TWO IT was a crazy house. She was owl-eyed. And now there was something strange and significant about her name. Making her way up the steep dark flight of stairs, Ellesdora felt her hopes falling like autumn leaves. Mrs. Willis was definitely unbalanced, the daughter wild, the father savage, the son intimidated by his mother. She tried to feel amused, tried to smile at the idea of landing at such a house, but no light came to her eyes. Her facial muscles tightened; she would let the Nursing Council know what she thought of this appointment! With these resentful thoughts in mind,- Ellesdora closed her bedroom door and switched on the light. The room had a musty smell and on one wall she noticed that the damp wallpaper had begun to fall off. But it was clean enough, and someone had lit the oil-stove. Between the dark freckles of the old wardrobe mirror she squinted at her face. What was wrong with her name? "Ellesdora," she whispered, and thrusting her face closer to the mirror she whispered it again, "Ellesdora." It was rather an unusual name, but her mother had liked it, and now she thought determinedly, I like it too. As for being owl-eyed—The woman had a nerve. She knew she was no beauty, but she had nice eyes. They were her best feature. All the nurses had said so, teased her with, 'Sexy orbs!' She stood in happy retrospect for a moment remembering past praises, her friends. Why had she left them? She could have gone to London, to the Clinic. She could have specialized. She sighed heavily. What had she done? Buried herself! That girl Rebecca Willis flitted about the place like a ghost. She thought of Percy Willis and for a moment felt sorry for him. Then she began to wander about the room. She'd stick it for a week or two, she told herself, but no

more. Her aunt lived in Newcastle and she'd go there, resign if things didn't get a little more pleasant. No, a little more normal, she corrected herself. Somehow she felt that Mrs. Willis did not intend to be unpleasant; she sensed that the woman was being provoked, motivated by something bigger than herself, something deep in her mind—and something not very nice. Just as Ellesdora was beginning to enjoy diagnosing Mrs. Willis's condition she heard, a sharp smack on the window and with a gasp of alarm she whirled round. She listened fearfully and it came again ... and again. Someone was throwing stones at her window, trying to draw her attention. With held breath and trembling limbs Ellesdora tiptoed across the room and standing to the side of the curtains she peered out and down into the small walled garden below. She gasped and then pulled a face of exasperation. It was Percy Willis! She tugged at the curtain and in the moonlight she could see him waving frantically. "Go away!" she mouthed against the pane, but she could not get him to understand, or at least he pretended not to, and at last she eased up the heavy sash window and called with annoyance, "What do you want now?" "Just another look at you." Percy grinned up at her. "And don't take any notice of Ma. I've told you she's superstitious. She's wearing us all down with it." His eyes suddenly sparked and he held out his arms. "Come on," he encouraged mischievously, "don't go to bed. You'll just get melancholy. Come down to the Black Raven with me." Ellesdora stared at him for a moment. "I've told your mother I've gone to bed," she began hesitantly.

"That's nothing," Percy hissed up gleefully. "Come down the back landing stairs. They lead down into the granary. I'll be waiting there for you. She'll never even know you've been out." Ellesdora felt a little reckless. Percy wanted to show her off to the locals and he would. She made up her mind. "I'll be five minutes," she whispered down to him. "Wait in the granary." "That's great!" Percy rubbed his hands together in a gesture of delight and danced around. "It's the grubby-looking door at the end of the landing," he told her quickly. "There's a key in it." Ellesdora nodded and drew the curtains. She felt excited and for a moment she stood thinking, her hand over her mouth. Then she laughed outright. She wouldn't wear her midi clothes, she'd wear her mini skirt, a ribbed white sweater, her long white boots, loads of eye make-up and a Charlotte Bronte hairstyle, smooth and sweet. She laughed at herself as she got to work and five minutes later was making her way stealthily along the landing towards the one unused-looking and drably painted door. With held breath she turned the key and after another furtive glance over her shoulder pushed the door open. It winced and creaked and a draught of strange-smelling air filled Ellesdora's lungs. But there was a light switch and with a shaking hand she quickly turned it on. "Put that out!" Percy hissed from below. "My God, put it out!" Ellesdora flicked the switch off again, her heart beating apprehensively, her face flushing. The stone stairs below her had looked worn and shockingly steep. "I'll come up for you," Percy Whispered encouragingly. "Don't move, I've got a torch."

Shivering, Ellesdora waited for him, then in silence she allowed herself to be guided slowly and carefully step by step down by a rough, deathly cold wall. Then they were on the ground again and she breathed with relief and Percy was saying, "Someone would have been sure to have seen the light. Are you all right?" "Just a bit cold." "I'll give you a hug, then." "No, no, I'm not as cold as that. Let's get out of here. I don't like the smell." "Just one kiss." "Oh, don't be ridiculous Percy!" Her voice rose impatiently. "If we're going to this Black Raven, let's go. "All right." He took her hand. "The car's round at the back. We'll make a run for it. You never know, that cat Rebecca might be on the prowl." Ellesdora felt as though she had been flung into the car like a sack of wheat. Panting, helplessly, she watched Percy go round the front of the vehicle and then get in beside her. Half way down the track he said, "I like your gear. You can't beat the mini. Well, not with those legs." Ellesdora's lips tightened. She'd never cared for gauche young men, but Percy Willis was at least harmless enough and she was glad to get out of the house, so she gave him a smile and teased, "I expect you get around, Percy." Percy looked pleased. "I do," he returned, and his grin was attractively lopsided, "but I keep away from the city girls. They're

over-smart for me. They'd take the mickey out of a simple country lad. I'd trust my dog more than one of those fancy creatures." He was silent for a few moments, then he laughed as though at his own thoughts. They drove on for a while, downhill all the way, then Percy turned over a humped-backed bridge and drove along a narrow twisting lane into a village and Ellesdora leant forward eagerly and peered out of the window. In the moonlight it was as bright as day and she could see the village etched in finest detail. But soon she leaned back against her seat again, for the whole place had a melancholy air. The houses, some small cottages, others high austere-looking buildings and, new bungalows stacked together about the round village green as though glad of the company of one another and just a little scared of the great ancient pele tower, built up into a vicarage, that loomed watchfully head and shoulders over them. Sensing Ellesdora's disappointment, Percy encouraged, "Wait until we get into the Black Raven. Things will liven up then." "Everyone must have gone to bed," Ellesdora laughed halfheartedly as she peered again at the shut- up faces of the houses. "It's the farmers who mostly get down to the Black Raven," Percy informed her. "One or two of the villagers come in for a chat. Friday's the best, it's like a club then." Ellesdora was not listening. She craned her neck to get a better look at a large beautiful tree that rose from the centre of the green like a fountain, and as they drove along she turned on her seat so that she could continue to stare at it. "What a wonderful tree !" she gasped. "I've never seen one so beautiful." "Oh, yes," Percy said in a clipped voice and as though he had no interest in trees whatever. And then they were stopping and Percy

was parking the car on the edge of the green and saying, "Here we are. This is it." The Black Raven was a tall plain building with roses still clinging to its pebbled walls. The door to the pub opened on to the road and so it had no impressive entrance. "It's great inside," Percy said, the moment they got out of the car. And glancing round at the other parked cars, "The mob must be in." He grabbed her arm and steered her across the road. "Come on," he laughed, "we're wasting valuable drinking time." And with a light in his eyes that suggested he was on his way to some bacchanalian orgy, he led the way and opened the sturdy door. At once Ellesdora's heart sank. There was no cheerful mob; there didn't appear to be anyone at first. The interior of the place was dimly lit and as far as she could see Ellesdora thought it looked like someone's rather untidy parlour. But there was a fire about which stood one or two mumbling women and at the bar stood a very sober-looking little band of men who also talked in undertones. Behind the bar stood, a man with a large nose, large glasses and a gnome-like expression. Percy was already chatting to a woman who sat at a small table alone. She looked middle-aged and she had large sad blue eyes, grey wispy hair and a white face. "Well, how are you tonight, Harriet?" Percy asked. "Oh, I'm all right now, Percy boy. Nothing to grumble about." The woman's smile was wistful. "Good for you. What will you have?" Percy's voice was lively, kindly encouraging. "And how's the cat? Still got it?" The woman seemed to come to life. Her face was strangely radiated. "Sammy? Oh, he's fine. What a nice little creature he is.

Of course I've still got him. I've got him and he's got me.... That's how it goes." "You'll have one for Sammy, then?" Percy advanced, to the bar, as happy as a king. Following him closely, Ellesdora whispered, "Who's that woman ?" "Tell you in a minute," Percy said under his breath. Then pushing Ellesdora forward so that the barman could see her he said proudly, "Two of the best for Harriet there, one for me and an orange for this young lady." "And how's your fettle tonight?" George the barman asked, but his large curious eyes were hard on Ellesdora. "I'm in great shape, George." Percy grinned at Ellesdora appreciatively and carried the tray away, Ellesdora still following him, not knowing where to go. "Up there, in the snug," Percy told her. "I'll not be a moment. I'll just fix Harriet up." The snug was at the far end of the room partitioned off and divided into cosy little recesses fitted with long benches and forms of dark oak. Ellesdora sat down in the first empty recess and waited for Percy to return. She could hear the door opening and shutting and cries of delight as the farmers noisily greeted each other. The Black Raven was filling up. Percy came and sat down beside her. "You just wanted orange, didn't you?" he asked. He sat back, his face, his blue eyes full of approval. "They're coming in now," he told her. "Just listen to them." He tapped on the partition. "It's the Farmers' Union, next

door," he grinned. "Wait until they get cracking!" He rubbed his hands together. "Tommy Dunn should be down tonight with his fiddle. He gets them going." He peered over his glass. "Would you like a game of darts?" "No, I wouldn't." Suddenly Ellesdora wished she had stayed at the farm. She did not understand these people; they were alien to her. She didn't like their long steady stares or the way they looked. There were few young people—a few young foresters, Percy told her. A shock of dark hair and a bushy beard appeared round the partition and a jovial voice called, "Percy man, we're ready to start. Are you coming?" Percy's hand shot to his mouth. He turned to Ellesdora with a look of shock in his eyes. "I'm on the team," he told her. "I'd forgotten. Will you come and sit in there and watch ?" "No, no." Ellesdora suddenly felt overcome by shyness. "You go," she told him swiftly. "I'll be all right. I'll get another drink when I want one." "I can't go and leave you," Percy said, but he was already on his feet." "They're shouting for you, so you'd better. I'll be all right, Percy. Don't look so worried." Ellesdora tried to smile encouragingly. Percy went after assuring her that he would not be long and for a few moments Ellesdora sat agonized. Glasses chinked, she could hear someone poking up the fire and then the whole room danced with light and shadow. She bit her lip and stared down into her orange drink. She had never felt so lonely. She sighed and smiled a

little at the Northumbrian voices that came from the other side of the partition. "I tell you the young swan was gone. Something's got it," one voice protested. "I was up at the Witch's Pool last night and there was only the two big swans and one young one left." "An owl must have got it," another voice cut in. "My old father used to say the owls got the weakly ones." "Nay, nay, it'll be a pike... aged. There's pike in that pool that would eat a baby. It's deep enough and black enough. They just come up and grab anything." "You're all wrong," came a third dominant voice. "The male swan often kills a male cygnet. That's how the numbers are kept down. It stands to reason...." "Never in the world, it's the owl, I tell you." Ellesdora closed her eyes for a moment, thinking; thinking of thestrange world she had strayed into and wishing that some kind genie might appear and spirit her back to the brightly lit city, her civilized friends. She had never felt so lonely. And she was just a little afraid—of what she did not know. Or was it just the remoteness ? "Good evening." Ellesdora looked up in surprise. It was just as though some tall strong genie had appeared. Standing looking down at her was the stranger... the man she had met at the gate; the man Rebecca called Nicholas. Startled, she stared up at him. "So we meet again !"

She caught the glimmer in his deep green eyes and flushed; for some reason she seemed to amuse him. His tone had been one of polite indifference and she was not surprised when he glanced around and said, "I usually sit here. But perhaps you would like me to move on." Again the colour flooded into her face. "It makes no difference to me," she faltered. "There's no one sitting here." "Thank you." He sat down at the opposite side of the oak table and eased himself into the corner, sat back, drew one long leg over the chair. "Do you mind?" he enquired as he drew a cigar from a small case. She shook her head and looked away from him. Seen close to the stranger was even more handsome than she had remembered. He was wearing black cords, a tan jacket and a black turtle-necked shirt. His face was strong and broad, his features good, his deep set eyes in the soft light a curious jade. His golden hair seemed to have been shaped to his head, only one thick waving piece fell across his broad straight brow. Ellesdora thought he looked like a modern Apollo in a very old-world ,pub, and she smiled, just faintly, at the idea. The silence though protracted itself and Ellesdora began to fidget, fumble in her bag, drain her glass. All the time she was conscious of his steady penetrating eyes. She took a deep steadying breath. Surely he would speak, say something; surely he was not so impolite. As though he had sensed her confusion, Nicholas Turk came to life. He sat up, and one of his eyebrows quirked up. "Forgive me," he said quickly, "I had something formulating in my mind. But

now can I get you a drink? What will you have? And what are you doing here all alone?" Ellesdora swallowed hard. "I came down with Percy Willis," she told him shyly. "I'm the new district nurse and I'm staying with the Willis family for a week or two, until my own house is ready." She shook her head. "No, I don't want anything else to drink." The stranger studied Ellesdora with some concentration for a moment, then he said, "Well, this isn't exactly a marble hall, but it has local colour. And it is the only meeting place for miles around." He leant over the table and smiled for the first time. "My name's Turk," he introduced himself, "Nicholas Turk. I'm not a local, but I do spend three months of the year here. I have a house down by the stream at the far end of the village. I hope you'll be happy here, Miss... "Lorraine," Ellesdora returned in a small voice. "Nurse Lorraine. But I expect Rebecca's told you about me." "Rebecca?" He looked up sharply, but then he laughed. "As a matter of fact she did," he confessed. "But I'm a little absentminded. Most astronomers are. It's all this star-gazing." An astronomer! Ellesdora blinked at him. So that accounted for the preoccupied look, the rude indifference. "Do you write?" she asked, her young face suddenly bright with interest. His eyelids slowly covered his eyes, an attractive habit Ellesdora was to get used to, and his smile was slow when he met her wide eyes again. "No," he said, and the amusement was there in his eyes again. "No, I don't write. I'm a lecturer most of the year—history. Astronomy is something I indulge in. It intrigues me." He laughed

softly and a deep groove appeared to the side of his jaw like an elongated dimple. "I'd say it was an obsession." "Well, at least you'll have something to do," Ellesdora said as she peered round the shadowed walls of the snug. "I can't imagine how I'm going to survive." "Can't you? Why not?" The words seem to have been shot at her. "Because," Ellesdora said, holding his eyes, "I'm afraid I'm not the kind of girl everyone takes to. Mrs. Willis at Ravenscleugh has already made her mind up about me. She doesn't like me at all...." She took a deep breath and added like a confession, "And I don't like her. She terrifies me to death." Nervously she drained her empty glass again. "She's the strangest woman I've ever met. Superstitious." Nicholas Turk frowned, but not unpleasantly. "Nonsense," he said. "They're characters, that's all. In a place like this they must be. I've never myself been in such a dusty old corner of the globe, but I love Havenfield." There was a light of interest and appreciation in his eyes now. "This place 'hasn't changed for centuries. The local speech is still that of their forebears. Civilization has passed this place by, Miss Lorraine. The people here still hang on to their old superstitions." He raised his glass. "And why not?" Ellesdora sat staring at him, saying nothing. He had a cultured, academic voice; he was interested in stars, not women. And yet she knew he was having an affair with the wild Rebecca. She'd seen them together that very night. She moistened her lip. It seemed strange, but it was really no business of hers. And men were strange creatures.

"How do you get on with Rebecca, then?" he was asking, and Ellesdora flinched, thinking that he had read her thoughts. She humped her shoulders. "I think Rebecca's suspicious of me too," she said, and looked away; she suddenly felt like laughing. "She's a strange child," Nicholas went on swiftly, with enthusiasm. "Out of this world. I'm painting her at the moment. I must catch that strange cunning; that animal-like wariness. I'd never find it again." "You seem to do everything, Mr. Turk." "A little of everything," he corrected, and for a moment his eyes were critical, arrogant even. Ellesdora knew that he was certainly not out to charm her. The indifference was there in his green eyes again. He drew from his cigar and looked away and plainly he was thinking of someone else. "Yes, Rebecca's a strange little creature," he murmured as he watched the smoke curl in the air. "What Rebecca has I'll never find again." She noticed how bronzed his skin was and in a flash how beautiful and yet capable his hands. For a moment she closed her eyes. She did want to look at him. This Nicholas Turk aroused in her a strange and dangerous emotion, one which filled her full of resentment and thrilled her at the same time. As for poor little Rebecca—she could see why the girl was so madly infatuated. But... her heart wrung the thought from her... how could a man like this be so attracted to a girl like Rebecca? To begin with he looked twice the girl's age; mentally the girl could never be his companion, but....

Ellesdora's train of thought was interrupted mercifully by someone who had come up and stuck his head about the partition. He was a man of about fifty with black hair and even blacker merry eyes. He waggled a finger roguishly at Nicholas. "I thought it was you, Mr. Turk," the man jeered, and chuckled over his own thoughts for a moment as he eyed Ellesdora. "Having a change tonight, eh?" His foxy eyes were bright with insinuation. "Good evening, Tom," Nicholas said abruptly. "Can I buy you a drink ?" Tom swaggered a little, falling against the table and leering at Ellesdora. "My, but here's a fine young woman," he exclaimed. "You'll not find the likes of this one prowling round on the fells. This one's a lady, I can see that." The smoke-laden room, the uncouth behaviour of the stranger, was suddenly all too much for Ellesdora. She got to her feet. So everyone, it seemed, knew of Nicholas Turk's philandering with the young country girl! "I must find Percy... tell him that I'd like to go." Her words fell limply. "If you'll excuse me." Nicholas Turk's face was stiff with suppressed emotion. With a gesture and a flash of his eyes he dismissed the countryman who had a little too much to drink and taking Ellesdora's arm began to steer her back to the bar. The grip of his fingers was like steel, and it passed through her mind as they went that in some way she had been caught and held in that vice-like grip for ever. But it was a silly thought and she shook it off as a shout of delight from a member of the darts team filled the room.

"We needn't bother Percy," Nicholas Turk said firmly. "They'll be playing for hours." He moved her into a corner. "Stand there," he told her. "I'll have a word with young Percy, then we'll go." With fast beating heart Ellesdora watched him stride away and all the eyes that followed his tall handsome figure. Then she noticed that one of the women at the bar was giving her a stony stare. She remembered it was the cat woman, Harriet someone, and she turned away, wishing again that she had never come to Havenfield; -the atmosphere was full of antagonism; country people did not like strangers in their midst. Yet they obviously liked Nicholas Turk. From the look on their faces as they followed him around they greatly admired him. She watched him find Percy, have a few words with him, then push his way back through the noisy mob. "Everyone seems to be here tonight," he told her the moment he got back. "It's someone's birthday and they're intent upon living it up." Ellesdora caught Percy's eye and gave him a quick wave, but she turned away quickly before his conscience could get the better of him. She did not want him to leave his darts. Nicholas held the door and Ellesdora walked out into the calming cool night air. The door closed behind them and she took a quick step as though to hurry off on her own, but Nicholas caught her arm again and held her back. "There's no need to look so upset," he said, and again his voice was a little cold and critical. "It takes time to get used to the villagers, I grant you, but old Tom didn't mean to offend you. He wanted to be friendly. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to this rustic kind of humour if you're going to stay at Haven- field."

"Friendly!" Ellesdora shuddered. She bit her lip and stemmed angry tears. "Did you see the friendly eyes of that cat woman on me?" she laughed sarcastically. They walked over to the green. "There is a barmy fringe of locals, I must admit," Nicholas said more gravely. "But they wouldn't do anyone any harm. They're just a little suspicious of strangers." "Is there something wrong with that woman's cat?" Ellesdora asked as they walked to Nicholas's car. "Percy asked her about it." "Everyone asks after Sammy," Nicholas laughed softly. "He's a pretty little black cat, but he's not quite right in the head. The vet wanted to take it away, but old Harriet insisted upon keeping it. She's a lonely woman and Sammy, batty though he may be, makes all the difference." "Oh dear, that sounds sad." Ellesdora paused for a moment to look up into Nicholas's rather stern face. "I suppose the poor woman's all right? I'll pay her a visit as soon as I can." "That would be kind." "At least she's not as terrifying as Mrs. Willis." Ellesdora paused again and looking up at Nicholas her face was as waxen as a lily's in the moonlight, her wide amber eyes like gems. "Now she really gives me the creeps. I hadn't been in the house five minutes before I heard her telling her husband that I had owl-eyes and that I was trying to put a spell on her precious son. She's not superstitious, she's quite mad. I'm sure of it." She tried to laugh, but the little noise died in her throat. "I've always known I'm no great beauty," she told him. "But I never thought I looked as awful as an owl." She flung back her long dark hair and grimaced painfully. "You wouldn't want to paint a girl with owl eyes, would you?"

They had reached the car, but Nicholas had turned away and to Ellesdora's humiliation she saw that he was once again preoccupied, his head back, his eyes on the splinters of light in the vast purple globe above them. Once again he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was there with him . . . and horribly rude. "This is your car!" Her voice was more of an accusation than a question. Again he did not hear her and this time Ellesdora flushed with embarrassment. Still, she shrugged, she was glad; she'd been talking a lot of rubbish anyhow. She watched him closely, then caught an expression in his eyes that made her heart beat faster. She bit her lip and turned away to walk for a moment or two over the green. Even the dedication on his face attracted her; the passion for whatever he saw. Her own brow creased a little and she shook her head a little as though trying to get rid of some disturbing thought. Then she saw the tree again, and stood perfectly still looking at it, sheer fascination in her own eyes now. It was a silver birch and in the moonlight it rose from the ground like a silver fountain. It rose so beautifully; it was so breathtakingly beautiful that Ellesdora forgot Nicholas instantly. She held her breath and with a sense of great wonderment stared at the tree, for she had never seen anything so lovely... or so intimidating. She began to walk, slowly, lightly, like a ghost towards it. She held out her arms, smiled ... "What are you doing?" Nicholas was striding after her. "Is there something wrong?" His deep masculine voice filled the night. "Can't you see? Nurse!"

Ellesdora shook herself out of her trance and blinked and laughed. "I thought you'd gone to sleep on your feet," she tossed back, but for some reason she felt a little shaken. She did not know why. She glanced at the tree again and then back at Nicholas. "I'm sorry, Nurse." He grinned and the deep groove appeared in his cheek again. "I just had to salute another fair lady. I hadn't expected to see her this evening either." He chuckled and stood beside her, his eyes too on the tree. "My favourite star," he exclaimed. "You must forgive me again. I'm afraid astronomers are very bad-mannered people." "Forgiven," said Ellesdora limply, but her eyes were still on the silver birch. "I can understand. I can't take my eyes off that tree." Her voice was tinged with a strange yearning. "Isn't it wonderful, Mr. Turk? Doesn't it... doesn't it draw you ?" She laughed nervously and turned to face him. "Or is it just me imagining it?" "I must be immune," he said in a clipped voice that made Ellesdora frown a little. "But you're right, there is something about that tree. At least the villagers say so. They refuse to look at it in the moonlight. They say it's unlucky." "What nonsense! Isn't that just like them?" Ellesdora's voice rose impatiently. "How could anything so beautiful be unlucky? How can they be so silly, especially in this day and age?" "Not silly, superstitious." They went on staring at the tree together. "Remember there isn't even a main road through this village. There never has been. Only the hills guard it and civilization has passed it by. The old fears have been passed down from generation to generation. And believe me, there has been real fear in this small Border settlement. It's not long since there were enemies on all sides."

Ellesdora smoothed her hair down with her fingers. "You sound as though you believe in old wives' tales," she teased. "Tell me, why won't they look at this tree ? I expect you know." "Yes, I know." He spoke softly and Ellesdora looked up at the strong profile etched against the night sky by the moonlight. So conscious of his presence was she that she took a step away from him. She'd never been affected like this by a man before and she felt a little selfconscious, almost ashamed. "A witch was burned on that very spot where the birch stands," Nicholas told her gravely. "A beautiful creature, they say, who brewed secret potions and with their help managed to lure away the betrothed of one of the village girls." "A witch? Oh!" Ellesdora made a funny noise in her throat and turned away. "How awful! On that very spot?" "So it's recorded." Because Ellesdora shuddered so visibly he drew his arm across her shoulder and led her back across the green. "You shouldn't have told me. Go on, say. that," he teased. "I've spoilt everything." "You certainly have," Ellesdora whispered. He squeezed her arm. "I knew you'd be the sensitive, nervous type." She paused and for a moment her wide upraised eyes were upbraiding. "You mean silly," she said. "You think I'm silly, don't you?" One eyebrow quirked. "I didn't say that."

Ellesdora's head drooped a little. "I thought that tree looked like a bride," she said in a small disappointed voice. "Now I can't look at it without having horrible thoughts." "She was a bride, poor girl." "Who?" "The witch," he said quickly. "Or at least the girl they accused of being a witch ... Ellesdora." Ellesdora! His voice seemed to fade away and now her ears were full, suffocatingly full of the sound of her own name. Ellesdora! Ellesdora! She swung round to gasp and stare at the tree again, an expression of sheer horror in her yellow eyes, and in a flash she was transported—transported to a mysterious, terrifying world of long ago. Around her hostile eyes, dark shapes pressed... and everyone shouted, shouted loudly, "Ellesdora! Ellesdora!" It all sounded so evil. "You'll be all right now," came a deep concerned voice. "Keep your head down for a bit." For a few moments Ellesdora sat stiffly, here senses coming and going in waves of weakness. Then she felt better and everything came into focus and she was aware of the warm and reassuring presence of Nicholas Turk, aware too of the hard strength of his arm, the warmth of his hand -the tangy masculine smell of his skin. So she had fainted and he had carried her back to the car. "You're certainly not the material historians are made of," he murmured softly yet firmly against her hair. "Now take a grip on yourself. Pull yourself together."

The tone of his voice made her exert herself a little. She opened her eyes; her face was strained white, her eyes pleading; she needed comfort. She swayed over and pressed herself against Nicholas's strong body. She was being mad, something in the back of her brain reminded her, but she did not care. She felt so weak, so hazy... and she had been so terrified. She raised her trembling hand to his collar, to his neck. She wanted to touch him. But he drew it away and held it firmly. "You've certainly got no resistance to history," he told her a little gruffly. "You'd better stick to The Three Bears, Miss Lorraine. I'm afraid you're much to susceptible." Suddenly Ellesdora's eyes were wide open and her brain clear again. She stared at him. "You don't understand," she whispered in a voice full of anguish. "You don't understand at all. And I'm sorry if I've been a nuisance. If you'd just drive me back to Ravenscleugh...." "Are you sure you're all right now?" "Yes, I'm all right." She sat up straight on the seat, smoothed her hair back from her brow. "I'm sorry I've spoilt the night for you." Then to her own horror and astonishment she burst into tears, she could not help herself. She covered her face with her hands. "My dear girl!" He stopped the car again. "No, no," she insisted brokenly, "drive on. Don't stop. Don't stop here. Let's get away from the place." "My dear girl," he repeated again, "you really must pull yourself together. You can't allow your imagination to run away with you like this." He drew her hands gently away from her face and frowned at her.

"It's you who doesn't understand," she suddenly flung at him. "But my name happens to be Ellesdora !" He held her hands, forced her to look at him. "So what? Plenty of girls are called Mary... Joan. Does every Joan see herself being burned at the stake? Good heavens, girl, you can't get carried away like this. It's ridiculous. Silly, as you say." His eyes narrowed as he scanned her face. "Yes, I do think you're silly," he told her, but gently. "It was Mrs. Willis," Ellesdora tried to explain in a small hurried voice. "When I told her I was called Ellesdora she fell away from me as though I was a fiend.... I know I sound silly, but...." Her voice dwindled away and she sat staring into space, thinking about the tree again. "Not a bit of it," Nicholas said with a joking abruptness. "You're tired, that's all. Tomorrow you'll laugh at all this nonsense. You've scared yourself to death, panicked over nothing." She bit her lip and gave him a swift glance. Perhaps she had let the atmosphere of the place run away with her! And obviously Nicholas Turk had no time for hysterical girls. "Mrs. Willis did tell me that with a name like mine I'd wish I'd never come to Havenfield. That wasn't too encouraging, was it ?" "The woman's tactless, that's all." He spoke in a clipped, almost impatient tone now as though anxious to finalize the subject. "You'll just have to get used to her ways. You can't change things in a place like this." He accelerated as he spoke and the car nosed quickly up the wriggling fell road. "It's certainly a beautiful night," Ellesdora sighed, trying her best to feel normal again. Casting her gaze out of the window she

stared solemnly at the undulating land, awash with moonlight and surging upon them like some great silvery ocean. "It's a night for an astronomer," Nicholas asserted. "Brilliant. Just look at that constellation ahead! I must get back to Burnside House." In a glance Ellesdora saw the feverish excitement in his eyes, then she sat up and looked back and cried out, "Look, you've passed the track to Ravenscleugh." "Good heavens!" he chuckled deeply. "So I have." He stopped and backed the car slowly and swung off again along the narrow rutted track. Watching him, Ellesdora thought she had never seen a man so worked up, or a man with such a determined profile ... or with such a golden, sculptured head. With a pang of something like bitter resentment she found herself wondering if Nicholas Turk ever got so excited about a woman... or Rebecca Willis? As her thoughts trespassed, she lowered her head and drew down her eyelids. They reached the first gate and Nicholas got out to open it, pausing for a moment to glance up at the night sky again. With a sudden rush of her old humour, Ellesdora called, "That may be a very bright star up there, but it's certainly not the one showing the way to Bethlehem!"

CHAPTER THREE THE hasty departure of Nicholas Turk had by no means been flattering, but at least Mrs. Willis had no idea that she had been out. With a sigh Ellesdora got into bed, hoping that a good night's sleep would cure both her headache and her fears. She had been lucky, though, to get upstairs without being detected. And now she was tired, so tired. But a tap at the bedroom door made Ellesdora sit up with a start again and stare with annoyance at the door she had forgotten to bolt. "Who is it?' she called, trying to sound as though she had been disturbed out of a deep sleep. "What do you want?" The door opened slowly and Ellesdora's eyes opened wide. Rebecca stood in the doorway, the light from the landing behind her silhouetting her slender form. She stepped forward and Ellesdora caught the expression in the girl's round eyes and with an involuntary movement she drew back against her pillows. The girl's gaze was too steady, her body too still, and once again she reminded Ellesdora of some fierce little moorland creature. She was wearing a long white cotton nightgown and her fawn hair hung limply down over her shoulders; the light caught her rather sharp face and for a moment her teeth seemed to flash like fangs. "What do you want?" Ellesdora demanded, her face flushed with annoyance now. The young girl did not speak, but she took another few steps into the room and now the quick rise and fall of her young breast was discernible. "Where have you been?" Rebecca asked at last, her eyes bright with accusation. "You told us you were going to bed."

"I am in bed... and I'd like to get to sleep. So goodnight." "You deceived my mother!" "Oh, go away. Don't talk such rubbish. I'm not here to be interrogated." Ellesdora drew down the bed as she spoke. Rebecca looked like a ghost, her skin transparent almost in the eerie moonlight. She had moved to the foot of her bed. "You were with Nicholas!" Rebecca fired the words at Ellesdora. "I heard his car... I saw you both. You'd arranged it, hadn't you?" Ellesdora sat up again and this time her own eyes flashed angrily. "If you don't mind," she said sharply, "I'd like to get to sleep. And what I do, Rebecca, and who I do it with, is no business of yours. So goodnight!" Moving to the side of the bed, Rebecca glared down at Ellesdora now, real hate in her piercing eyes. "You like him, don't you?" she accused, and her voice rose in anguish. She shook with uncontrolled emotion. "I know you do !" Alarmed now, Ellesdora stared up at the contorted face of Rebecca. She sat up. "I don't know what all this is about," she said, and her eyes were puzzled. "Do you really expect me to give an account of my actions? I don't even know this man you're so obviously obsessed with. He gave me a lift back from the Black Raven, that's all." She frowned at the girl who had started to shiver visibly and added hotly, "And if you've got any sense get back to bed—you'll get pneumonia, standing there." With a deep sigh she lay down again and turned on her side, dragging down her pillow beneath her head. But the girl would not go. "He's attractive, isn't he?" she insisted. "Nicholas attracts all women."

A kind of anguish in the girl's voice made Ellesdora bite back angry words and struggle up on to one elbow again. Staring up at Rebecca, she was suddenly quietened by a feeling of compassion for the girl. Young, living with an insensitive family and in a remote backwood, Rebecca had grown like any other moorland creature, a little savage, a little afraid and very wary. And now that she had fallen in love she was going to protect her man and her territory from any possible usurper; the aggression was there in her small fierce face. It was pathetic— also a little frightening. A rush of sympathy for Rebecca made Ellesdora reach up and touch the girl's cold hand. Gently, she said, "Keep this to yourself, Rebecca. I went to the Black Raven with Percy. He persuaded me." She forced a little giggle. "Your brother's quite groovy, you know... if only he hadn't been a champion of darts! They soon dragged him off. That's why I had to get a lift back." But Rebecca did not appear to have even heard her and Ellesdora stared up in amazement at her now. "Did Nicholas mention me?" Rebecca was persisting. "Did he tell you anything?" Sinking down on to the edge of the bed as though her legs had gone weak, she searched Ellesdora's face and pleaded, "He must have told you about us?" "He didn't have time to tell me anything, Rebecca." Ellesdora moved uncomfortably now. "Look," she said more forcibly, "I'm not a bit interested in your Mr. Turk. And he's certainly not interested in me. I asked for a lift and got one, that's all." For a moment she met the girl's eyes directly. "And my advice to you," she said firmly, "is to have a bit more confidence in yourself. You surely know where you stand with this Mr. Turk. So don't sell yourself cheap... or short, Rebecca. Have a bit more confidence in yourself."

Rebecca was on her feet again and now in the moonlight her skin was aglow and quite pearly. "I'm in love with him," she burst out with all her pent-up emotion. "Oh, I adore him. You don't know how wonderful he is! How clever! And he's so kind to me." She shrugged her slim shoulders and for a moment her mouth twisted disdainfully. "Now that I've got Nicholas I certainly couldn't be bothered with any of the lads around here again. They're all so stupid." Her eyes flashed. "They can only think of one thing..." Her voice trailed away. "Nicholas is so different." She suddenly tossed back her hair in a gesture of fierce pride. "I'd do anything for him ... and he knows I'm not the type that goes from one man to another." "Does he?" Ellesdora's words fell limply, she slid down the bed again. "Good-night," she murmured. "I really must get to sleep, Rebecca. You can tell me more about this wonderful man tomorrow.... But don't get the wrong idea about me. I'm a career woman." She yawned and drew up the sheet. "I don't believe you!" Again the girl's voice rose in distraction. "You are attracted to Nicholas. You were thinking about him when I came in ... I saw your face." "Think what you like," Ellesdora snapped impatiently, and pulled the sheet over her head. But she did not shut her eyes, nor did she breathe freely again until she had heard the bedroom door clash shut. Only then did she emerge from the bedclothes and stare up at the high flaking ceiling. And still her heart beat fast. Rebecca was right; she was attracted to Nicholas Turk; she had been thinking about him. And why not? She thought with a rush of resentment and as she turned on to her side and dug her grave face into the pillow; every girl was allowed to dream.

It was the shrill voice of Mrs. Willis that awakened Ellesdora next morning and she sat up at once, her heart beating fast as she gazed about the strange room. Then she remembered where she was and pushed back the bedclothes. The room was full of early autumn sunshine and she could here the sound of heavy boots and argumentative raised voices. Outside the dogs were barking. It sounded as though someone was. already penning sheep. Then Ellesdora remembered what had happened the previous evening and flushed at the thought of Nicholas Turk having to pick her up and carry her back to the car. How could she have made such an exhibition of herself! And all because of a tree... a ghostly silver birch. All trees were ghostly-looking in the moonlight, she told herself in the sane light of day. She'd certainly let her imagination run riot, but she wouldn't do it again. She was going to allow a few country tales to unnerve her; somehow she'd build her reputation up again, let them all see that the girls from the town weren't idiots. With these resolutions in mind, she hummed her way to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, wearing her navy nylon uniform dress with crisp white collar and cuffs, she made her way jauntily downstairs to the kitchen. She had brushed her hair back and secured it rather primly at the nape of her neck. She wore a bright pink lipstick, but that was all, no eye make- up. Downstairs everything looked very normal. "Good morning," Ellesdora smiled. "What a lovely bright morning it is !" Mrs. Willis, cooking breakfast at the stove, was flushed and agitated. She nodded to Ellesdora but went on giving her daughter impatient glances. Rebecca stood by the dresser painting her nails. She was wearing jeans and a tan sweater. "What do you want with that rubbish?" Jasper Willis said as he came in the other door. "Can't you give your mother a hand?" He

dragged out a chair by the table and sat down, then saw Ellesdora and said something gruffly and gestured to her to sit down. Percy Willis was having his breakfast. "Hello," he said, his merry eyes glinting. "Feel rested after your early night?" Ellesdora sat down, but she could feel Rebecca glaring over her head at her brother. "There's been a phone call for you, Nurse," Mrs. Willis said abruptly. "The doctor wants you to get over there as soon as possible. Will you have one egg or two? White or brown?" "She means bread," Percy interpreted, and grinned down the table again. "Do you want brown bread or white?" "White, please, and just one egg, Mrs. Willis." Ellesdora moved uneasily on her chair. The Willis family seemed to reduce her to sheer panic. She could feel Rebecca's eyes boring into the back of her head while Percy's eyes flirtedly nakedly. The father had drawn a paper on to the table and he studied sheep prices while he ate. "How far is it to Whickerton?" Ellesdora enquired as Mrs. Willis set a plate before her. "Ten miles. You'd best leave before nine. The other nurse did. We used to see her old Ford going over the fell." "She was a good'n," Jasper remarked, his eyes still hard on his paper. "He means the old buggy," Percy interpreted again. "Not the nurse. Although she...."

"That will do, Percy!" Mrs. Willis cut in sharply. "There was nothing wrong with Barbara Hall." "We're not working late today, are we?" Percy gave the paper his father was reading a tug. "We'll work until we're finished," Jasper returned angrily, "you know that. We're dressing the lambs today. There's a mart on Wednesday and we want a good price." "If you're going to be in the pens all day put your thick stockings on, Percy. There's a sharp nip in the air this morning." "That's right, Ellen, look after the lad. Keep him fit. You can't get help these days." "You certainly can't if you won't pay for it, Jasper Willis." Mrs. Willis's voice rang with sarcasm. "You'd be finished if it wasn't for your family." Ellesdora saw Percy's mood change. The smile went from his face and he suddenly thrust back his chair. "Yes, but you might get a shock one of these days. I may not always be willing to work for a pittance." His blue eyes blazed with anger. "You're not going to dangle this farm at me like a carrot. It's more like a curse !" "That'll do, Percy." Just for a moment Mrs. Willis's voice softened. "You'll !be a lucky man one of these days." "I might when I'm seventy." Percy scowled and eyed his sister. "And what does Rebecca get? She works nearly as hard as I do. Look at her, there's not a picking on her. She should have gone away to school. She hasn't had a chance. And mark my words, she'll get into trouble yet. I've seen all the chaps eyeing her.... And

what's more, I don't like the way she eyes them back. She's been doing it since she was fourteen. What else can she do?" Acutely embarrassed, Ellesdora stood up as all eyes followed Percy to the door. "That was a lovely breakfast," she said quietly. "If you'll excuse me I think I'll have a short walk before I go." She glanced back at Rebecca. "Do you fancy a breath of fresh air?" she asked, trying to appear both sympathetic and friendly. "I haven't time," the girl said shortly, and with a sneering little smile she turned away. "Then I'm off." "See you later, Ellesdora!" It was Rebecca who had called after her and Ellesdora looked back at the girl in surprise, then she hurried out of the room. In the chilly passage she paused, wondering which way Percy had gone. Then she heard Mrs. Willis's raised agitated voice. "I'll not have you calling that nurse Ellesdora in this house!" the woman raged. "It's Nurse, remember that, my girl. I've trouble enough and I don't want any more!" Ellesdora moved on, but the woman's shrill admonition caught her up. "And Jasper Willis, get rid of that black hen! I don't like it. I never have. You may mock me, but mark my words, with an Ellesdora and a black hen about the place there's bound to be trouble !" "It's a good, layer. You want eggs, don't you?"

A chair scraped and Ellesdora tiptoed quickly away. The woman was batty. Poor old hen! It was incredible in this day and age to know that someone was so superstitious. But it was a bright keen morning and the sunlight pushed all murky fears to the back of her mind. As for her name.... As Nicholas Turk had said, there were plenty of Joans. She had nothing to worry about. She grabbed her uniform coat from a peg in the passage and hurried out of the back door. She could see Percy's dark hair above one of the grey stone walls and after pausing for a moment hurried off in the opposite direction. A great white cock with a red ruffle about his neck crowed again and the day officially began. Ten minutes later, high on the heather-clad fells, Ellesdora cast her gaze down into the valley to the small grey settlement that was Havenfield, then up again and across the vast moorland of bronzing fern and black peat patches to the outline of purple hills against the pale skyline. A light breeze played about her face and high above her two large birds called out their warning cries, then wheeled, soared and were off again towards the forest high above her. Ellesdora drew her coat about her; she was not cold, just very conscious of the wildness and the remoteness of the moors. She thought she heard the soft tinkling sound of running water, but after looking round she could see no burn or stream or even a trickle down one of the many shadowed fissures. She listened again, harder, straining her ears. For a moment she thought she heard someone calling, but again the sound was carried away by the soft breeze. Electronic music, she told, herself grimly; the place was so vast, there would be so many sound waves ... strange sound waves. She thought she heard the sound again and she turned about, looked this way and that way, but there was nothing, nobody, just the endless undulating fells and the sky and the sunlight picking up unexpected stains of bright green and small lakes of purple heather.

But she had heard something. Her small craggy little face tightened. She shivered a little and drew her hands up to her cheeks as a strange chill touched her spine. Cold apprehension drew down the corners of her mouth. Then she straightened up abruptly and her hands dropped to her sides. Someone was calling! And they were calling her name. It came drifting gently over the fell now, "Ellesdora! Ellesdora!" She could hear it quite plainly. It was there, all about her. "Ellesdora! Ellesdora!" But who? And where? She turned round and stumbling over the rough grass made her way as quickly as she could to the narrow moorland road again. She looked around again, saw no one, and began to run as fast as she could down the twisting road back to the farm. But it was downhill all the way and steep, and Ellesdora lost her balance and with a cry of alarm she threw out her arms as she hit the cruel stony surface of the road. The shock of the impact and the pain as the grit cut into her hands and knees made her give way to a deluge of tears. Her face was close to the ground and she felt as though she might faint, and even then above the pain, above the panic, she could still hear the soft plaintive calling of, "Ellesdora! Ellesdora!" Then she saw the polished brown hunting boots and a very substantial voice was saying, "Good lord! You again? Whatever are you doing with yourself now?" A wave of sickness surged over her again, but she still managed to whisper, "I should have changed gear, that's all. Good morning, Mr. Turk." He helped her up to her feet and held her hands in concern.

"I'm all right," she whispered, snatching her hands back and hiding them behind her nervously. She was still shaking visibly, her face was white. "It's just my stockings," she faltered, glancing down at her ripped knees. "What a mess!" But immediately she forgot her knees, her painful hands, and in a quick, breathless voice she asked, "Did you see me up there, Mr. Turk? Was it you who was calling my name?" "Your name ?" His brow furrowed. He had forgotten her name, or never even bothered to compute it to memory. The colour flooded back into Ellesdora's face and she twisted with embarrassment. "I thought I heard something up there," she whispered. "I thought I heard someone calling my name." "You probably heard a ewe calling for her lamb," he told her abruptly. "I certainly didn't hear anyone." He glanced down at her hands again and frowned. "You'd better get back to the farmhouse and see to your hands," he told her. "Didn't you hear anything?" she persisted, her wide eyes roaming the moors now. He shook his head. "I heard nothing until you cried out. I was down there by that outcrop of rock. It's one of my observation posts. I was setting up some equipment." Ellesdora winced and raised -her hands to stare at them. She felt sick. "Yes, I must go," she said in a small voice. "I'm driving over to Whickerton at nine. I start work this morning ... and look at me !" "I am looking." Nicholas put out a steadying hand. "And I must say I'm surprised. I had, the notion that nurses were calm, self-

possessed kind of females. You'll have to take yourself in hand, Miss Lorraine. Meanwhile if you'll hang on to me I'll walk you carefully back to Ravenscleugh. You've done nothing but tumble about since you arrived at Havenfield." He gripped her arm as he spoke. "After last night's upset I rather fancied you'd be having a long lie in. I certainly didn't expect to find you laid out up here this morning." He grinned and quirked an eyebrow and, added, "Well, not at such an early hour." "I didn't expect to find you either, Mr. Turk," Ellesdora returned tersely, very conscious of the firm hard fingers gripping her arm. "It's not exactly the time of day for star-gazing, is it?" "Well, at least you know that they come out at night." Ellesdora caught his slanted half mocking, half amused smile. "That's something to begin with. Perhaps I could stimulate an interest. Now tonight there's Orion's Belt. It should be quite magnificent." "I'm not interested," Ellesdora retorted. "I came here to work, not play. All I know about stars is that I was born under a wandering one. And I wouldn't have known that had it not been for the song." "Then you like music?" Ignoring his question, Ellesdora said hurriedly, "There's no need for you to come any further, Mr. Turk. I'll be all right now. I was just shaken up a little." He was not listening. "It's a little early in the year for Sirius... she's the brightest star in the sky. You know, autumn's a most marvellous time for viewing."

Ellesdora was not listening; her hands were hurting badly. She stopped for a moment to draw her breath and look at them with troubled eyes. "Here," he said, "let me wrap something around them. They look awfully painful. And don't take any notice of my ramblings, I'm just a doting old man." He raised his eyebrows and smiled into her eyes for a moment. "But at least I seem to be coming in useful now and again. Now stand still." he frowned authoritatively. He took out a handkerchief and carefully bound up her right hand. "That's the worst one," he said grimly as he stared down at it. "Sorry I haven't got two handkerchiefs. But never mind you'll soon get back." Biting her lip, Ellesdora stared at his bent head; there were tiny flecks of gold at the tips of his dark eyelashes and although his hair was golden his eyebrows were very dark and a little bushy. But it was the strong handsome features that fascinated her, the straight yet broad nose, the breadth of his brow and the strength of his jaw. She drew her eyes quickly away from his mouth and tried to think of something else. "Come now, let's get back." He slid his arm about her waist this time. "If you feel you can't drive, I'm on holiday, I could act as chauffeur for a morning if it would help." "I wouldn't dream of bothering you to such an extent," she said quickly, trying hard to suppress a smile of pleasure. "I'll soon fix myself up." She forced a laugh. "As you say, I'll have to settle down and stop tumbling about." Then the smile faded from her face and lifting her gaze she asked again, "Are you sure you didn't hear anyone calling? I thought I heard someone calling my name. I'm sure I did."

"You hear all sorts of sounds out here," he told her in a friendly tone. "Voices carry, sound gets trapped. You get used to them. But you never get used to the terrain. You just fall in love with it right away. I can never wait to get back to these moors. And when I am away from them, back in London, I only feel half alive." "You seem to get on with the villagers. But then your name isn't Ellesdora." He laughed low in his throat. "I should hope not! My name's Nicholas and I'd be pleased if you'd use it. It seems that we're always going to be stumbling into each other. As for the villagers—well, they don't trouble me and I don't trouble them. They're nice enough folk. But you mustn't try to change them." "You think they live in a fool's paradise?" "I didn't say that." His voice was sharp again. "They have their own ideas about things, that's all. They've been cut off from the affluent society, but somehow I don't think that has done them any harm. I like the village folk. And I like Burnside House. You must visit it some time. I'm thinking of building an observatory in the back garden. It's just the place ... I'd thought of an eight and a half inch reflector." He was away again. Ellesdora gave him a swift glance and saw the preoccupied look in his green eyes, the dedication on his face. As they walked she wondered about the tall stranger at her side. Had he a genuine affection for the country girl Rebecca? Or did he just take her like a tonic and think nothing of it? Some dedicated men thought nothing much of women. Did he just want to paint the girl, exploit her strange charm? She glanced at him again and decided that she would never know. Staring away like that the man was a positive enigma.

They reached the fenced-in small back field where Mr. Willis kept his tups and Ellesdora stopped and said, "I'll cut down this way, Mr. Turk. And thank you very much." She raised her hand. "I'll return the handkerchief." The sunlight caught his face and hair and staring at him, Ellesdora felt a wave of inadequacy. He kept on smiling and she wondered if he knew and was laughing at her. Then without warning she found herself lifted high and set down on the other side of the fence. "That should help," he said. Then his eyes narrowed and his expression changed and he said something she could not catch under his breath. Looking round swiftly, Ellesdora followed his line of vision and saw that it was Rebecca he was watching coming up over the field, flying this way and that at the tups as she came, and evidently in a bad temper. "I must go," Ellesdora whispered. "I think Rebecca's looking for me." "Or me," she thought she heard him mutter, and glanced back, but then thought she had been wrong and hurried on again. In the middle of the sloping field Ellesdora met Rebecca and they both stopped, panting, facing each other. The girl's face was white, her pale blue eyes glared angrily. "Stay away from Nicholas," she hissed. "It'll save you a lot of trouble!" Ellesdora held the girl's glaring eyes. Then she laughed disdainfully. "If it's the kind of trouble you mean, I'm not afraid of it," she returned haughtily, because the girl's attitude suddenly got

on her nerves. "I'd advise you to keep out of my way, Rebecca Willis. I've told you I'm not here either to be interrogated or to account for my actions." "The phone's been ringing for you," Rebecca said in a more surly voice. "Ma said you shouldn't have gone off." Exasperated, Ellesdora glared back at the girl. "Can't you see that I've had an accident ?" she snapped back. "Look at my hands !" The girl's face went bright red. "That's Nicholas's handkerchief," she accused. "I suppose you got him to bandage your hand." Her thin breast heaved in agitation. "I've told you," she said, and she spat the words out like venom, "Nicholas Turk belongs to me. And I belong to him ... if you know what that means !" Ellesdora got the message and with a straight face walked away. Something contracted in her throat and for some reason she felt quite shocked. Some of the girls she knew in town quite openly lived with their boy-friends.... But Nicholas Turk! She drew a deep breath and then looked back. Rebecca was running up the slope like a hill hare, her long lithe legs quickly covering the ground, her fawn hair streaming out behind her. She ran like a child with arms outstretched and Nicholas Turk caught her like one, laughing merrily into her face, turning her round and around. Watching this happy greeting, Ellesdora felt herself being plunged into gloom. Never had her nerves been so on edge,- never had she felt so tormented. And she knew—she was jealous. She was more than attracted; she was falling in love with the man. She ran on furiously down the field to the house. How could she be such a fool? She'd never been bothered by men or boys before. And to be so attracted to this man ... a man she had only just met and one who was obviously entangled with another girl... it was

plain madness. The thing to do, she told herself savagely, was to stop thinking about him and to get on with her work. And with half a smile she reminded herself that she hadn't met the doctor yet.

Whickerton was ten miles away over hill and dale, and as Ellesdora drove along the winding narrow tracks she was more conscious of the loneliness of the sweeping fells and distant hills than of their beauty. She appreciated the country, she told herself, but she'd made up her mind that she wasn't going to be buried in it. Because her spirits were low she began to think of the sudden death, the strife and disorder, the treachery and the feuds which had existed in the Border hills. In her imagination, she saw terrible things, heard terrible cries... and then the road sheered down into the flat bottom of the valley and the small town of Whickerton loomed up. Ellesdora brightened and began to wonder what the doctor would be like. A nice old cuddly G.P., she expected, and laughed at her own thoughts. She followed the road along by the river for a few miles, then she saw the notice to Scarlet House and turned the car sharply up on to a red gravel drive. The doctor's house was made of red brick and was very modern with wide windows, a green slate roof and a veranda overlooking the sloping gardens still profuse with colour and autumn flowers. A blonde head bobbed about in one of the windows and at once Ellesdora's spirits rose. This was far from the grim Havenfield! And who was the blonde ? Very interested, she parked the car and quickly made her way up to the house. The side entrance seemed the most convenient and the door was open, so she knocked on the door and almost immediately the blonde appeared.

"Hello, Nurse," the tall, good-looking blonde greeted Ellesdora. "Come in. Are we pleased to see you!" She laughed goodnaturedly and led Ellesdora to a bright, well-equipped kitchen. "Sit down," she said before Ellesdora could speak. "Will you have a cup of tea?" Ellesdora nodded and sat down on a very modern chair with a bright orange and green cover. "I'd love one," she said rather shyly. "And I love your kitchen too. It's really colourful. And what a gorgeous little bar!" "It's handy," the blonde agreed. "Frank.. . Doctor Fairless and I often have a snack here." "I'm Nurse Lorraine," Ellesdora introduced herself, and standing up again she held out her hand. "I'm Mrs. Nicholson," the girl returned with a pleased smile. "I'm general dogsbody around here." She ran her large brown eyes quickly over Ellesdora. "I hope you'll be happy with us," she went on chirpily. "Good luck, anyhow." "Do you live in, Mrs. Nicholson ?" It passed through Ellesdora's mind that Mrs- Nicholson was very glamorous and that she would be no more than thirty. "Oh, yes," the girl replied. "I've lived in for over three years now ... since my husband died." "Oh, dear ... I'm sorry." "Doctor Fairless has been very good to me." Mrs. Nicholson lowered her voice and her very long lashes. "I've never regretted coming here."

Ellesdora peered over the rim of her cup. "He sounds nice," she said in a small voice, somehow not wanting to intrude on the girl's wistful train of thought, and once again a vision of a nice kindly, middle-aged man rose up to comfort her. "He is," Mrs. Nicholson said in her perky voice again. "And speak of the devil," she laughed, "here is his lordship, and he'll be wanting his breakfast." Before Mrs. Nicholson could reach the door Doctor Frank Fairless had swept in. With a look of amazement on her face, Ellesdora stood up and blushed as she met his dark penetrating eyes—and blushed even deeper as the elegant doctor raked her over with almost impudent eyes. So, she thought, he's a lady's man. Doctor Fairless certainly appreciated women. It was there in his eyes. And he was vain, she could see that too. Very conceited. He was wearing a dark silk robe, a silk necktie and beautiful leather slippers. "So," he said, gesturing to Ellesdora to sit down again, "you're our new nurse. Nurse Lorraine, isn't it? Well, I hope you'll be happy with us, Nurse." His eyes swept over Ellesdora and his lips stirred into a taunting smile. "Our last district nurse was with us for ten years ... but I'll not wish you that misfortune, however conscientious you may be." Ellesdora did not know it, but her upturned face was young and soft, apprehensive and. very anxious to please. "Good," he said, and swung back the door. "I'll have a word with my secretary.... If you'll excuse me." He turned and nodded and then disappeared. Ellesdora, left alone, decided that she did not particularly like Frank Fairless. She recognized the fact that the man had some kind

of sexual magnetism, but she herself was not moved by him in the least. His face was too long, too pallid, his mouth too wide and thin and his dark eyes set just a little too obliquely. She didn't care for bearded men and he had a small goatee. He looks more like an actor, she thought with amusement, and wondered what the villagers thought of their doctor. Waiting nervously for the doctor to return, Ellesdora found herself comparing him with Nicholas Turk. She closed her eyes for a moment. If only Nicholas would stop intruding on her thoughts... if only she could stop seeing him there in her mind's eye ! "Sorry to leave you, Nurse," The doctor was back again. "I've spoken to my secretary. She'll go over the list with you." He glanced at his watch. "We'll talk another time. I'm rather behind with my calls this morning." Ellesdora stood up once more. She was embarrassed by his probing eyes. "Through there," he gestured to another door. "In the office. Mrs. Nicholson is waiting for you." "Thank you, Doctor." "If there's anything you're worried about don't hesitate to ring me." "There was one thing, Doctor Fairless." Ellesdora hesitated and turned back. "I'm not sure that I'll be staying. I didn't expect Havenfield to be such a remote, place. I'm a city girl...." "It's not a place for riotous living, if that's what you're after." His words were sharp, but his eyes were full of amusement. "If you're the nervous type why did you apply for the post? You could be called out at any hour, you must realise that."

"I know.. .. It's not that," Ellesdora wavered. "Then what is it, Nurse?" There was a note of professional brusqueness in his tone and impatiently he glanced at his watch. "I'll be all right," she said, suddenly anxious to get away. "I haven't really given myself a chance. I only got here last night." "Of course, I understand." He was smiling again and he crossed the room and cupped Ellesdora's elbow with his hand. "Don't worry, 'Nurse. If you have any problems, you come and tell me about them. I'm sure we're going to get on well together." "Thanks," she flung back with a sudden provocativeness brought on by impatience and a hint of temper. Staring at her, Frank Fairless thought he had never felt so unnerved, nor had he ever seen such large yellow eyes. And he smiled to himself, rather slyly. Ellesdora drove back with a pleased little smile hovering about her mouth. Doctor Fairless was a flirt. So what! At least there'd been no disinterest or aloofness there; those dark eyes had missed nothing. Somehow the idea made Ellesdora fee! better. The dark little settlement to which she was returning no longer filled her with foreboding. Sweet normality, whatever happened at Havenfield, lay not very far away, just over the hill. And she liked the doctor's secretary-cum- housekeeper too. The woman had made her promise to give her a ring now and again. "We must be friends," Mrs. Nicholson had pressed. "And make it Jean . .. not Mrs. Nicholson." Slowing down by a small plantation near the river, Ellesdora admired the trees, a golden haze of larch set off the deep-blue green pine, then she drove sharply right, over a bridge and in

second gear made her way steadily up a very steep hill. Again the whole range of moors was before her, sheep country, a country of bracken, heather and with a backcloth of hills rolling away and gaining momentum on the skyline. She saw a red flag flying and heard a few sharp retorts, deep rumblings, and she realized that there was shooting going on, Army practice somewhere, and with a little pang of alarm she began to drive faster. The first patient on her list was a man called Isaac Featherstone and he lived just outside Havenfield, in a tin shack with a red roof, and when Ellesdora found him bashing his frying pan on the outside wall and wiping it out with a handful of grass, she could only stare at (the old man in horror. He looked a positive rascal and he obviously had no idea of hygiene. She followed him into the house and caught her breath; the cat was sitting on the table with its tail in the butter and one paw over a loaf of bread. Aghast, she stared at the old man. "Go on, hop it!" he shouted at the cat, conscious at least of the distaste in Ellesdora's wide eyes. "It's good of you to call," he said gruffly. "I suppose you're the new'n." "Yes, I'm Nurse Lorraine," Ellesdora said as cheerfully as she could. "I've come to take the stitches out of your hand, Mr. Featherstone. It should be all right now." "Oh, you shouldn't have bothered, woman. I could have taken them out with my teeth." "Then I'm very glad I did bother." Ellesdora undid the bandage quickly and as she worked the old man never stopped grinning at her. "Like a bit of salmon?" he asked gleefully, as she fastened up a new waterproof dressing.

"No, thank you, Mr. Featherstone. But do take it easy with this hand. I've left one stitch in. The wound's not quite healed." "What about a bit of sausage, then?" As he spoke he moved away and opened a door and Ellesdora caught a glimpse of a mound of sausage two feet high. "It's fresh enough," he chortled. "It should be. Old Perce just died on Monday." "Old Perce?" "Ay ... old Percy the pig. He was a fine lad." Ellesdora took a dive for the door, where she was almost knocked down by a dirty white mongrel. "Come in, me old pal," she heard Isaac Featherstone welcome the dog, but she did not look back. But she had not reached the car before she heard a great roar of rage behind her. The mongrel was tearing ahead, a mile of sausages trailing after him. Thank God, Ellesdora thought as she drove away, I won't have to go back there for at least a week! Five minutes later the village came into sight and as she drove slowly around the green she laughed at her own fears and ridiculous imagination. The silver birch was even more beautiful in the strong morning sunlight... but nevertheless just a tree, a tree beneath which a few white geese sat and preened themselves. It was strange, she thought, how the moonlight and a few chance remarks had made such a fool of her. She drove by the church and churchyard and reached the cottages. It was Harriet Scandel she had to call upon, and she remembered that Harriet was the strange woman she had seen in the Black Raven the night before; the woman with the cat called Sammy.

Yes, it was the same woman; she'd seen her coming, she was standing in the doorway. "Good morning," Ellesdora called as she strode down the garden path. "How are you this morning, Miss Scandel?" "I'm all right." Harriet turned and hurried back into her house. "I'm Nurse Lorraine," Ellesdora called, following her, thinking what bad manners they all had. "Doctor Fairless asked me to call. I'd like to take your blood pressure. And I've brought you some more tablets." The cottage kitchen was small but cosily filled with old-fashioned furniture and trinkets of every nature. But Ellesdora's eyes went straight to the thick rug that lay in front of the fire and upon which a small black cat sat propped up against a high brass fender. "That's my little Sammy," Harriet said, following Ellesdora's gaze. "Isn't he beautiful?" Bending down, she straightened the cat up and cooed, "Now don't you go toppling over again Sammy." But before Harriet could straighten up herself Sammy had fallen on his head again and Ellesdora, staring hard at the little creature felt a pang of alarm. It was a very pretty cat, all black and with enormous eyes and an exquisitely lovely little kitten face. But it was ill—very ill! Studying it, Ellesdora's face puckered. The cat was a cerebral case; it had no control whatever over its movements. "Has the vet seen your cat?" she asked warily. "Sammy doesn't need a vet." The woman's voice was sharp now and she stood in front of the little creature as though to guard it

now. "I'll look after Sammy. He just needs feeding up a little. He'll soon get more strength." Ellesdora moved aside and stared hard at the cat, and again Harriet moved in front of it as though to guard him. Then she said, "You didn't come to see the cat, did you?" "Of course not. I came to see you." Ellesdora forced a smile. "If you'll just take your cardigan off." "You left the Raven early, didn't you?" Harriet said, after she had been told that her blood pressure was normal enough. "We saw you go." Ellesdora was thinking about the pathetic little creature on the hearthrug. "What a lovely little cat he is," she enthused. "Let me look at him again. Can I pick him up?" "No!" Harriet was adamant. "Let him be." Again she stood between Ellesdora and her pet. "Well, I must be going," Ellesdora said with some embarrassment. "I'll call again, Miss Scandel. I've put your tablets on the table." "Thank you, Nurse." Harriet moved towards the door and then paused and looked directly back at Ellesdora. "You'd best worry about that other cat," she said with a chuckle. "Rebecca will soon find out that you and Mr. Turk are taken up with each other. And she'll not like that. She's going strong with him." Ellesdora brushed by the woman and made her way quickly to the car. The moment anyone mentioned Nicholas Turk she could feel herself tensing up. 'Taken up with each other!' What had made the woman think that? She felt herself turn bright red because she had caught Harriet still watching her from behind the curtains.

Then she heard someone calling and looking round she gave a little gasp of surprise. Nicholas Turk was striding towards her, his eyes glinting to turquoise in the strong sunlight. At once her heart was hammering and with a strange rebellious feeling she struggled with 'the car door.

CHAPTER FOUR "HELLO there," Nicholas Turk said in a deep, amused voice. "How are you managing with those sore little paws?" He opened the car door for Ellesdora and stood leaning over it, watching her get in. An aggression she did not intend widened her eyes and she stared up at him. He was wearing a short mink-coloured overcoat and a woollen tan scarf and his hair was ruffled a little. "Have you seen that woman's cat ? " she asked, shakily. "Of course." He smiled down at her outraged little face. "Everyone's seen it." "Everyone but the vet," Ellesdora retaliated. "That cat should have been put to sleep !" "Have you finished work for this morning?" he asked, tactfully changing the subject. "Yes, I'm going back for lunch." "Pity. I thought you might like a quick run out to Harewood with me. The forest's wonderful'; you should see it." "I'd like to, but I really haven't time. I've got some notes to write up. I must get organised." "You've got over last night's little nightmare, then? And this morning's tumble ?" She smiled up at him and reached for the door, nodded.

"What about having your supper with me tonight, then ?" Ellesdora did not answer, so he went on, "If you don't want to drive out again I'll come up for you." Her eyes flashed. "Come up to Ravenscleugh for me?" "Why not?" Her shoulders heaved. "I don't think Rebecca would like that," she said on a breath. "It would have nothing to do with Rebecca." He laughed and his golden head, went back a little. "Rebecca trots down to Burnside House often enough." His eyes glinted. "She's a damned charming child, but I'm entitled to a change." "Are you?" Staring at him, Ellesdora wondered just what kind of a man Nicholas Turk really was. Did the man not realise what he was doing to Rebecca Willis? Or was male passion so divorced from understanding? Or was he really in love with a girl who could neither speak his language nor understand his thoughts? Her eyes were grave and she turned them away and with a flurry of something like rebellion she turned on the ignition. Or was she jealous ? "You'll come, then?" He pushed the door forward a little and peered over the top of it. "You'll do me good, Nurse." "So you think I'm therapeutic?" Ellesdora's lips quivered with amusement. "I'd got the idea that you wanted me to see your paintings." She raised her eyes to his. "Still, if you think I'm a therapeutic I'll have to come."

"Good! About eight?" She nodded. "But don't come for me. I'll drive down myself. I don't want anyone accusing me of owl-eyeing you." "There's no fear of that," his words shot back, and he slammed the door shut and stood back. Although he was still smiling, Ellesdora felt the elation within her die a sudden death. Why had he said that, and so rudely? As she drove away she wished she had never accepted his invitation. Had he meant that she hadn't to get the wrong idea? Surely not! Her cheeks burned with indignation. They were still burning when she reached the farmhouse. It was one o'clock and she could hear Rebecca in the kitchen shouting at her brother. "I've told you not to drink that orange juice, Percy! It's vitamins." "Well, do I not need them?" Percy yelled back. "What you need is your hair cut," Mrs. Willis's voice rose above the others. "Do you want the baler to do the job for you? I've told you before, it's dangerous!" Ellesdora heaved a sigh and pushed open the kitchen door. "Oh, there you are, Nurse," Mrs. Willis said, swinging round. "Your dinner's ready. I'll set it out." She set a dish down and hurried to the stove. "Did you have a good morning?" she asked. "Did you see the doctor?" "Oh, yes, he's very nice." Ellesdora sat down at the table.

Percy drained his glass and set it down on the dresser. His eyes, catching Ellesdora's, were merrily mocking. "So you liked the doctor," he said. "They tell me he's a bit of a lady's man." "He seemed all right," Ellesdora returned lightly. "I called on Harriet Scandel this morning, and Isaac Featherstone." She laughed a little. "Isaac's certainly a character!" "Not exactly your sort, eh?" Percy grinned. "I wonder when old Isaac last saw soap and water." "He's worth a mint," Mrs. Willis put in, her eyes suddenly shrewd. "They say he carries money about with him too, the foolish old man." "He's a bigger liar than Tom Pepper," Percy carried on. "Still, he's not a bad old chap. And he did us a good turn that year of the storm. Remember that hay we got from him? It was good stuff and he could have got more for it." "He's worth a mint," Mrs. Willis repeated as though the thought had got stuck in her mind. "Worth a mint." "Would you like to marry me off to him, then, Ma?" Rebecca put in saucily. "We might be able to buy a farm for Percy then." "Don't you be so impertinent, my girl." Mrs. Willis glared at her daughter. "With that tongue you'll be lucky if you ever find a husband." Rebecca caught Ellesdora's eyes and held them with her own sly ones. "I'll get a husband all right," she said in a lowered, mocking voice. "And sooner than you think."

So it had gone as far as that! Rebecca quite expected to marry Nicholas Turk. Once again Ellesdora felt colour rush to her face; again she was seized by a tormenting resentment. Painfully she stared down at the apple pie and cream that had been set before her, but her appetite had gone. That was what he had meant; she hadn't to get ideas because of his relationship with Rebecca. When Ellesdora looked up again she saw that there was only herself left in the room and she could hear Percy calling to his father outside in the passage. "Ma's gone to the pantry for some more tea," Rebecca said sullenly. "Oh, good. I'd like a cup of tea." Ellesdora found herself avoiding the girl's eyes. But she had listened to what she was saying. "Did Ma tell you about the last Ellesdora that lived at Havenfield?" Rebecca asked, and her eyes were sly again. "No, she did not," Ellesdora returned quickly, for she knew what was coming. "She was a witch," Rebecca spat out. "And what's more, she was burned in the middle of the green. I tell you, Ma got quite a turn when you said your name was Ellesdora. But she's superstitious. She'll have her eye on you for ever more." As she spoke Rebecca dragged a chair out and sat down at the table opposite to Ellesdora. "Ma's more than superstitious," she went on maliciously. "She's funny. . . she gets premonitions. All her family were a bit fey." "I don't think I'll bother to wait for the tea," Ellesdora began impatiently, but Rebecca leant over and laid a detaining thin cold hand on her arm.

"She's making it," she said, and there was a strange smile on her face. "You'll have to have it. I wouldn't upset her if I was you." Ellesdora sat back. "All right," she said. "But I haven't much time. I've got a number of calls this afternoon." "Would you like to know more about the other Ellesdora?" "Not particularly. I'm more interested in the present and the future ... not old wives' tales." "This is no tale," Rebecca said tightly. "It's all recorded. Go to the church and you can read about Ellesdora. She lived here in Havenfield and she was a witch." The girl's voice rose excitedly and a strange radiance lit her face. "And do you know why she was burnt? It was because she put a witch's spell on a young girl's lover. She tried to steal him away." "She didn't get very far, did she?" Ellesdora stood up to face the girl who had now risen to her feet. "They obviously made it pretty hot for her." "Oh, you can laugh!" Rebecca stood stricken now, her face white with some kind of inward frustration, voice rose shrilly, uncontrolled. "You can laugh and laugh and laugh... you don't fool me. You don't fool my mother either." Ellesdora hurried out of the room. The girl was ill; she needed a sedative; she would speak to the doctor. And she was trembling herself. With relief she drank in the cool clear air and hurried across the yard to her car. Then she saw that Percy Willis was there, hovering beside it. "I think you had better go in and calm your sister down," Ellesdora said hotly. "She's really worked up."

"About what?" Percy's eyes raked mischievously over Ellesdora. "Go and ask her," she said sharply. "And if you'll excuse me...." But Percy stood in her way and she could not reach the car door. "What about coming out with me tonight? I'll show you the scene." His eyes glinted. "We don't need to go to the Black Raven." "I'm sorry, I can't. I've already got a date." Percy frowned, pushed, forward his lips. "Oh, I see," he mumbled. "So you've had a look round already." "If you don't mind, Percy, I'd like to get into my car. I'm late." "Tomorrow, then? I could get the afternoon off. We could go off soon to Newcastle. The old man's going to a mart." "We'll see. I'll let you know." At last Ellesdora was able to get into the car and dourly, Percy Willis watched her drive away. The afternoon passed quickly and Ellesdora found most of her new patients very pleasant and helpful. Others were a little suspicious and on guard, but she was determined to work hard and gain their confidence. She felt apprehensive about her visit to Burnside House that evening but nevertheless a little excited too. And she was determined to look very with it even if she was to remain in the backwoods. So at half past seven Ellesdora studied herself in the long, mottled wardrobe mirror and decided that she looked quite good. She was wearing a mulberry- coloured midi skirt with a matching wide

suede belt and a pale pink blouse with enormous sleeves and tight slim cuffs. Her hair had been brushed back in her favourite Bronte style and her eyes shadowed and coloured expertly. She knew she looked right because the moment she entered the kitchen Mrs. Willis fell back a yard and glared at her. "I may be a little late back," Ellesdora told the woman who stood like a statue, "but don't worry about me." And because she suddenly felt light-hearted and gay she had to add, "If my car breaks down I'll get back by broomstick. There'll be one standing about somewhere!" At the gate, Ellesdora glanced back at the house and smiled to herself. The thin figure of Rebecca was silhouetted in the window. But as she drove on the smile slowly left her face and her eyes grew grave again. She did have a conscience; she wouldn't really try to steal anyone's lover away... not even if she herself was attracted to him? She thought about the night she had seen Rebecca and Nicholas together, close together on the fell, and her face twisted and her eyes grew troubled. Mr. Turk either saw no potential danger to his established love-life in asking her to Burnside House, which was a kind of insult in itself, or was he a gay philanderer, unfaithful to Rebecca and every other girl? She didn't think so. But, she thought, setting her mouth, she'd soon find out. As Nicholas had directed she passed the crossroads, drove on down the hill, and saw the house. It was a large Victorian-looking house with long plain windows and a garden fenced off with short white iron railings. It looked very substantial, Ellesdora thought, as she parked her car, then made her way quickly up the garden path to the large and, very impressive front door.

It opened before she could reach it and Nicholas stood framed in the doorway, and with a pang Ellesdora saw that he was wearing a very sophisticated soft oatmeal suit and a cream silk shirt set off by a dark cream paisley tie. The light behind him picked up his sculptured head of thickly waving gold hair and he stood straight and tall and looked magnificent. Ellesdora suddenly felt very shy. "I'm not your only guest, then ?" she said, smiling up at him. "Of course you are. Whatever gave you the idea that I was having a party?" He laughed at her and with a friendly gesture led her forward into the large panelled hall. "Welcome to Burnside House," he said as he waited to take her coat. "I'm very glad you came, Ellesdora." She flinched and flushed. It was the first time he Had called her by her Christian name. He took her elbow and steered her away towards a door that led off from the square hall. "You have a beautiful name," he said gently. "You won't mind if I use it?" She shook her head and smiled. "In here," he said. "This is my den. It's a small sitting room really, but I use it as a kind of working room. My studio is upstairs." Ellesdora looked around the small room and drew a quick breath; her eyes twinkled. It looked like a magician's den. A huge fire burned steadily in the large grate with its magnificent surround and two very elegant leather chairs had been drawn up to it. The curtains were luxurious, the carpet was luxurious. But the mess! Untidy bookshelves lined three of the walls and propped against

the other were piles of magazines, manuscripts, telescopes, stands of every size and two large globes. She wanted to laugh, but she glanced at Nicholas and saw that his profile was quite serious, so she said, "It certainly looks cosy. And what a lot of work you must do." "Will you have a drink, Ellesdora?" With a fast beating heart, because he said 'Ellesdora' so wonderfully, she watched him stride off to a small carved, cabinet close to the enormous windows. "Sit down," he called back over his shoulder. "I'll show you the rest of the house later. It's rather a ramshackle bachelor affair. .. but it's my country retreat and I love it." "It seems to be very large," she began, looking round again. "What am I thinking about?" Nicholas went on. "You don't drink, do you?" He turned round to raise his eyebrows in enquiry. "Then what about a nice cool orange? You must drink something, Ellesdora. I'm in a whisky and cigar mood. I feel like relaxing, and you must do the same. You've had a long hard day." "I'd like an orange," she confessed meekly, wishing she'd been an alcoholic. "With ice, please." He returned with the drinks and they settled in their chairs by the fire. "Tell me about yourself," he said, raising his small glass. "Yes, you tell me all about yourself, Ellesdora." Trying hard to feel at ease, Ellesdora said nervously, "I'd much rather hear about your paintings, Mr. Turk." She glanced up. "Have you finished Rebecca's portrait?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hmmm, I'll not finish it this vacation," he told her, and chuckled meaningfully. "There's no hurry. It gives Rebecca an excuse to get out of the house." His expression suddenly sobered and thoughtfully now he stared into the fire. "I'm rather hoping that you two girls will be friends," he said in a remote voice. "Rebecca really is a dear, sweet child." Ellesdora felt a prick of annoyance. She flushed, but made no comment. "Yes," he went on as he stretched out his long legs and drew on his cigar with a leisurely elegance. "Rebecca needs someone like you, Ellesdora. Someone young and sane. Someone with their feet firmly on the ground." He laughed softly to himself. "I'd like to take her to London...." "Then why don't you?" He smiled into his whisky glass. "Because Rebecca's so untamed, so wild and passionate. She belongs to this place. I feel it would be almost cruel to uproot her." "Then you stay." He looked up sharply and with eyes full of astonishment, then stood up. "What about you, Ellesdora?" he asked abruptly, changing the subject. "Are you going to stay at Havenfield? Or will the natives be too much for you?" He glanced down at her and looking up she saw that in the firelight his eyes were now the colour of mint and very thoughtful. "I'd like you to stay," he told her directly. "And what's more I think you will." His bronzed skin crinkled a little and he teased, "Let's say I read it in the stars." "I'm not running away yet," she told him, forcing a brightness she did not feel. She watched him stride away to the wide window and

stare out at the night sky now splintered with stars. The shape of his head and the broad back of his neck stirred some emotion within her and she stood up restlessly and asked, "May I look at your books? I'd like to know the signs of the stars. After all, I'm supposed to read omens and cast spells." He sprang round, his eyebrows up, chin drawn in. "Then I'd better watch out," he laughed across the room at her. "You do sound like a witch," he said, and swept his eyes over Ellesdora enquiringly as he moved back into the room. "And what's more, you distinctly make me feel like some kind of ogre." He reached out and pressed her arm. "Sometimes I catch you looking at me as though you didn't altogether trust me. "Why should I trust you?" Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. The pressure on her arm increased. "You must trust me," he said impatiently. "Rest assured, I invited you to Burnside House to see my paintings and to have something to eat with me. I had nothing else in mind. I hope you understand that." He laughed suddenly, harshly. "I'm afraid I don't exactly take advantage of my bachelorhood." "I came because I was hungry and there was- nothing else to do," Ellesdora told him. "I hope I'm not wasting my time either." Their eyes met and they laughed. "I am hungry," she insisted. "Then we understand each other?"

She nodded. "I know when a man's booked," she retorted, craftily. And because he had frowned so deeply again she turned away. "Mrs. Moffat left everything prepared," he told her as he went towards the door. "I'm afraid it won't be anything exotic, so it's just as well you're so hungry." "Mrs. Moffat?" "She lives in the village and she comes in once or twice a week. Without her I wouldn't even be respectable." He nodded towards the door. "We'll eat in the dining room, so if you'll come this way.. .." The dining room was a very different place. Nicholas pushed open the door and Ellesdora suppressed a gasp of surprise and delight. The room was elegant, painted in soft pastel shades and well lit up. There were both English and French pieces of furniture of exquisite workmanship and Ellesdora fell in love with the enormous sofa covered with bright jade silk. There was a large Adam fireplace over which hung a very old oil painting and long tangerine velvet curtains hung to the soft green carpet. "Did you paint that?" she asked, turning to the painting again. Moving closer, she stared hard at it and a curious light came into her eyes. "I seem to know the place," she whispered. "You should," he said, coming to stand behind her. "It's the village. Havenfield as I imagine it was a few hundred years ago. The cottages were just the same, but thatched. There's the pele tower and the church ... the old water pump." "And the tree! The silver birch on the green!" Ellesdora felt something cold touch her spine and with a shudder she turned away. "There's something very familiar about it all," she

whispered, and her voice was touched with awe. But then she saw the table set for their meal and forgot the picture as her eyes bright- fined with pleasure. "Mrs. Moffat, whoever she is, has done well," she said, smiling down at the beautifully laid table. Then her thoughts went back to the painting and hardly knowing what she was saying she murmured, "You forgot the old sheep stall, Nicholas. There was one, you know ... at the end of the green, near the pump." "Now how could you possibly know that?" he exclaimed, and his eyebrows shot up. Frowning, he pulled out a chair. But she did know! And the knowledge brought a lump to her throat. She knew about the water pump; staring up at the painting she had almost heard the old gurgle, the lap of the water over the ancient stone tank. And what was worse, her eyes had strayed to one cottage ... one particular cottage. She bit her lip as she stared down at the table. She felt breathless; excited and terrified— Terrified of her own thoughts. "If you'll excuse me a moment," Nicholas said, and moved to the door, "I'll get the coffee pot and then we won't have to move again. Perhaps you'd like to help yourself to the chicken casserole." "Oh, yes." Hardly knowing what she was doing, Ellesdora lifted the lid from a steaming hot dish—and almost at once it clattered on to the crisp white tablecloth. She went taut with fright. She had seen someone looking in at the window from outside. And it had been Rebecca! Just for one second she had caught the sight of the girl's livid thin face. Trembling, she quickly tiptoed across the room to the window and again she caught sight of the girl's wild eyes, the face ravaged by jealousy. Then Rebecca was

gone and there were only the stars and the black vast universe behind them. But Ellesdora knew that Rebecca was out there, lurking behind some inky bush in the garden, and now her face burned with fury. She wasn't going to have anyone spying on her! And why did the girl have to spy? If there was some kind of special relationship between herself and Nicholas, why didn't Rebecca just walk into the house ... break up the party? "Here we are," said Nicholas, returning with a small tray on which stood a large coffee pot. He met her eyes and asked, "Is something wrong? Are you cold? Would you like me to draw the curtains." "No, no. I thought I heard someone out there, but I must have been mistaken. I can't get used to these strange country noises." Ellesdora sat down and with a trembling hand began to serve out the chicken. "You didn't ask Rebecca down tonight, did you?" she said with an assumed flippancy. "I thought you might." "Good lord, no!" He smiled across the table. "I don't often get the chance to entertain a charming young lady." "Rebecca's a charming young lady, isn't she?" She felt that she was probing, but she could not stop herself. He sat back, spread out a napkin which he eyed with amused appraisal. "Mrs. Moffat's been digging deep," he laughed. "All the trimmings tonight." He met Ellesdora's eyes. "Rebecca's different," he said, and his eyes sobered. "She certainly is," Ellesdora agreed. "I think the girl has some of her mother's traits."

"Naturally." She glared at him, suddenly no longer hungry and again wishing she had not come to Burnside House. She could not speak. He raised his glass. "Will you have another orange?" he asked, concern in his eyes. "No, I'm not hungry now," she returned rather childishly. "It's the thought of Mrs. Willis. She puts me off. She's ruined my appetite with all her talk about witches. Fancy thinking I'm a witch just because my name happens to be Ellesdora ... it's out of this world! Across the table she met his green eyes, defiantly. "And so is her daughter," she said through tight lips. "There you go again!" He sat back and laughed at her agitation. "So what do you propose to do? Burn yourself on some convenient bonfire? I've told you, Ellesdora, you must not allow yourself to be intimidated." Carried away now, Ellesdora burst out, "That Scandel woman! She gave me a strange look too. I wouldn't be surprised if she belongs to some coven." She laughed a little brokenly. "She didn't even think I was fit to look at her cat!" "She's a lonely woman." She met his eyes again. "Who isn't?" she snapped back. He frowned. "Are you lonely, Ellesdora?" Ignoring this enquiry, she burst out again, "She shouldn't have a cat like that. The vet should have put it to sleep. It's obviously got some cerebral trouble."

Nicholas sighed deeply. "I've never heard such nonsense," he said, and shook his head sadly. "I must be crazy too. I took you for an intelligent girl. I was looking forward to our evening together." "I'm sorry." Ellesdora did her best to stem the strange thoughts that drifted through her brain. She even laughed. "I do get carried away, don't I?" she said in an apologetic tone. "You do," he returned gently, "but forget everything else for the moment and enjoy Mrs. Moffat's effort. She really is a good cook. Pity I couldn't stand a woman constantly about the place." "Couldn't you?" She raised teasing eyes. "Well, not the Mrs. Moffat brand," he returned with a grin. "But she really is a very pleasant woman." "Doesn't Rebecca cook something for you now and again ?" "Good heavens, no," he shot back. "What would she do that for? Besides, she's got enough to do at the farm. The poor girl works far too hard. There's not a picking on her." As he spoke he flushed under his tan as though he was thinking of Rebecca in some Intimate way and Ellesdora watched him closely, got up and said in a strained voice, "If you don't mind I'll have my coffee by the fire. And I must look at your painting of Havenfield again." Crossing the room, Ellesdora once again stared up at the large oil painting above the fireplace, but this time her mind was not on the picture. She stood with strained ears trying to catch any sound that came from outside. Rebecca was still skulking outside, watching her every move. "Would you like me to draw the curtains?" Nicholas called as he got up from the table and carried both coffee cups to the small

table by the fire. "Personally I hate to shut out the night sky. To me it seems like sacrilege." "Leave them," Ellesdora returned swiftly. "I like to look at >the stars, although I know nothing whatever about them." "Then I must teach you." "I never have time." "Nonsense! We all have time to dream a little." One side of Ellesdora's mouth curved up. "Do you think so?" she returned dryly. "I'm quite sure you didn't dream this up." She turned to look up at the painting again. "You're quite right," he said, crossing the room to her. "I did quite a bit of research before I put a stroke on that canvas. Actually I found an old painting of Havenfield in the Black Raven,..." He tapped his foot on the floor and narrowed his eyes as he studied the picture. "It's authentic all right." "I'm sure it is," Ellesdora agreed, and turned away and sat down on one of the easy chairs. "That's why it gives me the shivers." "The shivers? You are a strange girl." "Don't say that." She raised pleading eyes. "Don't tell me I'm strange." She took a deep breath. "I'll begin to believe it." Her voice shook. "Really I will." "My dear girl!" "Don't worry about me," she said, reaching for her coffee with a trembling hand. "And I do think your painting is wonderful. It's

just that...." She felt herself going hot and she smoothed her hair back from her brow in a gesture of agitation. He stood looking down at her and his eyes were full of concern ashe spoke. "What is it that you find so frightening about Havenfield?" he asked her, straight to the point. "I don't like to think of you being so scared ... so upset, Ellesdora. Is there anything I can do? How can I allay these ridiculous fears?" Ellesdora looked up at him and caught her breath. There was genuine concern in his wonderful eyes. One deep wave of his hair had fallen a little over his brow. Her heart hammered shamefully and she knew that if it should take witchery to lure Nicholas Turk away from Rebecca she would use it. She wanted to bewitch him, cast a spell over him; she wanted him to love her. As this realization grew and took shape the thoughts in her brain seemed to grow louder and louder, like fantastic chirpings in a dark forest. The strength of this new emotion made her raise her hands to her face. And then, just as suddenly, a splash of anger passed over her yellow eyes. Rebecca Willis was still out there watching them, spying on her... and from that moment Ellesdora knew that an incurable vendetta had opened between herself and the country girl. As though Nicholas was already under some spell he bent down and gently taking Ellesdora's hands he drew her to her feet. "I'm being foolish," she heard herself whisper. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, but I seem to have been imagining all sorts of things since I came to Havenfield." She raised her wide yellow eyes to his. "I know I'm silly," she whispered, then swept her eyelids down again.

"Don't be hard on yourself," he murmured back. "And forgive me. We artist chaps can be foolish too. We get strange fancies...." He drew her a little closer. "In fact, damn you, I've got one now." She looked up again and this time their eyes met and held in a new tender debate. Then Ellesdora was in his arms and he was murmuring something incoherently, brushing her brow with his lips. "I didn't intend to trouble you," he said against her cheek. "Truly I didn't want this... I didn't invite you here...." He broke off to hold her back and study her with half incredulous, half laughing eyes. "You do believe me?" She struggled free. "I don't know," she gasped. "I don't seem to know anything any more. And I must go." "You're not going!" He drew her back with firm hands. "Why should you go ? Am I so repulsive ?" "Oh, no, of course you're not. It's just..,." "That's it's happened so quickly? So out of the blue?" The sudden strength of his arms about her and the masculine warmth and comfort they brought made Ellesdora turn her face into his shoulder and smile secretly. She felt that some alien and indolent spirit was at work within her and she heard herself murmur provocatively, "I'd better warn you, Nicholas Turk, I may be a witch. Are you sure you want to be put under a spell?" "It would be a new experience." His voice was deep and muffled against her hair. "I've never made love to a witch."

They were teasing each other, and then Nicholas's attitude changed and Ellesdora went taut with delight beneath his masterful touch. She raised her face, her lips. "Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me, Nicholas. You want to kiss me. You want me." Just for a moment Nicholas searched Ellesdora's sensitive face, her quivering mouth, then he drew her taut body close. Ellesdora murmured back some little communication and he sighed. She turned in the circle of his arms so that his mouth was against the tender curve of her; throat, his arms still firmly about her slender waist. Then, swiftly, he spun her around and back to face him and her arms rose to his neck and her fingers involuntarily probed the back of her neck. He kissed her again and again with growing passion. A kind of applause exploded in Ellesdora's brain. He was wonderful! Superb.' She had bewitched him! Then his voice jarred Ellesdora out of her dream and she felt herself being roughly set to one side, and to her horror she saw that Nicholas's green eyes were no longer soft, no longer shining. She drew a breath as she watched him straighten up, then she heard him say harshly, "I'd be a fool to be flattered by your generous offer... and a bigger fool to take advantage of it, Ellesdora." She could not speak; she could only stare at him. Turning to the door he said with a harshness that made Ellesdora cringe, "I haven't time to get emotional or complicated. As you say, I'm booked."

CHAPTER FIVE SHE had gone too far, got carried away again. She'd really made an exhibition of herself. And now she was both furious and ashamed of herself. If it hadn't been that she'd known Rebecca was outside spying on them she would not have been driven to such behaviour. Ellesdora sighed deeply and puckered up her face. What had got into her? She even laughed a little. She'd never been the type for offering herself hot.... And she'd got what she deserved, she'd been set aside like a very unsavoury dish. That was what was killing her! Ellesdora drove miserably home along the fellside road. The moon was high, the far stretching moors covered with a silvery sheen, but she had no eye for night magic. Her brain was bombarded by unhappy thoughts. She was no witch, but strangely enough Rebecca Willis had made her act like one... trying to put a spell on the man; she felt ashamed. She took a deep breath. And yet for a few moments she had held Nicholas under some kind of spell; they had responded to each other; she was sure of that. The realisation welled up in her and she suddenly felt like bursting into tears. Instead she took a grip on herself arid tried, to remember in detail what had happened after that. Nicholas had remained politely indifferent, but she had never regained her self-possession. "Don't get anything out of proportion," he had advised her, and had steered her out of the room and up the wide staircase to the first floor. And within five minutes he had entirely forgotten the incident. In a haze of dismay she had followed him around the studio—a large room full of tables with working tops and displays of

turpentine, fixative and charcoal. She remembered the jugs full of brushes and spatulas, the easels and the artist's donkey which had made her smile. His paintings had been good. Most of them had been hung up in makeshift frames... and she'd tried to sound excited and interested. But it had been impossible. While Nicholas's mind had resumed its busy efficient rate she had sunk to the depths; she had never felt so silly or so ashamed of herself. Yet, driving into the stackyard, she felt a rush of impatience. She got out of the car and slammed the door shut; she was suddenly filled with aggression; she didn't care if she woke the whole household. She felt frustrated, restless... and all because of a close physical contact with a man who had thought nothing of turning an embrace into an insult. Indignation stormed the colour back into Ellesdora's face and she stalked across the yard, her mouth set grimly. Surely he had not" imagined that she was offering more than a kiss ? Men were the limit! But then she'd known that; the nurses had been telling her so for years. Mrs. Willis was in the kitchen. Ellesdora could hear her raised voice. She opened the door just as the woman complained to her son, "Your father's milking the cow in the dark! Now isn't that just like him... always trying to be clever. But I wonder when he thinks I'm going to get to bed." Spread over a large old chair by the stove, Percy peered up as Ellesdora came into the room. He was wearing brown cords and an open-necked shirt. "Hello," he greeted her. "Had a nice time? I hear you've been down at the big house." He struggled up. "I should never have left you last night... I might have known you'd get up to something."

"Last night?" Mrs. Willis cut in like a shot. "Never mind, Ma." He scowled at his mother. "I wish your father was in," the woman wailed on. "He'll work himself to death. I wish he could do something else. Grand for adding up his money, that's him. Couldn't read a book to save his life, though." "Aren't you going to sit down?" Percy ignored his mother and grinned up at Ellesdora. "Do you want something to drink?" He smirked at the table. "There's one or two hard scones left." "That's enough, Percy," Mrs. Willis scolded. "If Nurse wants something I'll make it." "I don't want anything, thank you," Ellesdora said quickly. "I'm going straight to bed." "I'm tired too," Mrs. Willis sighed, and wiped her hand across her brow. "Fair weary." She glanced at her son. "Tell your father there's a bite for him in the oven," she said. "I'm off to my bed." "Good-night, Ma." "Good-night, Nurse," Mrs. Willis called after a last suspicious glance at her son. The door closed after Mrs. Willis and Percy got out of his chair. "Well," Ellesdora began, because she was still feeling touchy, "I suppose you'll be dropping the Nurse now that your mother's off to bed."

Percy flushed and grinned in confusion. "She's sensitive," he told her with a shake of his head. "And I'm not in the mood for rows. Best keep her happy." He ran his fingers through his long thick hair. "Are you going to bed?" he asked, and his eyes were glinting again. "Of course I am. Where else would I be going at this hour?" "You sound a bit sharpish. What's wrong?" "There's nothing wrong, Percy. I'm just tired, like your mother." "Come off it. You're just a young'n. You shouldn't be tired." He dragged up a chair to the stove. "Sit down," he said bluntly. "Let's have a crack. Ma's gone to bed and old Jasper's probably asleep under the cow." Ellesdora had to laugh. There was nothing wrong with the Border people; they were quaint. But Percy misunderstood her smile and in a moment he had crossed to her and pressed his arm about her waist. "Don't touch me!" The contact with Percy Willis infuriated Ellesdora. Her small face blazed with anger. "Why not? You're a girl, aren't you?" Percy would not be put off. Roughly he drew Ellesdora close. "Just one kiss. You're a bonny lass, you know." "You must be mad !" Ellesdora flung him off. He caught her again and in a moment she was tight against his hard, hay-smelling body. "I didn't think you'd "be so mean," he laughed. "Come on, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Let me go!" Ellesdora struggled to keep her face away from Percy's. "Are you mad?" "You know I'm not." He caught her hands behind her back, imprisoning her. "You like it, don't you?" he chuckled mischievously. "And I like fighters." Suddenly the kitchen door burst open and Percy's arms dropped to his side like exhausted wings. They both sprung round, startled. It was Rebecca and she was staring across the room at them with a small fierce eyes and her mouth had twisted in a sudden ugly fury. Her shrill words split the air. "Well," she screamed, "now I know what I suspected is true!" She took a few steps towards Ellesdora. "You are a witch! Straight from one man to another. My mother was right about you—you're an Ellesdora all right." She stepped up closer, peering into Ellesdora's shocked white face with hard marble-like eyes. "And you know what happened to the last one, don't you?" Recovering himself, Percy stepped forward. "That will do for you, Rebecca," he growled. "What do you think this is, judgement day?" He braced, himself before his young sister. "You've got no call to talk. Everyone knows about you, Rebecca. As for your artist friend ... just in case you're thinking of marrying him, I'll warn you now. Nicholas Turk isn't the chap for shovelling on the coal or poking up the fire. If I were you, Rebecca Willis, I'd stick to the lads—the ones you were so keen on before Mr. Turk came on the scene." Ellesdora drew her hands up to her ears. She didn't want to hear any more. She swung round and rushed from the room and did not stop until she had reached her bedroom. Once inside she quickly

bolted the door and leaned back against it, panting, trembling. What a dreadful night it had been! Rebecca's footsteps sounded on the landing outside and almost at once the girl was hammering on the door. Ellesdora moved away quickly. "Another thing," the girl shouted hysterically, "Harriet Scandel's cat is dead! And she blames you, Ellesdora Lorraine! She says you owl-eyed it! That's why it died." Ellesdora closed her eyes and listened against the wall to the girl's ravings for a while, then they stopped and she knew that the girl had crept away. She switched on the light. With a feeling of complete exhaustion, she crossed the room and stood staring into the old dressing table mirror. Her own reflection filled her with a new foreboding. Her face looked so strained, so white and her hair was so lank...her amber eyes so yellow! So poor Harriet Scandel's cat was dead! And the woman blamed her! They thought she was a witch.... She gave a little cry and turned away from the mirror. She looked like one . . . she looked wild and awful and she felt worse. In the morning, she decided as she sank on to the side of the bed, she would telephone Doctor Fairless, tell him she could not stay at Ravenscleugh. With a girl like Rebecca at her throat it was impossible. Slowly she turned down the bedclothes. She didn't even blame the girl. Nicholas Turk had turned the silly country girl's head. She stared at the pillow. And What about her own silly head? She sighed long and deep, then got up and slowly began to undress, then climbed into bed. A little smile touched her mouth. Rebecca had at least come to her aid where Percy was concerned ; the girl had saved her from that indignity.

Later Ellesdora murmured in her sleep, struggled restlessly, cried out. She was standing in the middle of the village green and it was midnight and all the villagers were there carrying torches and surging towards her. She could, not move; her hands were tied. On they came, chanting, shouting.... Like a tide they came surging towards her, backed away and came again.. .. She could hear their wild cries and her blood ran cold even in her sleep. She could not move; her hands were tied .... and she was terrified. "She's owl-eyed !" someone called out. "She's a witch! She's evil! She left an adder on my step," came another hysterical outburst. "I heard a rooster crow at midnight!" a harsh voice rasped. "An omen of ill." Above the great tumult of wailing a familiar young voice rang out. "She stole my lover . . . my betrothed.... She put a spell on my lover." "She's owl-eyed!" "She owl-eyed my cat... my Sammy!" Broken with grief Harriet Scandel loomed up. "My Sammy is dead. My cat is dead!" In her dream the crowd surged again... and Ellesdora awakened with a shock and sat bolt upright, her heart hammering, her hair damp with perspiration. She was shaking. Never had she had such a nightmare. Clutching the edge of the sheet, she tried to calm herself, tell herself that it had all just been a dream. The noise of clattering China and the sound of heavy boots came from downstairs. They reassured her, and she raised her eyes and saw the bright sane light of day probing through -the window. She got out of bed slowly and with a thoughtful expression put on her

dressing gown and picked up her toilet bag. Then, rather unsteadily, she made her way out of the room and along the landing to the bathroom. Percy, in trousers and vest, was coming out. "Sorry about last night, then," he said with a grin. "I forgot about Rebecca. She's a little creep, isn't she?" He glanced back a long the landing. "Look," he said, searching Ellesdora's face again, "we'll fix something up." His eyes flicked over her. "And a word of advice. Leave the old Turk alone. Rebecca's real keen.... I don't want to run down my own sister, but she can be pretty nasty." Without a word, Ellesdora pushed by him and closed the bathroom door. She was utterly sick of the Willis family. She flung off her gown and turned on the water, then tried to sort out her thoughts. She had not been mistaken; Nicholas Turk had been attracted to her; now, even in the sober light of day, the memory of his embrace, the power of his kiss, still excited her. He had wanted to make love to her; she had not forced him. She Shrugged her shoulders before she splashed her face with water. How could anyone force a man like Nicholas Turk to do anything he didn't want to? She had nothing to foe ashamed of. Nothing, she tried desperately to reassure herself. Even if he had suddenly felt guilty about Rebecca ... reminded her that he was booked.... Above her thoughts she heard Mrs. Willis calling and hurriedly reached for the towel. When she got downstairs She saw that Mr. Willis was prowling and grumbling round the stove like a hungry bear. "Is it ready yet, Ellen?" he said impatiently, then he saw Ellesdora in the doorway and called, "Good morning, Nurse. Come and sit yourself down."

"Rebecca's in the dairy," Mrs. Willis said at once. "Percy isn't down yet." She glanced at the table. "You'll be wanting to get away, Nurse." "Yon Willy Whip," Jasper told his wife as he sank down on a chair by the table, "he put a young bull in his field and it milked every cow dry. What d'you think of that? He must have bought it straight from its mother." "More fool him." Mrs. Willis set a plate of ham and eggs down before her husband. "But he never was much of a farmer." "No eye for stock—you're right there, lass." "Do you know where Hare House is?" Ellesdora asked as she drank her tea. "I've got to call there this morning." "Molly Young's place. I know it." Jasper stroked his stubble. "Trust you to know it," Mrs. Willis cut in, then she eyed Ellesdora and told her, "She's the widow woman around here. I guess every farmer in this countryside knows Hare House." "Now that's not right, Ellen. That's giving the woman a bad name. And Molly's a fair nice lass, a canny body." "She's forty if she's a day." "If you'll just tell me where the place is?" "What's wrong with her?" Mrs. Willis pressed, pausing as she poured out Jasper's tea. "I can't see Molly Young working herself to death."

"Huh," grunted Jasper. "I'd like to see you manage a place like that with me six feet under." Ellesdora got up from the table. Plainly the Willis family enjoyed a good tackle first thing in the morning. Quickly she wished them good morning and hurried out of the room, deciding as she went to visit the widow first and then the new baby in the village. Reluctantly, she also decided that it would be wise to give Isaac Featherstone another call, make sure that hand was healing. And she'd telephone Doctor Fairless; she'd made up her mind that she would not stay on at Ravenscleugh. Apart from Rebecca's outburst and the mother's clairvoyance, she thought ironically, the whole place was alien to her way of life. She couldn't stay. Yet outside in the bright autumnal sunshine Ellesdora felt better. It was quite peaceful and there was plenty air and as she drove down the winding road to the village she almost felt happy. And after all, she pondered, she and Nicholas Turk had parted on quite friendly terms. On his part at least it had seemed that all was well. A guilty conscience had not embarrassed the man too much. She thought of his kiss, full on her lips ... a thrilling, dangerous kiss. Whether it had been a game or not she felt that something exciting had come into her life. The terrors, the humiliation of the night before seemed to have left her. She had been thrilled by his touch and she had wanted to please him. That was nothing to get all worked up about. She'd gone all out because she'd known Rebecca was watching from the garden. Ellesdora even laughed a little as she drove along. She went over the humped-back bridge again and drove slowly into the village. She rather hoped that she would see Nicholas.

The silver birch in the centre of the green caught her attention first and the smile died from her face and she frowned a little. Then she saw Rebecca and Harriet Scandel and her frown deepened. Rebecca and Harriet were standing close together, and like sheep against a fence, they watched her warily. Ellesdora slowed down a little. She knew they were talking about her, waiting for her in fact. Then she caught sight of Harriet's face and a pang of shock went through her. Harriet Scandel looked distraught; her face was white and lumpy with crying and her hair hung down over her coat as though it had never been combed. She looked like a very, very old woman, although Ellesdora knew that Harriet was no more than sixty. Rebecca looked even more sly. Ellesdora stopped the car. "Hello, Miss Scandel," she called nervously. "I'm very sorry to hear about your cat. Will you be able to get another one?" The woman gave Ellesdora a piercing look, then to Ellesdora's astonishment, Rebecca dragged her away. She turned bright red. Surely the woman didn't really believe that one look from her had killed the cat! It was a monstrous idea! Ellesdora's eyes followed Rebecca's thin form. And an idea put into Harriet's silly weak head by the sly Rebecca, no doubt. Gravely now, Ellesdora drove slowly round the green. Then she saw the new pram in one of the gardens and decided to give the young mother a call before going on to Hare House, wherever that was; she still had not found out. She watched a woman come out of the house and look in the pram, but it was a middle-aged woman and not the young Mrs. Murray, whose husband was a forester according to her report.

Parking the car quickly, Ellesdora got out and, waving, tried to draw the woman's attention. But the woman did not see her and so she hurried to the garden gate. Then something awful happened ! The grandmother, suddenly conscious that someone was watching her, looked up and seeing Ellesdora gave her one fierce glare, then snatching up the baby, turned and rushed back into the house slamming the door in Ellesdora's astonished face. Ellesdora stopped dead. A sudden fear gripped her. So Rebecca Willis was intent on spreading silly rumours about her; and the girl was dangerous; she knew that now. She had seen the hatred, the suspicion in Harriet's eyes... and now this woman's. The woman hadn't wanted her to look at the baby! Turning swiftly, Ellesdora hurried back to the car where for a few moments she sat feeling quite numb with shock. All around her the sad melancholy of autumn had gathered. Ellesdora felt it seeping into her bones. Again she felt utterly lost and miserable. She would ring the doctor at once, she decided, and with shaking hands she started up the car. There was a telephone box at the crossroads and stopping the car as close to it as she could, Ellesdora then quickly got out and ran across to it. The doctor's secretary, Doris Nicholson, answered. "Yes, he's in," she told Ellesdora with a laugh. "Good morning, Nurse." Ellesdora's hands tightened about the receiver. "Doctor Fairless?" Her voice trembled. "Who else!" "This is Nurse Lorraine." "So I understand. What is it, Nurse?"

"I must talk to you, Doctor. It's about the villagers. They're acting very strangely. I think -" "Is there someone ill, Nurse?" His voice was sharp now. "No, Doctor, it's not that." "Then you don't need me?" "I'd like to talk to you, Doctor. Could I come over?" "At any other time, Nurse." The voice was brusque but not impolite. "I'm afraid I'm very busy this morning. Do try to cope. That's a good girl." It was no use. Ellesdora put down the receiver and bit her lip, stared dismally out of the window. And then a thought occurred to her and with a fresh spurt of energy she ran back to the car. She would go to see Nicholas Turk. She would tell him what had happened. He would at least advise her. He knew all too well that she was a warm, normal girl. He would sympathise, she felt sure. Five minutes later Nicholas led her to the small kitchen at the back of the house. "This is a surprise," he said, staring hard at her tight, pale face. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon." "I just had to talk to someone sane," she burst out. "Sane?" He looked as though he was going to laugh, but did not when he saw the expression on her face. "Come along then," he said. "I always feel very sane at this time of day. I'm having some coffee. You must have some."

She nodded and stared around the small compact kitchen. There was only one long window and it looked out on to the garden which ran down to the burn and more blue-green pines. There was a small fire burning in a grate and a large radio standing on the table next to the coffee pot. "I shouldn't be bothering you," she began nervously, searching his face. "But, Nicholas, I got a real scare." "Nicholas?" His dark eyebrows rose and his green eyes sparkled. "At this time of day? And you say my name so delicately." She met his eyes and flushed. "I must say it raises my self-esteem," he teased. "Last night I got the idea that you were rather sorry for this old hermit." She laughed a little. "You're teasing me?" "Of course," he said gently, and turned to pour out her coffee. "I never thought..." she began. "Of course you didn't." He swung back and there was a curious smile on his face. "You can't be sensual and sensible at the same time." His lips curved as though at some amusing reflection. "But now," he said, interrupting his own thoughts, "why are you here, Ellesdora? What's happened?" As he handed her a large beaker he quickly ran his eyes over her. "I must say you look upset." "It's the villagers," Ellesdora told him, "I think they've turned against me." She set down her beaker on the table; she could not drink her coffee yet. "You know Harriet Scandel?" "Of course. The woman with the cat. Everyone knows Harriet."

"Her cat's dead," Ellesdora rushed on in an anguished tone. "And what's more, she blames me. She thinks I killed it." His brow came down. "You?" "Yes, me." Ellesdora's voice trembled. "She's got this Ellesdora witch idea about me now. She thinks I owl-eyed her cat and that's why it died." She took a deep painful breath and raised almost pleading eyes to Nicholas. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, real dismay clouding her face now. "That's not all. I went to see the new baby in the village and the grandmother didn't want me to look at it. She whipped it up and rushed off and slammed the door in my face." She stood up and covered her face with 'her hands. "This is awful," she gasped. "I never dreamt people could be like this ... not in this day and age. I. . .." "Sugar?" She shook her head, then with a fresh rush of panic she raised her eyes to Nicholas's and demanded, "Do I really look like a witch?" But she could see that he was not taking her seriously. She fell away again, sank on to the seat and reached with a shaky hand for the beaker. Only then did she realise that he had not yet shaved and that he was still in dark silk pyjamas and a short housecoat, and he was stirring her coffee for her. "Drink it up and don't be silly," he said, and squeezed her shoulder in an authoritative paternal gesture. "I've never met a woman yet who wasn't a witch." She glanced up and the light caught his eyes and she saw that they were brilliant; she also saw the little twist of amusement to his beautiful sensuous mouth. For a moment a fresh dilemma assailed her and quickly she turned her eyes away from him. This

wonderful man, she reflected with a shiver of delight, had held her in his arms. Even now she could feel his solid body as she had pressed against him. Her breath came quickly and she tried not to remember that he had been capable of a deep warm tenderness ... a sudden passion ... a compulsive ardour. Ellesdora closed her eyes, remembering how her muscles had stirred beneath his touch. Then she pulled herself together and glancing up sharply said, "What do you mean? How can you say that?" He leant back against the table and looked down at her small agitated face. Then he laughed and threw back his head. "Only a witch could have made me act as I did last night," he told her, and now his face wrinkled in mock perplexity. "I'm a very cautious man," he laughed again. "I don't as a rule rush into such situations." He grinned and the attractive line appeared down the side of his cheek again. "Yes," he said pertly, "I'd say you were a witch, Ellesdora." He held out his hands. "But in the evening when the lights are low what's wrong with a little witchery? I didn't exactly complain, did I ?" So she amused him! She jumped up, infuriated now. "I'm not joking, Mr. Turk," she said angrily. "And I'm not talking about last night, I'm talking about this morning and the cold hatred I saw outside there in those village people's eyes. And what's more I think I know who's at the bottom of all this." Her eyes stabbed him. "Rebecca! Rebecca hates me too. You must know that." "Rebecca?" She watched his expression change. "Rebecca," he repeated, frowning. "What nonsense!" His voice was dry with impatience. "Rebecca's a sweet child. Besides," he went on roughly, "she hasn't got the brains to hate anyone. I should know that. I know her well enough ... I've suffered from her tantrums too."

The thought of Rebecca's tantrums seemed to amuse him. Ellesdora, watching him closely, caught his expression before he turned away to stare thoughtfully out of the window. It had been a mistake to bring Rebecca into it. The grim concern now registered on Nicholas's profile was obviously for the young country girl. "I'll not take up any more of your time." Ellesdora stood up abruptly. "I'm going now." He caught her half way to the hall and gripped her arm detainingly. "Now don't you be silly," he said with a new sharpness. "Come back and we'll talk this over. You can't rush off like this. We're friends, aren't we?" "Friends!" she choked. The word seemed like an insult. "You're not even concerned about me! Bewitched you, did I?" She laughed harshly, hating herself at the same time for her vulgarity. "You've got a nerve, Mr. Turk. There's only one little witch in this village ... so you'd better watch out!" In the hall, Nicholas caught her again, but this time firmly, gripping her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "What the devil are you talking about?" His eyes were as dark as sage. "Can't you -take a little teasing? You're intent on making mountains out of molehills, Ellesdora. As for last night—" His voice lowered as he scanned her stiff face. "I apologize, if that's what you want. I'm sorry if I made you feel cheap." His hands slid down her arms and he found her hands and gripped them assuringly. "Believe me," he said gently, "there's nothing in this village to hurt you. As for myself"—he pulled her forward and touched the tip of Ellesdora's cold nose with his lips—"we're not going to get too upset over a few kisses, are we ?"

CHAPTER SIX OBVIOUSLY Nicholas Turk imagined her to be highly strung and impulsive, a bit of a nuisance. And very plainly he wanted to protect young Rebecca... for what reason she could only surmise. So Ellesdora felt even more disillusioned When she drove away from Burnside House. But she had to find Hare House. There was still work to be done, so She drove quickly through the village and after stopping to ask a waggon man the way she drove on towards the mine on the road going north. The autumn bracken lay like wreaths on the felltops and the heather was almost dead, but the sun Shone and the sky was windswept and clear and Ellesdora found Hare House, a grey little fort of a place, hidden away in a fold of land and 'backed by a windbreak of tall Scots pine. Molly Young was in the garden. Ellesdora caught sight of her red head over the wall and getting out of the car she calmed herself and did her best to think of nothing but her patient. And Molly made it easy. She was a cheerful, good- looking woman of about forty with lavender-blue eyes and she was wearing a very smart trouser suit. She also had a very ready smile. "Hello there," she called. "Doctor Fairless told me you'd be calling. Come along in, Nurse. I've got the kettle on." The very tone of Molly's voice made Ellesdora feel better; she even smiled. "Hello," she called back. "I've brought your injection. One now and two to follow." "That's right. That's what the doctor said."

Molly pushed open the front door and Ellesdora followed her in after frowning at the huge antlers which adorned the door. "Are you frowning at the antlers?" Molly laughed. "They were one of my husband's jokes ... fertility and all that, you know. He was a bit superstitious." Ellesdora grimaced and followed Molly into the farm kitchen, a warm colourful room with white walls and dark traditional furniture, lots of brass and lots of potted plants. "It's lovely, and warm in here," Molly said as she turned to look at Ellesdora. "And I'm Molly Young... but of course you know that." "I'm Nurse Lorraine." Molly nodded. "I know, but I hope we're going to be friends, so what's your other name?" Ellesdora took a deep breath and then forced a laugh. "I hope you're not superstitious," she said, eyeing Molly squarely. "I hate to tell you, but I'm called Ellesdora." "Good heavens!" Molly stared back at Ellesdora and laughed. "I know," Ellesdora returned with a grimace. "It doesn't go down very well in this village." Molly grinned. "They haven't heard it for a bit," she joked lightly. "But don't look so worried. -Sit down. I love to see someone." Ellesdora shook off her gloom. "I'm certainly glad to meet you," she said more happily. "I certainly haven't hit it off with everyone. In fact I've had rather a grim morning."

"Oh, they're a funny lot," Molly chuckled to herself as she took the kettle off the stove. "Harmless enough, though." And then with a rush of confidence, Ellesdora told Molly what had happened. She told her about Harriet Scandel's cat and about the woman who had snatched up the baby before she. could get to it. Finally, sinking down on to a Chair, She also told her about the Willis family. "I know them," Molly said, and she gave Ellesdora a hard curious stare. "They're all right really. The mother's had to work hard all her life and the daughter's a bit fey. Old man Willis is an out-andout sheep man ... can't think of anything else. And there's Percy ... a nice-looking laddie." "But the mother," Ellesdora insisted. "She's so superstitious. I can't believe it! They're not allowed to call me Ellesdora in the house.... And she won't have a black hen about the place. She's got the daughter indoctrinated too." "Don't take them so seriously," Molly advised as she made the tea and clattered out some cups and saucers. "And give them time. They'll get used to you." She paused and frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Mind," she added, "there is a mad fringe at Havenfield... the older generation, I'd say. They're inclined to live in the past and they probably still worry about things that go bump in the night. My mother used to be a bit inclined that way. She never took to strangers.... But the district nurse!" She smiled encouragingly and handed Ellesdora her tea. "I expect it's just your name," she laughed. "It would give them a start. But you're certainly welcome here at Hare House. I hope you'll drop in often." "I will.... I'd love to." Ellesdora sighed and sank back on her seat, feeling as though she had at last made a friend. "Do you know

Nicholas Turk?" she asked carefully after a few moments. "He's the artist who's staying at Burnside House. I've met him." Molly rolled her blue eyes. "I know who he is," she returned with a mock sigh. "And I know he's fabulous, but I haven't had a chance to speak to him yet." She squinted at Ellesdora. "I suppose you know about his affair with Rebecca Willis. Well, they say it's an affair; I can hardly believe it...." she laughed. "Still, you never know with men. Some like schoolgirls and Rebecca's not much more." "She always reminds me of a hill hare," Ellesdora retorted before she could stop herself. "She's so fawn and brown and she can keep so still." "I wouldn't tell Mrs. Willis that," Molly said promptly. "I suppose you know that the Scottish witches were supposed to be able to change themselves into hares?" Ellesdora looked up and shuddered. "Oh, dear me," she whispered. "Did they really?" Molly nodded,. "I'd say the girl has some strange attraction. There's something about her... something different." Ellesdora stood up. "Have you had any of these injections before?" she asked, wanting to change the subject. Molly shook her head. "No, but I was so poorly last winter with 'flu and throat infections that Doctor Fairless suggested I should have them this autumn." "They should help."

"I hope so. I have no one to look after me if I'm ill in the winter. It was ghastly last year." "Do you work this place yourself, Molly?" "Mmmmm. Two hundred acres, mostly sheep. You know I'm a widow?" "Yes, I'm sorry." "Are you married, Nurse ... I mean Ellesdora?" Ellesdora tried to laugh. "No," she told her. "And with these owleyes Mrs. Willis says I have, I'm not going to have much chance of finding anyone to take the risk of marrying me." "What nonsense! You've got lovely eyes. They're your best feature." "Thanks." Ellesdora smiled and stood up. "Oh!" Molly eyed the syringe pack. "Do you need anything?" "No, no, I've got it all here. If you'll just pull your sleeve up, Molly." "What a coward I am," said Molly, eyeing the syringe. "I don't like needles." She looked away as she held out her arm. "There you are." Ellesdora drew the needle out and cleaned up Molly's arm with some spirit. "That's all for this week." "Oh, good. I hardly felt that." Molly pulled down her sleeve. "You're a good nurse. And where are you going now?"

"Isaac Featherstone's," Ellesdora said with a grimace. "He has a nasty hand." "Poor old devil! He's got a fortune, you know. And what good does it do him? He'll just be tied up and robbed one of these days. That's what I tell him." Ellesdora looked surprised. "Do you see him?" "See him? I wash one or two shirts for the old beggar every now and again." Ellesdora threw the used plastic equipment into the stove fire. So Molly Young was kind ! She liked her very much. "I'll look forward to coming back, Molly," she said as she walked towards the door. "Come and have supper with me one night. We'll have plenty time to talk then." "I'd certainly like to do that." "And don't worry about me. I'm sane enough. I've had to be. I'll give you a ring." "Thanks very much, Molly." They waved goodbye to each other and Ellesdora drove off feeling as though she'd been to a party. She smiled as she drove off. Molly Young, she decided, was a very brave woman and she herself was a very silly one. There were a few odd people in the village. So what! She was an idiot to get so het up about them.

She wondered how Isaac was getting on and laughed at the thought of seeing him and his dog again. It was, once again, a wonderful golden morning, all was well, and she'd call at Burnside House on the way back from Isaac's and tell Nicholas that she had acted a little too hastily. Tell him that she had indeed got carried away, tell him she was sorry she had troubled him. Isaac was working in his scrap-yard, but when he saw Ellesdora coming down the narrow path to his door he braced himself and hurried to greet her. "I kind of thought you'd look in again, Nurse," he called. "I've been keeping something for you." He gave her a roguish grin. "Come on in," he said. "I've got a bit of boiled sheep's head put away for you." But before Ellesdora could walk in, Mick the mongrel had shot out with a yard of white pudding in his mouth and aghast they both watched the dog bolt up the bank. "He's a bad beggar," Isaac swore. "He lives on the best and he's still a thieving rascal. And now he's off with the white puddings. I wouldn't care I had a market for those! The beggar'll poison himself." "I'd like to look at your hand again, Isaac." Ellesdora followed the muttering old man into his kitchen. "Just a minute," he told her, and crossing through a pile of rubbish he opened a grandfather clock and took a small grey-looking basin from its works. "I've been keeping it for you," he repeated gleefully. "This'll put a bit of sparkle into you." Ellesdora laughed all the way back to the car, but she had conveniently forgotten the basin. To her amazement Isaac's hand

had healed well and to her relief there would be no need for a further encounter. In the car she looked at her report book and decided to bath her two old ladies after dinner. She would call at Burnside House and then get back to Ravenscleugh. She looked up for a moment as she drove away. There were a few puffs of cloud in the sky now, like strands of goat's hair. The moment Nicholas Turk appeared at the door Ellesdora knew that something had happened and she drew back, staring at him, wondering too why he was still not dressed. Before she could speak he had taken her arm in a vice-like grip and drawn her almost roughly into the house. "I was coming to look for you," he said harshly, forcing her forward. "Come in." He steered her into the small sitting room. "We must talk." Once in the room he turned to Ellesdora with hard, probing eyes. "I came back to apologize," she told him in a small quick voice. "I realize now how idiotic I must have sounded. I'm sorry." She forced a smile and raised her eyes to his. "I am an idiot." "Are you ? I'm not so sure!" Something in her voice made her gasp. "I'm beginning to think perhaps I'm the foolish one," he spat out angrily. "I'm just hoping this isn't supposed to be some kind of a joke." She did not understand. Tiny flecks of yellow leapt in his green eyes; he was more than angry, rage worked his face. "Is there something wrong?" she faltered.

"Wrong!" the word fired back and he took her arm again and almost shouted, "You'd better come upstairs and see what's wrong. And you're quite right, Nurse . .. there is some kind of devilry going on. You should see my paintings !" With fast beating heart Ellesdora followed Nicholas upstairs and in his studio she took one look at his mutilated canvases and fell back with a gasp of horror. "Oh, how awful!" she gasped, and clapped her hands to her face in sheer agony. "Oh, your work! Your paintings !" she choked. "It's not just the destruction," Nicholas raged as he sprang from one knifed canvas to another. "Just look at this painting of Rebecca. Come here, look at it!" Slowly, sensing that she was to see something horrible, Ellesdora crossed to him and stared up at the -easel. Again she fell back, stricken this time, her face turning deathly White. A large steel knitting needle had been thrust into the girl's heart, the rest of the picture had been scratched and knifed just as some of the others had been. "This is sheer vandalism!" Nicholas stormed from picture to picture, his face twisted with disbelief and fury. "I wonder who's trying to scare me with this sign of ill omen." He stopped to stare at the painting of Rebecca which had been almost completed. "Of course she'll not have to see this." "Is there anything I can do?" Ellesdora asked helplessly, her own face masked with distress. He eyed her sharply. "Yes, there is," he told her abruptly. "Pack your bag and go. This isn't a suitable place for a girl like yourself.

You'll never understand what goes on in the minds of these country people... . I can hardly understand myself. I'm shocked." "You seem to like the place well enough." Her voice was very small and distant. "I'm not a district nurse," he shot back. "I paint, I observe, but I have very little to do with the locals. Or anyone else." He frowned deeply and his mouth twisted unhappily. "I never get near enough to allow anyone to trample on me... or so I thought." "I'm certainly not running away." She turned away from him. "You'll find out Who did this to your work. Just one madman ... or woman." To Ellesdora's astonishment Nicholas gripped her arm and swung her round to face him. "I insist that you stay here at Burnside House with me," he said authoritatively. "At least until I get this matter cleared up." She looked up at him, her eyes wide, incredulous. "Me?" she gasped. "Why me?" Her chin rose a little. "You haven't got a painting of me with a needle through my heart. I'm not the one someone is suggesting is in danger. It's Rebecca !" His fingers bit into her arm. "I still think you should stay here with me. There's plenty of room. And if you insist upon a chaperon we'll get Mrs. Moffat to live in for a week or two." He took a deep breath and looked deep into her eyes. "You said the villagers had taken a dislike to you, Ellesdora ... and it could well be.... They'll know you were here with me." Because he'd called her by her Christian name again, Ellesdora flushed and with a flurry of embarrassment at his concern for her,

she struggled free. "I thought you didn't like women cluttering up your house," she flung in a funny little embarrassed voice. "If you won't stay here with me," Nicholas went on quickly, ignoring her, "then I must telephone Frank... Doctor Fairless. I've known Frank long enough. He'll understand and I'm sure he won't want you stuck out at Ravenscleugh in such upsetting circumstances.'' Ellesdora bit her lip as though to stem some inward emotion; her eyes were critical. "Shouldn't you be worrying about Rebecca?" she blurted out. "Rebecca's safe enough," he returned sharply. "The villagers have no illusions about Rebecca. She's one of them. No, the maniac responsible for this vandalism must have seen you here at Burnside House, Ellesdora." He laughed lightly and raised his eyebrows. "In their own way they're warning me off. As you say, Ellesdora, someone here in the village has it in for you. I realize that now." Ellesdora fell away, stricken again, but he reached out and gripped her elbows, held her squarely. "Don't look so terrified," he said steadily, his eyes never leaving hers. "They won't succeed. You may fool me a little, but you most certainly do not frighten me." The look in his eyes was like some communication he did not wish to utter again, and now his physical presence overwhelmed Ellesdora. He was so close; she could feel his warm breath. And his skin was so bronzed, his dark brow so straight. And his mouth; she had to turn away, for the memory of those sensitive yet sensuous lips was too much for her. "I should never have come to this backwood," she lashed out with a sudden feeling of aggression she did not understand. "And I

certainly wish I'd never troubled you. I've been running in and out of Burnside House like a silly little schoolgirl... like Rebecca." She bit her lip; she had; not meant to say that, and now She felt him stiffen and his hands released her. "There's only one Rebecca," he said firmly. "And believe me, she's no schoolgirl. She can look after herself." "Well, don't get the wrong idea about me," she flung back. "I don't need a watchdog." "Is that how you think of me ?" He was laughing at her, she thought, and she glared back at him with hostile eyes. "Don't mistake my intentions," he said with a sudden impatience. "I haven't offered to lie at the foot of your bed ... or anywhere near it." He ran frowning eyes swiftly over her. "I merely think it would be wise if I kept my eye on you for a day or two... at least until this agitation has died down in the village." "I understand." Ellesdora's voice was very small, very distant. "And thank you." she raised her eyes. "I am truly sorry about your paintings. All that work! It's dreadful!" She turned away. "I should never have come here." "Nonsense!" He reached out to squeeze her hand in a comforting gesture. "Don't you worry about my canvases," he said lightly. "I'll be honest, they weren't my best." She met his eyes and they were both laughing.

"You're just being kind," She accused brokenly. "They were good." "Are you an authority, Ellesdora?" She shook her head. "They just looked good to me." He took her hands in his own, but this time in an almost paternal gesture. "You look good to me," he returned with a provocative grin. "And just think of all the trouble you're causing." "Then you'd better get rid of me!" "No, no, now you're being silly again." As he rebuked her, he drew her a little closer and looking into his stern green eyes Ellesdora felt that she would suffocate with her own thoughts. Once again she felt overcome by his sheer physical presence, the warm bronzed skin, his broad strong face, his sensitive yet sensuous mouth. She stared up at him for a moment, then with a rush of temper she did not intend she struggled free. "I should never have come to this place," she burst out breathlessly. "And I certainly wish I'd never troubled you. You worry about Rebecca, Nicholas.... I can look after myself." She felt him stiffen, saw his hands drop to his sides and his brow wrinkle up. "Rebecca can well look after herself," he said evenly, coldly. "I've told you that." Ellesdora turned back to him, her heart hammering angrily. The name Rebecca put a distance between them. She could see the coldness in his eyes, hear it in his tone. And she would not have it!

She had to have him! It was like a fever! She was insanely in love with the man; she would happily send Rebecca Willis to the stake! As she went on staring at Nicholas she felt that she wasn't even breathing. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder and he was saying, "We'll go downstairs and I'll get you some coffee. You're all worked up, Ellesdora." "Nicholas!" she whispered, and raised her arms to him. "You'd better stay here, Ellesdora. For a day or two." She closed her eyes because his voice was low and deep and intimate again, his arms firmly about her. "You're overwrought," he murmured. "Now let's go downstairs." "Nicholas...." "Yes?" "I'm staying." "Good girl! What about your clothes?" "I'll go back to the farm. And I'll telephone the Nursing Council." "If you're not here by eight o'clock I'll drive up for you." "Nicholas!" Her fingers gently probed the back of his neck. "Do you find me attractive?" "Of course I do," he laughed gently. "But not very sane."

The moment Ellesdora got back to Ravenscleugh she went straight upstairs to her bedroom. She did not want to see Mrs. Willis until she had packed her bags. The house was oddly silent, she thought as she opened the large wardrobe—as though everyone had deserted. She dragged out a case and turned to take it to the bed. Then she saw Rebecca and fell back, her breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with shock. Rebecca was sitting on the bed ! Shocked, her hand raised to her mouth, Ellesdora stared at the girl who sat very still and very hunched, her head down and with a shawl of fawn hair about her shoulders. Again and with the same kind of terror, Ellesdora was struck by the girl's resemblance to a hare. As though reading her thoughts, Rebecca raised her round bright eyes, her sharp white teeth. Ellesdora took a deep steadying breath. This was the girl who meant so much to Nicholas Turk! Oh yes, he was being kind to her, but this strange girl on the bed was the one with whom he was having some kind of an affair. She took another deep breath, trying to stem the hatred that rose up in her. Rebecca stood up and Ellesdora saw her own hatred reflected in the girl's steady eyes. "What are you doing here?" she whispered as Rebecca came towards her. "You've come back to pack, haven't you?" Rebecca sneered. "I knew you would. I was waiting for you." "So it seems." Ellesdora wished she could stop shaking. What did the girl mean? Did she imagine she was going back to town ? Rebecca stepped up. "We arranged it," She laughed into Ellesdora's white face.

"I don't know What you're talking about," she flashed back. "Arranged what ?" For the first time she felt just a little soared of the strange-looking girl. "I asked Nicholas to take you away from here," the girl flared, her eyes flashing menacingly now. "I can't stand you. And my mother's right—you are dangerous. The villagers think so too." Ellesdora stared back at the girl, at the thin breast that rose and fell quickly, at her distorted face. What did she mean? What had she arranged with Nicholas? A new and almost hysterical fear raced about her own brain. She could not speak; she just went on staring. "So don't get the idea that Nicholas Turk fancies you," Rebecca suddenly laughed Shrilly. "You'd be mad if you did!" Her voice rose to even a higher and more agitated pitch. "He wants to keep an eye on you, that's all. He doesn't want anyone upsetting me." She moved in close, her eyes full of malicious triumph as she flaunted herself before Ellesdora. "Nicholas would do anything for me. Put up with anything ... anything now!" In one agonizing flash of intuition Ellesdora knew what the girl meant, and the pain of this realization was like a merciless noose about her neck. She fell back against the wardrobe; there was no strength in her knees. And in the girl's mocking eyes she read the awful truth. Rebecca was pregnant!

CHAPTER SEVEN STUNNED, Ellesdora stared back at Rebecca. Desperately, she tried to keep her composure, but her spirit lay dead within her, her newborn hopes cruelly shattered. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said on a great breath. "I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying here, Rebecca. And whether you like it or not." She swept her eyes over the girl dispassionately. "And if you mean you're pregnant I only hope the responsible man will marry you. I can't see your mother being overjoyed at this news." "Oh, Nicholas will marry me. I've told you, he'll do anything for me." Her mouth twisted sneeringly. "I think he'd even play up to you a bit if I asked him. And 'he did ask you to go down there and stay, I know he did. You're playing bluff, Nurse Lorraine. But you can't fool me." She gave Ellesdora a sly- lidded look and followed her to the door. Ellesdora flung the door open wide. "I haven't time to discuss your affairs tonight, Rebecca," she said smoothly. "But my advice to you is not to waste any time in seeing Doctor Fairless. You may be wrong... about your condition, I mean." "Sorry." Rebecca's face was close and sneering again. "I'm not wrong. And Nicholas wouldn't want me to be. So I'm not bothered either." She stepped lightly out on to the landing, then glanced back with glinting eyes. "I just don't want you around, Nurse Lorraine. I'm Q, bit like my mother... fey ... wizen I look at you all I can see is trouble." She shrugged her thin shoulders. "For you, of course, so why don't you go?" Ellesdora slammed the door shut and leaned back against it. She closed her eyes, stifled her tears. Nicholas Turk had destroyed her!

She clenched her fists in a sudden fury of humiliation and anger. Oh, what a fool she had made of herself! A painful little sound came from her throat and she turned the side of her face on to the cool paint. Nicholas Turk! The protective father! The father of Rebecca's baby! She covered her face with her hands. How could she believe it with the imprint of his fingertips, the pressure of his mouth still in her memory? How could she believe in such deceit? She didn't! But she had to; the girl had said she was pregnant... and there was just something about Rebecca that told her she might well be in such a condition. She was shocked all right, but she was not going to disappear down a hole like some scared rabbit. Numbly, Ellesdora stared into the room, wondering what Rebecca had actually told Nicholas. Perhaps the girl had even accused her of destroying Nicholas's paintings. As for them arranging to get her away from Ravenscleugh—cold anger straightened Ellesdora's back now, and her chin shot up. What kind of a fiend did Nicholas Turk imagine she was? She caught sight of herself in the long wardrobe mirror and a strange smile touched her lips. She picked up her coat and flung out of the room. There were still two little old ladies patiently waiting for her. At the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, Mrs. Willis hurried out into the hall. "Are you coming for your dinner, Nurse?" she called in her usual exasperated tone. "It's after one." "I'm sorry, Mrs. Willis," Ellesdora called as she rushed by the woman. "I haven't got time to eat. I'm late and I must fly ..." she could not resist it... "on my broomstick!" A door clashed and Ellesdora was on her way. Out in the yard she met Percy.

"Mind, I don't care for you much in that outfit," he jeered with a grin. "You'll never rouse the lads in that." He ran after her. "Hi, what's the hurry?" he called. "The house isn't on fire. And what about tonight?" Completely ignoring Percy, Ellesdora hurried into the car and turned on the ignition, but not until she had left the farm and was on her way down the fell road did she breathe easily again. Then she saw a car coming up and slowed down and, moved on to the grass verge. But the other car slowed down too and to Ellesdora's astonishment she saw that the driver was Doctor Fairless, and he had seen her. "Hello, Nurse," he called cheerfully through the lowered window. "I was just coming up to see you." He parked his car on the opposite verge and got out. "Doris ... Mrs. Nicholson was a bit worried about you, so I said I'd call in." His smile was meant to intrigue, but Ellesdora did not like the light in his eyes as he leant against the car door. "I got my orders," he called out, laughing. "So now, what is it?" Ellesdora flushed. She could not raise a smile, but she wound down the window and staring up at him, faltered, "I'm sorry, Doctor Fairless, I should never have bothered you. I didn't mean to...-." "All right," he cut in sharply, "don't go into a decline, Nurse. Just open the other door and let me in. There's a strong breeze out here." Ellesdora leant over and opened the door and then watched the doctor stride round the front of the car. He looks like a consultant, she thought cynically, he just wants a buttonhole in his expensive

lapel. He's vain and conceited and I don't like him... or any other man. Doctor Fairless got into the car and slammed the door shut, stretched, out his long elegant legs. "I'm sorry," he said, turning to scrutinize Ellesdora's solemn face, "I didn't mean to sound offhand this morning. Doris is quite cross with me." He patted her knee and ignored her wince. "Now tell me what's happened? You haven't given anyone a large overdose, have you?" Ellesdora could not laugh. She turned away to gaze over the fell. She did not like familiarity, and now the doctor's arm was about the top of her seat. Men! How she hated them! She turned round and sat with her back to the door, facing him. "I must have been mad to telephone you," she said with a forced laugh. "It was one of the villagers, Harriet Scandel. She said I'd killed her cat." His long wide mouth stretched even wider. "Is that all?" His oblique eyebrows rose up into a V. "What did you do? Drop an aspirin?" "It was even more simple than that," she shot back, feeling herself getting worked, up again. "The people around here seem to think I have an evil eye or something.... I looked at the cat and it died, so now they won't let me look at their babies.. .. When I telephoned you I was really upset, but I've calmed down a little now." "I'm glad." He drew one elegant leg and crossed it over the other as he studied Ellesdora's flushed face. "I must say they're a peculiar mob in Havenfield. But what can you expect? They live down there in their dark little houses, with their dark little thoughts. They seem to be cut off from anything normal. It's just a pity that main road hadn't gone straight through Havenfield instead of bypassing it.... They would have been a different lot of people."

Uncomfortable now, Ellesdora eased back on to her seat. "Did you know that there was a witch burned at Havenfield?" she asked in a very suppressed voice. "Ages ago, I mean." He moved back. "I didn't until Doris informed me," he said with a laugh. "In fact it was Doris who mentioned it." Ellesdora shot forward. "Doris! What did she mention?" She swallowed hard, tried to steady herself. "What did she say?" "She merely mentioned the fact that you had a very strange name. I said it was a beautiful name and she agreed with me." "And she also told you that Ellesdora was the name of the Havenfield witch?" "Well, yes, she did." "There... everyone seems to get upset over my name. Even Doris ... Mrs. Nicholson." "Not upset, Nurse. Doris is much too intelligent to let such coincidences worry her." "But she knew the villagers would be upset?" "Nurse!" He paused, drew a deep breath and then asked rather impatiently, "Is there anything I can do ?" "No, there's not. At the time I just wanted to tell someone." "Quite understandable." He narrowed his eyes and scanned her face. "Have you had lunch?" he asked, concern in his voice now. "You look a bit peaky, Nurse."

She shook her head. "Then you'll come with me and have a sandwich at least. We'll go down to the Black Raven." He patted her knee again, but Ellesdora did not notice. "It will give us a chance to get acquainted." His eyebrows rose again. "You won't mind if I call you Ellesdora, will you?" he said. She shook her head. "Call me anything you like, Doctor." "Good girl! I'll drive down ahead of you." Ellesdora watched him get out of the car. Then for a moment she closed her eyes. He was the second man to call her 'good girl'. And it wasn't true; she had the most terrible thoughts imaginable. Strong unfamiliar forces were at work within her; she was seething with frustration and hatred. The car ahead moved off and Ellesdora drove slowly after it. It passed through her mind that Frank Fairless would have a. long, lean, black and slinky-looking car. But at least, she sighed, a girl knew exactly where she was with a man like that. The Black Raven was practically empty. The barman was leaning on the counter reading a paper and one or two farmers sat around having a midday chat. They nodded briefly to the doctor and gave Ellesdora a long hard stare. "Good morning, then," the barman said as he slowly folded up his paper and eyed the doctor. "What's it going to be, then?" "Sandwiches, please. Ham if you have them. A whisky for me and an orange for the young lady."

The wag-at-the-wall clock seemed to hold the barman mesmerised. "White or brown?" he enquired, his gaze still going over their heads. " 'Fraid it's just cheese and egg. No ham." "We'll take what you've got." The doctor's reply was just as indifferent, but a frown of impatience creased his brow. "I suppose you have whisky?" Embarrassed, Ellesdora wandered off to a small table and sat down. In the harsh light of day the Black Raven looked very different. The snug at the far end with its dark pews and partitions had a funereal air and Ellesdora shivered a little. The farmers ignored her. The doctor came in with the tray. "I wouldn't call this service," he said brusquely. "But never mind, it will do. There's nowhere else, I'm afraid." "I don't mind. I just want a sandwich." "They don't seem to be worrying about business here." With a laugh the doctor sat down and set out the drinks. "We'll have a banquet one of these nights," he told Ellesdora in an apologetic tone. "Just you and I... I know the very place." He pushed the sandwich plate closer to Ellesdora. "You have those," he said. "I just want a cigar and a drink." Ellesdora leant forward. "There's certainly some very sober faces," she said under her breath. "Perhaps they've heard of the tragic end of Harriet's cat." "Oh, don't be ridiculous!" The doctor sat back and frowned with impatience. "We didn't come in here to discuss Harriet Scandel... or her damned cat." He leant across the table a little. "Tell me about yourself, Nurse. Apart from all this silliness do you think

you're going to enjoy district nursing?" He drew on his cigar. "This is your first appointment, isn't it?" "It is," Ellesdora told him as She toyed with her glass. "I always wanted to nurse in the country, but now I think I'm all for the sane city lights. My friends were right. They gave me six weeks." She laughed a 'little nervously. "I don't think I'll last out that long." "We'll see about that." Frank Fairless sat back and blew leisurely into the air. "You'll make friends, you'll see. Doris would like you to come over to Scarlet House one night for dinner." Ellesdora had to laugh. "Can she cook," she asked, "as well as everything else?" Her eyebrows rose mockingly. "You're a very lucky man, Doctor." "Yes...." Frank Fairless looked away for a moment, the rest of his thoughts never leaving his mouth. "Yes..." "I must say she is very nice." He turned back to Ellesdora. "I'll have to do something to liven up things for you, Nurse," he said, and he was smiling again. "You'll feel better," he told her, "when you have a place of your own. Nurses never enjoy living in." He leant forward again and lowered his voice. "And if they're going to take too long to fix you up then I'll have to see what I can do about it.... I have a friend with a very smart bungalow over here somewhere....'. And I don't suppose he's using it at this time of year." A bungalow! Ellesdora's heart leapt up. A bungalow of her own for a while... she would love that. She searched the doctor's face. "Would I be able to rent it?" she asked, breathless with sudden interest.

"I think something could be arranged," he returned in a relaxed voice. "I'd say it was the very place for a smart girl like you." Just for a moment Ellesdora forgot her troubles and she smiled for the first time. "That's better," he murmured. But the smile was short-lived. A sound made Ellesdora turn round and she saw Harriet Scandel and Rebecca in the doorway, a crowd of angry-looking villagers behind them. Ellesdora shot to her feet. "What is it now?" Frank Fairless groaned. "They're not looking for you, Nurse." "Oh, yes, they are!" The doctor stood up. He scowled his annoyance as Harriet and Rebecca hurriedly crossed the room to them. "We've been trying to get you, Doctor," Harriet piped in her thin reedy voice. "It's Mrs. Armstrong... she's slipped in the bath." She turned hard accusing eyes upon Ellesdora and then squeaked on, "She was expecting the nurse. The last one always helped her." "Yes, she wasn't supposed to bath herself," someone endorsed shrilly. "The nurse always went at one o'clock. Mrs. Armstrong should have been told !" Ellesdora trembled at the hostile eyes all about her. And then she felt the doctor's hand on her arm and she was being firmly steered

through the silent, grave-eyed, accusing bunch of women. Rebecca was there, her eyes full of spite, the hatred in them following her. "Mrs. Armstrong?" the doctor questioned the moment they were outside. "Oh yes. Good lord, the woman's eighty-eight. And she has a heart condition." "And according to my report she's been trying to climb into the bath herself for the last two years." Ellesdora's voice trembled; again she felt completely shaken. "Come along then, Nurse." He strode impatiently away to his car. "Jump in with me, we'll have to face it. But don't look so guilty. You may have put a spell on that woman's oat, but you most certainly didn't put one on Mrs. Armstrong." He opened the car door for her and just for a moment his dark eyes twinkled encouragingly. "I wouldn't complain if you brewed something up for me." Ellesdora said nothing; she just got into the car and sat silent. The front door of Mrs. Armstrong's cottage stood open and one or two women stood about. "I'll see to this," Frank Fairless said in a clipped voice as he drew the car up to the gate. "You stay in the car, Nurse. Don't move." Ellesdora watched the doctor stride away up the garden path and sat back, afraid again. How could she keep calm? And what had she done? Why was everyone against her? Why did they listen to a girl like Rebecca Willis? She sank lower in the seat and turning away from the women who were now eyeing her curiously, she wondered what story Rebecca was circulating. Desperately she turned on the radio; desperately she tried to think of her friends back in the city. They would be coming off duty, going down town, looking around the big shops. And here she was, terrified to

death in a gloomy old place... hounded by a girl who probably had insanity in her family. But she was thankful that Frank Fairless had turned up. It could have been worse. As for Nicholas Turk—! She sat with bowed head thinking about him, hating him. "Well, that didn't take long." It was the doctor back again. Ellesdora sat up, her eyes widening with anxious enquiry. "Just shocked. The old dear will be all right. Someone determined to make a fuss about nothing, I'd say." Ellesdora took a deep breath. "Did they blame me ?" she asked quickly, fearfully. And because he did not answer her at once she faltered, "I think I know who's instigated all this. There are people in this village, Doctor, who are determined to make trouble for me. They're hounding me. They want me to go. And what's more, I'm going!" "Now just a minute.... And we're off duty now, so I'll call you Ellesdora. We're not going to get all upset because Mrs. Armstrong expected you half an hour earlier. She has a daughter there; she could have helped the old lady. No, this has nothing whatever to do with you, Ellesdora." He reached out and opened a small compartment. "Now I'm going to fix you a small brandy and then I'm driving you back to Scarlet House for the rest of the day." He quirked the corner of his mouth and lifted one eyebrow. "And in return you're going to promise not to leave me in the lurch. It's very difficult to get nurses to come out here, you know. Besides, Ellesdora, you happen to be the one I want. I'll not have you chased away."

His arm was about her shoulder and he was helping to steady the small flask in her hand. "It's all right," she told him with a nervous laugh. "I didn't slip in the bathtub." "With me around you certainly wouldn't," he teased, and he tilted the flask back a little so that Ellesdora was forced to drink. "That's enough," she said with a little gasp. "I'll be all right now. But I'll never get used to these people." "Then you must get used; to me." He put the flask away and turned on the ignition. "We must be friends." He flicked her a sly, amused glance. "Though I don't suppose it would be possible for a girl like you to be friends with a male. I'd say you have too many of the necessary hormones. A battalion, no doubt." He touched her knee again and she drew away; he smiled into the driving mirror and said, "It's all right, Ellesdora. We're on our way now... and: with luck Doris will have the tea ready. And we'll talk about that bungalow on the way. I remember now, it's just outside the village and it's furnished." "I'd certainly be more inclined to stay if I could get away from the Willis family," she said, feeling better, the brandy bringing the colour back to her cheeks. "It's very kind of you, Doctor," she said gravely, "and as you've been so honest with me, I'll be just as honest with you. I'm a very old-fashioned girl. Do you get me?" He laughed low in his throat and glanced in the driving mirror at her stiff little face. "Then you're the type to ask home to tea," he" tossed back. "And stop worrying!"

Ellesdora relaxed at last. She even smiled. But as they passed through the village and dipped down by Burnside House she felt herself growing taut again. Her lips tightened and her heart grew hard as she glanced at the windows of the house. She lowered her eyelids. She hated him and yearned for him at the same time. And it seemed so odd, so strange, for whatever he had planned with Rebecca there had been that close brief communication with him that had said something very different. A brief relapse, perhaps! She did not know. She only wished she could take refuge in the arms of Frank Fairless and stop the torture, but glancing at him, she knew that she could not. As well as everything else Nicholas Turk had spoilt her for any other man. She had been to a banquet and now nothing less would do. Her gaze went sadly out to the sea of bracken, the dark green fringe on the skyline, the still blue sky. Then she closed her eyes; she felt very tired.

Doris Nicholson looked a little taken aback when she saw the doctor and Ellesdora come into the hall and there was just a suspicion of mistrust in her eyes as she quickly followed Frank Fairless through the house to the kitchen. Ellesdora hung up her coat and waited nervously, for she could hear Doris's raised voice. But all was well. A moment later the doctor was back, his gaze significant. "We can manage tea very well on our own, can't we?" he laughed. "I'm afraid Doris was just going off. She has some appointment." "Of course. I'm not even hungry." Doris flashed by and Ellesdora tried to catch her eye, but it was impossible. Mrs. Nicholson had swooped by, her head held

haughtily, and now there was just the silence after the harsh slam of the door. Frank Fairless gathered his brow in a scowl, but then he was smiling again and saying, "Come into the drawing room, Ellesdora. There's a good fire and there's a trolley set for tea. I've just got to fill the pot." Ellesdora followed him into the large room overlooking the garden and the main road, and at once she was smiling. It was a beautiful room with orange velvet curtains and a dark gold carpet. She noticed an antique lamp with an amber bowl and one or two elegant pieces of furniture. But most of all she noticed that the trolley for tea had been set for two.... Doris, no doubt, and the doctor! Just for a moment she was sorry she had come; she liked Doris Nicholson and she guessed how the woman felt about Frank Fairless. "Sit down, Ellesdora. Make yourself comfortable. Relax... there's the television if you want it. It's colour." "Doctor Fairless," Ellesdora began quickly, before he could turn to go, "do you really think you'll be able to get me that bungalow?" He walked slowly back into the room. "I'll do my best," he said in a low intimate voice, and reached out to catch her hands in his own. "We must do our best for each other, Ellesdora.... And so for a start, you'll call me Frank. I don't care much for the carbolic touch." For the first time Ellesdora noticed his eyelids, the way they drooped with a lazy sensuality, and she did not like the habit. Nor did she like the significance in his eyes, but she managed to swallow, down her distaste and say quite brightly, "Of course,

Frank ... I want to stay if possible." She gave a little laugh. "I'll lose face if I've got to go back to town !" "You won't need to go back. I'll make it good for you, Ellesdora." He drew her a little closer. Then the telephone rang shrilly through the house; with a sense of relief, Ellesdora moved away, and after excusing himself, Frank Fairless hurried out of the room, a frown of impatience on his face now. Ellesdora stood 'by the fire, gazing down into it, wondering What she had let herself in for now, wondering if the doctor had got an urgent call and rather hoping he had. Intently she listened. "Hello there!" "Nicholas Turk! This is a surprise." "Been overdoing it, then?" "Who?" "Oh, I see.... Damn it, old fellow, what have you been getting up to?" "Look, I can't discuss this at the moment. Could you come across later ... give me a couple of hours." "Don't be silly. You know me. I don't go in for tragedy." Ellesdora started as She heard the receiver drop back in place. So Nicholas knew the doctor quite well! And now he was ringing up about Rebecca! That was obvious. He would want to discuss the matter with a friend. They seemed to know each other well enough. She drew a deep breath and tried to calm her rage.

"An old friend," Frank Fairless laughed as he came back into the room. "I haven't had a chat with Nicholas for long enough. And now he's got tied up with a girl." He stood frowning and rubbing his hands together. "The poor fellow's really shaken. Serve him right, he should have continued to steer clear of the fair sex. He was always warning me in the old days." He stared down at the trolley. "Damn, I still haven't filled that pot," he laughed. "Never mind, I'll be back in a moment. Pull those chairs up close, Ellesdora. Make yourself at home." There were delicate sandwiches and home-made cakes and honey and Ellesdora gradually began to relax. Frank Fairless loved to talk about himself, so she let him. Soon she had learnt that he had been the only son of wealthy parents and that he had been more or less pushed into medical school. Yet for all his sophistication and conceit the man had a kindly streak and although Ellesdora was not in the least attracted to him, she felt that She could trust him. When he had finished talking, she told him something of her own life. Her father, she informed him, was a teacher and her mother had been a teacher before she married. In short, she belonged to a large family of brothers and sisters and had lived in a long street with them all until she had gone off to training school. "And so your friends don't think you'll last very long in the hills," Frank Fairless smiled as he sat back with his cup and saucer in his hands, his legs comfortably outstretched before the fire. "They certainly don't," Ellesdora retorted. "Still, I suppose we've all got to lose face some time or other in our lives." "I never thought old Nicholas would," the doctor laughed absently. "And now the beggar's got himself involved with some chit of a farm girl." He glanced up at Ellesdora's flushed face. "But we'll not talk about Nicholas." His eyebrows rose provocatively. "You tell

me you're an old-fashioned girl." He set down his tea cup and saucer and leaning forward eyed Ellesdora curiously. Swallowing hard again, Ellesdora nodded. "That's right." "Well, that's something I can guarantee to cure." His eyes burned wickedly. "And now that you've finished your tea, come and sit beside me." He patted the arm of his chair. "Come on," he insisted mischievously. "I don't eat girls." Ellesdora looked at him with a Shock of mistrust again. Was he serious? He patted the arm of the chair again and she knew that he was. "I haven't finished my tea yet," she insisted as she turned bright red and frantically reached for another cake. "I can wait." He spoke lightly, then he got up and crossing the room he paused behind Ellesdora's chair to give her long hair a playful little tug. "Do you like music ?" he asked. "I have some rather good tapes." "Oh, yes, I certainly do." Anything to distract his attention, she thought quickly. "Classic or pop?" "Both really, but I love Beethoven." "Do you really! Then we have something in common." He glanced out of the window. "It's getting dark already," he told her, "the nights are certainly cutting in, but then we are into November." He glanced back. "Are you warm?" he asked, and he was smiling again.

Ellesdora nodded and with an affectation of hunger, nibbled at her cake. "Warm and young ... and suddenly very hungry." He rubbed the corner of his nose and turned to smile out into the darkness again. Ellesdora drank her tea and stared into the fire then she heard the curtains being drawn and the room was suddenly filled with soft music. Frank Fairless sank down on his chair again and watched her lazily for a while. Then in a half mocking,, half tantalizing voice, he murmured, "Come and sit on my knee, Ellesdora. I'd like that." Her voice croaked with embarrassment as she turned away from his amused eyes. "I'm perfectly comfortable here," she told him. "I'm too comfortable to move." "That's not very complimentary, Ellesdora." He sat forward a little, caught her eyes with his own. "Am I so repulsive ?" "Of course not," she struggled on. "But really, this is silly." And contrary to her words she began to move very uncomfortably in her seat. "What's so silly about a man wanting a girl like you to sit on his knee ?" "I don't know. It's just silly." Her voice had an edge to it now. He leant back again. "You know, there is something rather quaint about you, Ellesdora," he went on in a soft caressing tone. "When you stare at me with those big wide yellow eyes I almost feel intimidated myself." He got up slowly and with one stride reached Ellesdora and bending down he took her hands and firmly drew her to her feet. "I'm afraid I must agree with the villagers," he said

in an undertone, "because you do have some kind of magic. You draw me, Ellesdora." There was nothing she could do but suffer the indignity, she told herself. Nothing at all, if she was to get the bungalow. And the man was harmless, merely vain, conceited where women were concerned. It was worth it, she decided, to get away from the Willis family. She even smiled a little, secretly; at any moment he would get the message and throw her aside with an angry curse of frustration; she could feel the desperation welling up in him. But Ellesdora did not know Frank Fairless at all, and he did not curse and give up. He enjoyed an amorous struggle, and he finally found Ellesdora's stiff unyielding lips and pressed his message home with his own. Shocked, Ellesdora fought free; he was a bit too bad. Then she was on the floor and in a most ungainly fashion, and above her, laughing down at her, stood the doctor. But he laughed too loud and too long and so neither of them heard the drawing room door open. But they heard, a voice say very gravely, "I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't expect...." Ellesdora staggered on to her feet and with shock in her eyes she stared across the room to the figure in the doorway. It was Nicholas Turk! And never in her life had Ellesdora seen such contempt in a man's eyes. "Hello there, Nicholas!" Frank Fairless was in complete possession of himself almost at once. "Come in," he waved, "don't stand there gaping, man. Let me fix you a drink. And come and meet my new nurse." He chuckled significantly. "She's called Ellesdora. Rather charming, don't you think ?"

"We've met." Nicholas's voice was curt and cold as he flashed Ellesdora a look of angry disdain. "And my business can wait. I'm only sorry I butted in." He raised his hand to his brow for a moment, almost as though to steady his thoughts, then he rushed on, "I don't want that drink, Frank. I'm going." "Good lord, what's wrong, man? You know me well enough. Why look so outraged?" "I'll see you some other time," Nicholas flung with a sudden vehemence, then spun round on his heel and hurried off. "Just a minute, Nicholas." Frowning now, Frank Fairless strode out of the room after him. "You're not going off like this?" Ellesdora heard him exclaim. "Good lord, man, what have I done?" Ellesdora heard Frank Fairless chuckle again as she stood perfectly still, hardly breathing, as though in some terrible spell She could not break. Then with a Shaking hand she smoothed back her hair; she bit her lip, tried desperately to stem the hysteria inside her. She had never felt so cheap, so silly ... or so misunderstood. She gritted her teeth, remembering that She was the one who should have been outraged. At the sight of Nicholas Turk she should have been the one to stamp off. Even with his wonderful golden head, Nicholas was the dark horse. He had really got a girl in a fix! He deserved to marry Rebecca; they deserved each other. With these thoughts hurtling through her mind, Ellesdora suddenly gave a little cry and covered her face with her hands. "He'll soon recover," Frank Fairless said, and grinned like some vaudeville actor as he came back into the room. "It's your eyes, you know," he told Ellesdora as he hastily poured himself a drink. "They've even scared off my old pal."

"What did he come about?" Ellesdora probed warily, affecting a yawn. "He didn't say, he never got a chance." The doctor turned to gaze at her with an almost critical light in his dark eyes. He liked the girl's refinement, her slender waist, her wide innocent eyes. .. perhaps he had rushed her. He said nothing for a moment, drained his glass thoughtfully. "Nicholas Turk is a good man," he said slowly, then laughed again, "but he's no damn good with women. I knew he'd get involved one day." Ellesdora's eyelids drew down. How wrong the doctor was. How wonderful Nicholas had been! And with a rush of emotion she knew that even if he was the father of Rebecca's unborn child, she still loved him; nothing could stop her. Nothing could stop her from thinking about him either, or wanting him. "I'd like to go now," she whispered. "Will you drive me back, Frank?" "Must you go?" She nodded. He set down his glass. "Well, I really wasn't getting very far, was I ?" he laughed, his old humour back. "All right, Nurse, I'll drive you back. But you must come again." He raised his eyebrows. "Promise?" She smiled back at him. "Of course." And with his arm about her shoulder, they walked out into the hall and as he watched Ellesdora put on her coat, he cheered her with, "I'll give that friend of mine a ring about the bungalow tonight."

Their gaze collided and he chuckled throatily and squeezed her arm and said,. "We mightn't be disturbed there, Ellesdora." She smiled faintly and headed for the door, anxious to be off, not wanting to say anything to spoil her chance of getting the bungalow, but feeling wrung with unhappiness at the same time. "You'll certainly do it justice !" She did not answer him.

Half an hour later, she stepped out of the doctor's car and got into her own which was parked near the village' green. They had driven in silence for most of the way, a painful silence for Ellesdora, and they had parted without a smile and only troubled eyes. Deep down, she knew, Frank Fairless was feeling just a little ridiculous. She knew too that he would not rest until his manly pride was restored. As she drove slowly by the green she tried to harden her heart against all men, the silly vain men, the deceivers ... the men who took you up and threw you down. Emotion welled in her throat. Then Ellesdora saw the tree and at once her unhappy thoughts dispersed; now shock held her in an icy vacuum; she could only Stare. The lights of the car had picked up the silver birch and it seemed that the slim trunk had taken on the shape of a girl's body... a young girl, proud, erect and defiant. And all about the girl the foliage of the tree hung and shimmered. Ellesdora forced her gaze away from the tree and gripping the steering wheel she tried to calm her quivering nerves. She had seen nothing but the tree, she told herself hysterically.... Nothing but the tree; it had been an illusion! There was no girl there... no ghost.

But all the same all the old fears were back and she was still shaking when she reached the humped bridge across the water. Drive on, a voice inside her urged, drive on and don't stop until you reach the city. Don't stop here in this mad place a moment longer. But then common sense reminded her that she had just sufficient petrol in the tank to get her back to the farm and that she was being utterly stupid. There had been no ghost of the witch Ellesdora; there had just been an ordinary birch tree made beautiful by moonlight. She was worked up because Nicholas Turk had seen her in the arms of Frank Fairless, upset because she had seen him standing there in the doorway like December, his face dark and ruthless, consolidating, so it seemed, all forces against her. Ellesdora's mouth tightened and the lump rose in her throat again. Or was it that he had just been foiled; that he had guessed that she would not be going back to Burnside House that night? Had he just been so very worried about his Rebecca ? Ellesdora's thoughts battled on and then, above them, she heard the engine cut out. She had run out of petrol! The worst had happened. She sat back and gasped with alarm. There was nothing she could do but walk back to the farm. Mercifully, it was moonlight. Walking hastily up the fell road, Ellesdora felt as though she was the only one left on earth. There was no sound, no stirring, just one cold planet above her and one at her feet. But a silvery sheen lay over everything and the thistles, fluffy and white in their autumn seeding, sat up like rabbits along the verges. As she walked, she began to count them. Suddenly she stopped counting and stood still, listening, listening intently ... and her skin began to creep.

She heard it again... that faint melancholy calling across the moors. Like a statue she stood listening for it again. Leaving her almost insensible with fear the sound came again, 'Ellesdora... Ellesdora!' Suddenly she saw a car winding its way up from the village below and almost cried out with relief. Someone was coming! She was not all alone in a barren wilderness haunted by her own name. With fast beating heart, She watched the car approach, then she began to run down the road to meet it. It was Nicholas Turk's car! Ellesdora stopped dead. In the moonlight her face looked white and stained. Nicholas called from the window, "What's wrong now, Nurse? Have you run out of petrol?" Ellesdora stared back at him, unable to speak for a moment, still hearing her name. "Yes," she said at last, "I was just going to walk back." He did not bother to get out of the car and they glared at each other with hostile eyes through the car window. "You've soon got back from Scarlet House," he called, and his mouth twisted jeeringly. "I'm sorry I disturbed you, but I can at least give you a lift." She got in the car and sat silent. "I forgot about my old friend's little eccentricities," he said deliberately. "But I hardly expected to find you there." "No, I don't suppose you did. You'd planned something else for me, hadn't you?" Hating herself, she spat the words out as though she was fighting with tooth and claw. She loved him so much, but

all she wanted to do was hurt him. "You had something very different lined up for me, hadn't you? Yes, something all planned...." She knew she was repeating herself. "Sometimes I thank all women are crazy," Nicholas said through clenched teeth. Sick with loneliness, sick from having a man who had been capable of deceiving her, making a fool of her, Ellesdora stared ahead, her eyes hard on the road. "Well," she snapped, beside herself, "aren't you going to ask me what it was like?" "What do you mean ?" "I mean, What it was like making love to Doctor Fairless?" She heard him curse and she knew his face was dark with rage, rage at being foiled. And she was pleased. Or at least Ellesdora thought she was, but somewhere inside her there was a strong and sickening contradiction. She glanced at his Stiff, set jaw. "Did you really think I'd want to stay down there with you?" she sneered. "What! You're far too old-fashioned, Mr. Turk." She laughed shrilly. "You were even going to send for a chaperon." "I would put you out of this car now," he said steadily, "but as it happens I'm going to Ravenscleugh." "And not before time," Ellesdora shot back. "I should think Rebecca's parents are anxious to have a chat with you." He let out a cruel chuckle. "Right first time," he told her. "They are very anxious to see me. That's why I'm going." They said no more until they reached the stackyard and Ellesdora got out and slammed the door shut.

"One word of advice," said Nicholas, catching her arm and swinging her round. "Don't overdo your act with Frank Fairless. Those soft eyes of yours won't stop him. He's a good doctor, but ruthless Where women are concerned." His mouth curved sneeringly. "You'll soon find out that there's one girl in trouble around here, and that's enough, I should say." So it was true! Miserably, Ellesdora stared back at his wonderful green eyes, his wonderful mouth... then turning swiftly, made a dash for the house. All She had left was her pride, and she had to hang on to that. In the kitchen she could hear Mrs. Willis's voice raised in a heartbroken wail. So on tiptoe, Ellesdora made her way to the staircase. Rebecca had broken the news!

CHAPTER EIGHT ON the landing upstairs Ellesdora paused for breath. Mrs. Willis was still crying out her unhappy protestations. That poor black hen! What it was responsible for! Ellesdora's mouth twisted; she could not believe it. She went on to her room and after firmly closing the door sat down on a hard wooden chair. Mrs. Willis had nothing to worry about; Nicholas intended to marry her daughter. She realized that now. But it was still all so hard to believe. A trivial, light- hearted affair with the girl, yes ... but not this! Ellesdora's whole face twisted now as hope, like a last trembling leaf, fluttered and lay dead. She got up, began to wander desolately about the room. Back at the hospital the girls had always told her that she knew nothing about men, and now she believed them. She bit down her lip to stem her tears; she would never have dreamt.... Dispelling her thoughts, she suddenly straightened her back and crossed the room to the window. She raised troubled eyes to the moon, a melancholy candle itself and just about to be snuffed out by a great bunchy black cloud. Again she turned back into the room and with a sigh from her heart hurried to switch on. the light. Then, just as she turned back into the room again, she caught sight of her reflection in the long wardrobe mirror and cried out at the sight of herself. She looked so awful! So white, so deathly! Plainer than ever, with craggy bird-like features. Only the eyes remained the same... enormous and melon yellow in the electric light. Melon eyes! Again Ellesdora's mouth twisted with her thoughts. And how fast her heart was beating, abnormally fast. But perhaps she was abnormal? A witch? She moved in and studied herself closer. Yes, she looked like some kind of witch! The kind that cast spells over other girls'

lovers. A mean witch who did her best to break up affairs. A jealous witch ! Suddenly she covered her face with her hands and gasped. Perhaps she was the reincarnated Ellesdora. It was the maddest idea, but it stuck. And then more ridiculous thoughts jostled in Ellesdora's brain. There had been someone calling out there on the moors. She had heard her name whispered on the wind more than once. And now Ellesdora caught her breath, her trembling hand leapt up to her heart. Had the old Ellesdora been warning her? Had she been warning her to keep away from Nicholas Turk all the time? She pulled herself up, held her wild thoughts in check; she straightened and reproved herself for giving away to morbid selfpity and disappointment. She would have a long luxurious soak, she decided, fix her hair and give Molly a ring at Hare House. Havenfield had its eccentrics, but there were still plenty of normal people around. And there was Doctor Fairless... Frank! She'd be grateful to him if he managed to get the bungalow for her. At last she grew calm and picking up her large plastic bag and towel she made her way to the bathroom. Then she saw Percy Willis coming up the stairs and stopped to wait for him. But his dark head was well down and his tread heavy and she looked at him in dismay; she had not expected him to be so upset about his sister. "Hello," she said softly. "Hello," he returned gruffly, but there was no glinting flirtatious light in his blue eyes now. He looked very troubled indeed and Ellesdora's heart was touched with the young farmer's concern for his sister.

"So you've heard the glad tidings," she said, forcing a little laugh. "Rebecca's spilled the beans." Percy grimaced. "Nicholas Turk is down there," he said sullenly. "He's going to do something about it." "So he should!" "I don't see why." Ellesdora tightened up again. "Well, I do!" "It's good of him." "Good of him?" Frowning, Ellesdora watched Percy thud off to his bedroom, then she went on to the bathroom. "Good of him!" she repeated, and her face twisted disdainfully. Much later, when all was quiet in the house, she crept downstairs for her cigarettes which she had left in the kitchen. At first she thought there was no one in the kitchen at all, then she saw Mrs. Willis sitting very still and very silent on a high-backed chair by the dresser. The sight of her statue-like figure gave Ellesdora a jolt; she had never seen the woman looking so grey or so old. "I just want my cigarettes, Mrs. Willis," Ellesdora said softly, not wishing to disturb the woman. But something made her look again. "Are you all right?" she asked with a rush of concern. "Is there anything I can do? I could make you a cup of tea?" The woman shook her head. "There's plenty been done here," she said greyly. "And I've come to the end of my tether. You may as well know, Nurse, Rebecca's expecting ... and more fool her." She

drew a great sighing breath and extended, "Mr. Turk's taking her away for a while. It's the best thing." Her brow furrowed up angrily. "I don't want her here." Ellesdora's own tearing disappointment seemed momentarily eclipsed by the woman's obvious grief and shock. "The kettle's boiling," she said encouragingly. "Do have a drink, Mrs. Willis. And let me put a hot water bottle in your bed. And don't look so heartbroken. It isn't as though your daughter's been deserted." Before Ellesdora could finish, Mrs. Willis had shot on to her feet like a ramrod. "I don't want you to do anything for me," she hissed, and the old vehemence was back in her bold eyes, the old accusation. "I said I'd take you in, to help a bit, and I'll keep my word ... but the moment I saw you I knew there'd be nothing but trouble." Swallowing hard, Ellesdora backed away. "Your breakfast will be on the table at eight," Mrs. Willis said between her teeth. "Goodnight, Nurse." Upstairs again, Ellesdora slammed her door shut. Her temper was really hot now. She definitely wasn't staying. She'd pack her bags now and be gone before breakfast. She had a home and a wonderful father and mother who would both be indignant had they known how she was being treated. She paced the room, drew hard on her cigarette, shrugged her shoulders. She didn't care a damn for any of them now. She was going. Yes, before eight, she'd be gone for good. And soon, well away from Havenfield, she'd be herself again, a light-hearted, conscientious nurse. She was getting melancholy; beginning to hear things. As for Mrs. Willis and her superstition ! With a fresh rush of rage, Ellesdora slammed down the lid of her case. Then she locked the door and went to bed.

She slept badly, being tormented by all kinds of fears and strange yearnings, but next morning she was up and ready before seven. She decided to creep down, make herself a cup of tea and if there was still no one around, telephone Doctor Fairless. But there would be no changing her mind. She had suffered enough humiliation. But just as Ellesdora picked up the receiver, the telephone rang, and to her amazement it was the doctor. "Good morning, Doctor," she began waveringly, "I was just about to telephone you. I'm afraid I'm leaving. I'm going back to town ... I'm not happy here at Havenfield." "Of course you're not. And that's why I'm ringing, Nurse. I've just had an early call and I must go out at once, but I thought I'd let you have the good news. The bungalow is yours, my dear. It's furnished and you can move in at once. So your troubles are over." "But, Doctor..." "Darling, I must go...." Darling! Ellesdora frowned with annoyance. "But...." He would not let her go on. "I'll leave the key at the Black Raven," he said rapidly. "No buts. Do as you're told. I've really put myself out." "I know ... I...." "I know I shouldn't have troubled." His voice was jesting and yet still silky with insinuation. "But we did want the place, didn't we?" We! Ellesdora bit her lip, her cheeks flamed red.

"Pack your bags and get down there." "All right," she whispered. "All right, Doctor. Thank you." Ten minutes later, Ellesdora was back in her uniform and outside in the yard with her cases. Mr. Willis was standing by the gate contemplating the day, slowly winding up some binder twine. "You can tell them that I'm not coming back," Ellesdora said loftily. "I've got a place of my own, Mr. Willis, so I'll not be troubling you any longer." "Ellen's always troubled," Mr. Willis returned with a dour look. "And you're off? Well, I can't say I blame you, lass. Good luck to you." Ellesdora turned on the ignition, the car moved off and she did not look back until she was well down the fell road. She had, she decided, time to visit three patients before calling at the Black Raven. And there'd be food to get in, she hadn't to forget that. But the idea of having a place was growing on her and she was already beginning to feel happier. Frank Fairless was a bit of a devil, but harmless, she fancied, more conceited and vain than anything else. And now she would be able to invite her mother and friends to the bungalow. Her mother could come for a holiday. It would be lovely. Pleasant thoughts waltzed around Ellesdora's brain, but even then she knew that Nicholas Turk still lurked in the background. He was always there; she could not stop thinking about him. And so he was taking Rebecca off to London! She reached the village and the green and for some reason found herself averting her eyes from the silver birch; like the villagers now, she felt she could not look at it.

It was a nice autumn morning and after giving two very friendly patients their injections and calling in to see another old man who lived alone, Ellesdora once again began to imagine she had dreamt everything up. But no, as she passed Harriet Scandel's cottage she saw the curtain twitch, and Mrs. Armstrong's door was shut tight; she could get no answer there. Molly Young was her usual bright self and delighted to see Ellesdora. "Come in," the widow called. "How are you getting on? Getting used to us all now?" Ellesdora laughed and told Molly the news. "Rebecca's pregnant," she said to the point. "And I've moved out. Doctor Fairless has got me a bungalow. It's not far from here." "I know it," Molly answered thoughtfully. "And I'm not surprised to hear about Rebecca. She was a little villain where the lads were concerned long before Mr. Turk arrived here." "I hope they'll be happy," Ellesdora forced over a contradictory lump in her throat. "He's taking her off to London." Doris laughed. "I wonder why! In these days I didn't think Ma bothered to get you off post-haste when the worst had happened." She stirred the tea in the pot. "My guess is that Rebecca's taking Mr. Turk off to London post-haste... in case he changes his mind." "Oh, good heavens, surely not!" Ellesdora felt her face burning. "He must be in love with the girl."

"Oh, Nurse !" Molly frowned down at Ellesdora, but her eyes were full of amusement. "He must be twice her age. The man's been lonely." "No." Ellesdora shook her head. "Nicholas Turk wouldn't be lonely on a desert island. He has too much going on in his mind." "All right." Molly shrugged her shoulders and handed the tea over to Ellesdora. "Have it your own way, but I know what loneliness can drive you to." Ellesdora looked up. "You're not going to call me Nurse, are you?" she said with a little scowl, "I'd like to think I had one friend around here." "Drink your tea. You'll have plenty soon, you'll see." Molly winked as she began to fold up some washing. "I don't suppose Doctor Fairless still calls you Nurse. I know his type too." "You seem to know an awful lot, Molly." "Girl, I've lived!" Ellesdora pulled a face. "All I seem to have done is work." "We'll have a good night out. What about going down to town on your day off, Ellesdora? And if you want a hand with anything along at the bungalow just give me the wire." Ellesdora stood up. "I feel better already," she laughed. "And that reminds me, I'm on the way to pick up the key. I'll give you a ring." "Good."

They chatted to the door and in a few moments Ellesdora was in the car and driving off to the Black Raven. Surely, she thought painfully, surely Molly was wrong. A man like Nicholas Turk could never have been driven to a girl like Rebecca Willis out of sheer loneliness. Surely she hadn't arrived on the scene just too late ! There was no one in the Black Raven and the dour barman gave Ellesdora the key without a word. And because she knew what he was thinking she did not thank him. She just swung away and bumped into Nicholas Turk coming in the door. For. an instant the memory of their embrace hung between them; their eyes, their parted lips said so; Ellesdora was sure of it. They would never forget. ... She would never forget. Then he was taking her arm determinedly and steering her back into the room towards a small table by the window. "I've got to talk to you," he said under his breath. "I must know what's going on." Ellesdora felt herself being pressed forcibly on to a chair; breathless, she faced him with eyes full of unhappy defiance. Then, dropping her gaze, she caught sight of the curling tufts of hair below his cuffs; the flash of the expensive links. He was wearing a fine tan and green herringbone suit and he looked immaculate and obviously he was going away. Perhaps he was going to apologize to her. The thought made her sit up and draw back. "You're going away?" she faltered. "I know. I've heard." He nodded.

"There's something I would like you to know, just in case you've got the wrong idea, Mr. Turk." She took a deep breath. "I did not mutilate your canvases. I never went near your studio. If you think I did, then I'd like you to inform the police." He raised his hand and a heavy wave of golden hair lopped over his furrowed brow. "I don't get you," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I don't understand. Never for one moment did I imagine you had done such a thing. You must know that! Ellesdora, what is it ? What have I done to...." his brow lowered and his eyes were accusing... "to make you rush off and make a fool of yourself with Frank Fairless? The village idiot knows what a fool he is ... I mean with women." "I don't think he'd go out of his way to deceive them," Ellesdora returned haughtily, her eyes full of disdain. He leant forward, searched Ellesdora's face. "You're not making sense," he said in a harsh undertone. "And I want sense, Ellesdora. I'm not used to this kind of treatment." The wonderful green eyes flashed angrily and Ellesdora sat back to glare at him across the table. Then she humped up her slim shoulders, twisted her mouth and flung across at him, "I suppose you'd like me neatly filed and put away. Perhaps you've even got a guilty conscience about me now. Did you deceive your little Rebecca, then ?" She watched him fall back with outraged, pained eyes. But again in a flash the anger was back in them. "Just what has Rebecca had to say this time?" he demanded, and again he was leaning across the table, scanning her face, scowling. "Just what has been going on between you two girls?" He threw back his head with a gesture

of sheer exasperation. "God!" he said, "I'm doing my best for the girl." "So you should !" Ellesdora's eyes blazed into his. "Oh, yes, she's in a highly vulnerable state ... liable to hysteria. You must know that, and yet you still listen to her nonsense." Again he leant over the table to scrutinize Ellesdora's livid face. "Ellesdora!" he said in a lowered tone, "I'd planned something very different from this. You must believe me." She turned bright red and stood up. "Only your timing was wrong," she pitched at him. "But it helps, I'll tell you this, Nicholas..." she had not intended to use his Christian name. "I had intended to come back to Burnside House that night." She could not go on, she could not look at him knowing that he was soon to go out of her life for ever. But Nicholas caught her at the door and gripping her arm so that she winced he led her out into the clear morning air. "Look," he said while she struggled, "I've got to go, but I'm coming back to lock the house up at Hallowe'en. We'll see each other then, Ellesdora. We'll straighten this mess out." "Now you don't make sense," she struck out at him. "And what's more, I'm beginning to feel sorry for Rebecca Willis. You may not believe me, but if the word's old-fashioned, I'm just that. And I intend to stay that way!" She took a step forward, but he blocked her way and gripping her wrists forced her to look up into his fierce, penetrating eyes. "I'll be back at Hallowe'en," he said, still staring hard as though he were trying to search her mind.

"We'll see each other then. We've got to see each other." Her eyes were grave with distrust; she could not speak. Did he really imagine they could still carry on.... She turned her head away from him, averting her eyes. Oh, no, how could he ! "Ellesdora, how could I help responding to a girl like you?" He tugged her hands a little, forced her attention again. "Ellesdora, there's something you don't understand." Struggling, she freed herself and hotly now she faced him. "I don't want to understand," she blurted out. "There's nothing to understand, Mr. Turk. I just hope that you'll be happy, that's all." Scanning her face, searching her eyes, he said in an undertone, "Will you be happy, Ellesdora?" The tone of his voice disturbed her and just for a moment she thought she would weaken. "Nicholas," she whispered, and then gathering all her strength of mind, she swung round on her heel and with a wavering "Goodbye," ran off. With men like that, she decided, as she drove off, a girl had to make a stand. To marry Rebecca and then creep back to see her... ? It was contemptible, to say the least. And thank God, it was easier to hate than to regret. Somehow she had to start hating Nicholas Turk. Either that or give up all her brave morals.

The bungalow with its blue-tiled roof stood out like a single bright flower on the dark fell slope about a mile east of the village. At once Ellesdora loved it. The lounge was fitted with a deep blue carpet and there was an enormous lime-coloured sofa and one or two elegant chairs. The kitchen was a dream in white and

primrose, and after a quick look round, Ellesdora chose a large bedroom with a violet carpet and white fitted furniture for herself. The place was fabulous! With rising spirits she ran off to fetch her cases. She was really grateful to Doctor Fairless; she forgave him for everything. Her eyelids lowered and for a moment her throat was full. But she could never forgive Nicholas Turk. He was the hypocrite ! But the bungalow was cheering and Ellesdora hurried back with her cases and turned on the electric blanket so that the bed would be well aired. She felt elated; as she walked from one room to another she compiled mental lists of the friends she would invite; she would get ;a letter off to her mother at once. But all the time, something like a Greek chorus chanted at the back of her brain. 'Only three weeks to Hallowe'en ... only three weeks... Nicholas Turk will be back at Hallowe'en.' And then the telephone rang and with a little cry of delight, Ellesdora ran off to find it. It was in the large square hall, standing on a small carved table holding an enormous vase full of coloured grasses. She picked up the receiver. "Hello!" "Oh, Doctor Fairless! Yes, I'm in. And it's super. I can't thank you enough." She caught her breath. "I'm going off on a course for the next week or two, Ellesdora," she heard him say. "But we'll make up for it when I get back. There's a Hallowe'en dinner I'd like to take you to. Will you come ?" "Hallowe'en?"

"Yes. You know, when all the souls of the dead are supposed to stir abroad." He laughed. "A night for witches, Ellesdora." She drew a deep breath. "Hello?" "Yes?" "I thought you'd gone. Are you all right?" "Of course. I'll be perfectly all right now, Doctor." "Doctor?" "Frank." "That's better. I deserve that, don't I?" She laughed nervously. "Yes, you do." "Then you'll come to the Hallowe'en dinner with me?" "Yes, I'd love that." "Good girl!" She scowled at the receiver. She wished he would not keep calling her 'good girl'. "If you're lonely come over and see Doris. In any case she'll keep you informed. There's a doctor on call." "Thank you." He chuckled softly. "Thank you, Nurse. Good morning."

Ellesdora pulled her mouth. The 'Nurse' obviously meant Doris had walked into his office. Men! Still, Frank Fairless only made her laugh; he didn't torment her. But Nicholas Turk did; suddenly she felt wildly wretched again. And what an age it suddenly seemed to Hallowe'en!

But Ellesdora was wrong; the days went by in rapid strides and the weather changed. The nights grew longer and the wind swung round to the north-east. There was a frost in the mornings and the trees were like grey ghosts. Only a robin twittered in the garden outside; only a brave little robin trying to ignore the sad bleakness of the countryside just before winter. But Ellesdora began to get to know her patients and her heart even warmed towards some of her patients. She saw Molly Young quite often; they confided in each other and spent one or two afternoons in town together. "The folks in the village go a bit crazy on the night of Hallowe'en," Molly told Ellesdora one night when they were having supper together at Hare House. "I generally keep out of the way. They're apt to get carried away, drink too much. In any case I can't stand all those turnip lanterns and hideous witches' hats and masks. They certainly frighten me, even if they don't scare the spooks!" "Is that why they have them?" Ellesdora didn't know much about Hallowe'en. "Do they really believe that there are lost souls still lurking about?" Molly laughed. "The mad fringe certainly does... I think the rest just join in and get carried away. But it's one night in the year when I definitely refuse to wander abroad."

"You must believe it, then," Ellesdora teased, and feeling so much at home in Molly's farmhouse, she got up to pour herself another cup of tea. "I don't take risks at my age," Molly laughed back. "I don't intend to die of a heart attack for nothing." "I'll be safe enough too," Ellesdora returned gravely, and watching for Molly's reaction. "Doctor Fairless has invited me out to dinner that night." Molly pulled a face. "Has he now!" she said. "Well, I'm certainly pleased to hear that. You can't go on fretting over Nicholas Turk for ever. It's no good, Ellesdora. I know men. And I've seen him. He'll marry the little bitch; he'll stand by her, whatever happens." "Of course. And Rebecca certainly loves him. I'll say that for her. She'd fight to the death for him." "I know." Molly turned away. "It seems ridiculous, though, doesn't it? I mean, a man like that could have had any girl." She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Still, we're all a bit cranky. There's never any- accounting for taste." She frowned at Ellesdora. "Just look what Doctor Fairless has done for you, and you can't stand the sight of him." "I didn't say that." Ellesdora stood up. "You worry too much," she laughed. "You're reading things into the script, Molly. I'm not heartbroken, if that's what you're imagining." After that, Molly said nothing and got on with her ironing. Ellesdora aimlessly turned through some magazines, then looked at her watch and decided it was time to go.

Driving back through the village on her way back to the bungalow she again found herself turning away from the silver birch which, in the moonlight, sprang like a fountain from its dark base. She could not look at that tree! And the village itself still intimidated her. It looked innocent enough with all the lights shining from the cottage windows, curtains drawn, cosy. But she wondered what Harriet Scandel was doing behind her door. And they had never allowed her to clap her eyes on the new baby yet. Molly was right, Ellesdora tried to assure herself; it was just the mad fringe that she found upsetting. The moment she got into the bungalow the telephone rang. Breathlessly she picked up the receiver. It was Doctor Fairless. "Hello," Ellesdora breathed. "Yes, this is Nurse Lorraine." "Ellesdora!" His voice was full of delight. "I managed to get back a little earlier. How are you, my dear?" "I'm very well," she returned breathlessly. "I love the bungalow." "That's splendid. I knew you would. I'll pick you up about seven on Friday. All right ?" "Yes, yes, that will be lovely." "Good girl!" Ellesdora bit her lip and closed her eyes; suddenly she felt desperate. He'd said it again; she couldn't stand it. She was not a 'good girl'. She was a cheat! She'd been fighting, but now she was weakening, for the sound of the doctor's voice had made her want so much to hear Nicholas's voice again. Something welled up in her; she had to see him again;

she could barely hear what the doctor was saying; she could only think, only see Nicholas. "Ellesdora!" His voice was sharp. "Yes?" "I thought you'd gone ?" "No." "Are you sure you're all right?" Ellesdora jerked up, her thoughts flying off like a flock of starlings. "Yes, I'm perfectly all right," she assured with a forced laugh. "I was just thinking about Friday." "About what you'll wear, I suppose." He chuckled significantly. "I understand. Seven, then, Ellesdora." "Yes." "Goodbye." Slowly she put the receiver down. Tears rushed to her eyes. She felt full of frustration and tension and with a cry of temper she rushed back to her bedroom. Would he come back as he had promised? Would Nicholas come on the night of Hallowe'en? Or would Rebecca, hysterical and jealous, stop him? If she did, then she would never see Nicholas again. Distressed, she stood looking in the built-in dressing table mirror. The idea of never seeing him again shocked her; she looked white and drained and suddenly very desolate. And what she wanted to do least of all was to go out to dinner with Frank Fairless. What She should have done was force Nicholas Turk to stay; force him to betray Rebecca Willis.

And She could have done, it was in her; she knew that now. And if she got one more chance.... Ellesdora covered her face with her hands. If there could only be one more chance. She'd be a witch all right. There was no compassion in her, she told herself, and turned back to the mirror to scowl at the white face that looked back at her. No compassion whatever; she didn't care any more about other people, just herself. But the next few days proved Ellesdora wrong; she cared for her patients and they kept her very busy with dressings, baths and injections and a multitude of personal problems. But on the Friday night her work was done and it was Hallowe'en and she'd, finished a little earlier and drove back to the bungalow, not with the idea of dressing for dinner, but with one hope in her heart, that Nicholas had called. Nicholas had not. There was no message, no sign whatever of anyone having been there. The bungalow was as silent as ever, and with a heavy heart and leaden limbs, Ellesdora forced herself to get ready to go out. She looked in the wardrobe and for a moment or two stood with a cynical smile on her lips. It was Hallowe'en ! And so she'd do her best to look like a witch she'd like to scare someone. She chose a black velvet midi skirt and a silk cerise blouse with enormous sleeves and long tight cuffs, high collar. She would wear her high glossy boots and loads of eye make-up! She suddenly laughed into the mirror, but it was a cold kind of laugh that did, not touch her eyes. She'd look the (kind of girl a rake would appreciate. Doctor Fairless had done her a favour and now she'd do him one. She'd look the kind of girl a rake wasn't wasting his time with. That would suit the doctor, pander to his vanity. She laughed again into the mirror, then went hurriedly to the bathroom.

At quarter to seven the telephone rang and with a fast beating heart, Ellesdora ran to answer it. Someone was having difficulty in getting through; waiting, she closed her eyes; she could hardly get her breath. But it was not Nicholas... nor was it Doctor Fairless. "Will you come down to the village," a shrill voice called. "There's been an accident." And after a gulp for breath, "Is that you, Nurse?" "Yes, this is Nurse Lorraine," Ellesdora answered almost as breathlessly. "What kind of an accident? Tell me quickly." "It's one of the children," the voice went on in a raised, agitated tone. "He's got a 'bad burn from one of the turnip lanterns. You'd better come quickly." "Of course. What's the boy's name? And where will I find him?" "Just come to the green, Nurse. We're keeping him warm. He's shocked like. But it's just his arm." Ellesdora frowned at the receiver. The caller had cut out. She glanced at her watch, then ran to the lounge and peered out of the window. There was no sign of the doctor's car. But something else caught her attention ... an illuminating flash far away in the eastern sky. Just for a moment it had silvered the rounded hilltops and with a feeling of sinking apprehension, because she had always been terrified of storms, Ellesdora stood watching... waiting until it came again. And it did. The purple hills leapt up and the flashes brightened. Somewhere far away came the approaching thunder with its ominous rumble.

She had to go; she couldn't stand there, afraid for herself. A child had just been injured; she couldn't stand and stare. And there was no time to change. And so Ellesdora ran out of the bungalow hoping that she would see the approaching lights of the doctor's car, but there was nothing, just the awful rumbling again in the night sky. She stood with fast beating heart by the car, listening, watching for the swift illumination again. It came, and then Ellesdora flung open the car door and hurried in, slamming it after her. Someone had told her you were quite safe in a car. At the bottom of the steep, sloping gravel drive she heard the thunder. It was far away, but she knew it was coming closer. Then the hills leapt out again and faded ... leapt and faded, and with a shaking hand she turned on the ignition. There was no time to lose. It was not very far to the village and Ellesdora drove as fast as she dared and when she got there she was surprised to see that almost everyone seemed to have congregated on the village green and that the whole dark place was lit up and alive with what looked like a swarm of madly dancing fireflies. Everyone seemed to be squealing and shouting and then, as she stopped the car, there was another white flash and she caught sight of the silver birch, and it seemed to writhe and toss and it passed through Ellesdora's mind that the wind had got up. Once again she felt afraid. But she picked up her nursing bag and getting out of the car quickly she then hurried across the green, calling, "Is the child who has been burned here? Is the woman here who telephoned me?" No one answered, but the lights danced madly about her and she looked around, bewildered. "I'm Nurse Lorraine," she called out again, sharply. "Where is the child who is injured?"

A dark shape leapt at her and she felt something being forced on to her head and with a great shudder she thrust it off and whirled round. "What are you doing?" Now her voice shook. Three dark shapes backed away and behind them another group of villagers, their faces rosy and grotesque in the light of the swinging lanterns, tittered and chuckled unpleasantly, and with a sudden feeling of foreboding Ellesdora felt her blood drain away. She knew in a flash—no child had been injured; everything had been arranged; they had planned to get her there. And with a helpless, desperate feeling, she stared back at them. Again someone tried to thrust something on her head and this time she snatched it down and with a little cry threw it to the ground. It was a witch's hat! Then everyone seemed to be dancing and shouting again and one of the lanterns picked up a face she recognized. It was Harriet Scandel's! Again a streak of white fire zig-zagged across the night sky and the thunder that accompanied it this time was like the splitting of one of the distant black crags. The crowd surged towards her. The lanterns swayed and she saw the hysteria in their frenzied faces. She saw Rebecca! Rebecca ? In confusion, Ellesdora stared at the girl, and with a shock that almost spun her off her feet she remembered her nightmare. She was reliving it—and it was just as horrific in every detail. They were pushing her back, thrusting her roughly towards the silver birch ... and there was treachery in their wild eyes. Then someone cried out, shrilly. It was Rebecca. "She made trouble for me," the girl screamed in an uncontrolled voice. "She put a spell on Nicholas Turk. She wanted him!" Her voice rose to a wail. "She's bewitched him!" A sympathetic mumbling ran through the crowd.

"Ay, she's a witch all right. She put the evil eye on my Sammy. She killed my cat." She was going mad! Ellesdora raised her hands to her face. This couldn't be real! But it was. She could see their faces, their burning suspicious eyes, their hatred. There was no escape... and all the time the lanterns went on swaying grotesquely. Then came the hush, the deadly, nerve-racking suspense as a shaft of brilliance transformed the green. At the same moment and like the wrath of the gods came the crash of thunder... and every lung was oppressed, every mind momentarily stunned. And then came the sharp cries of alarm, the shrieks of fear, and in shocked amazement Ellesdora followed the eyes of the crowd and saw to her horror that the silver birch, the strange fountain of beauty, had been struck and that it was burning like a great pyre... and on the dark Hallowe'en night it seemed that Ellesdora burned all over again. The lanterns had lowered and now Ellesdora felt a great fear clutch her; she moved to try to get away, but all eyes were on her again; frightened eyes this time. Suddenly she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and a deep masculine comforting voice said, "I don't like this. Quickly, Ellesdora. This way. Don't say anything." It was Nicholas! Strong fingers fettered her wrist. His voice was like a whiplash. The crowd moved back. Even amidst the horror of everything, a little shudder of joy ran through Ellesdora. "Oh, Nicholas!" she gasped. "Oh, I'm so glad

you came!" She looked up at his set jaw, the stern line ©f his profile and then his arm was about her shoulder and the strength of his body seemed to radiate into her own and she was no longer afraid. "I'll drive," he said firmly, and when they reached his car he quickly bundled Ellesdora into it. "Keep calm," he said, glancing back at the stirring crowd before he slid into the car himself. "We'll soon be out of this." But Ellesdora had lost her nerve and as they drove off she began to weep. "Well, go on, cry," he said gruffly. "I don't suppose you can help yourself." "I can't." She sniffled. "I'm sorry... I went to pieces ... I was so frightened." He drove with one hand and reached out to entwine his fingers about hers, but he did not speak. "It was the lightning," she faltered. "It set the tree on fire, Nicholas. That awful tree ! Did you see it?" "Of course." "Did you see their faces?" She began to whimper again. "Yes." She drew her hand away abruptly. "Rebecca was there ! What about Rebecca?" "She'll be all right now. I brought her back."

"And you'll both be going away again?" Swallowing hard and stemming her tears, Ellesdora felt a complete wreck. She turned away from him. "Both?" he questioned as they turned on to the narrow fell road. "I'll be going back to college, Ellesdora. My sister thinks Rebecca should definitely be with her mother." "Your sister?" She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice. "What has your sister to do with it? If I loved a man I wouldn't need his sister to tell me what to do." "You're not in Rebecca's condition." She watched, him tighten his lips and shake his head as though he did not quite know what to do for the best. "No, but if I was, I would certainly know what to do." He gave her a quick sceptical glance. "I suppose you would," he said in a short voice. "But let's have a little compassion. Rebecca Willis is very young and she has such a tragic complexity of character. She's emotionally unstable, and 'her mother doesn't help the situation. That's why I took the girl to stay with my sister. Delia's wonderful." His shoulders heaved. "Well, I thought she was until she told me not to be such a colossal idiot and to take the child back... to find the young man concerned and not confuse the poor girl any further." He laughed roughly. "I couldn't believe it." Boy concerned? Ellesdora felt a little light-headed. Her fingers tightened about Nicholas's. She turned to him, her eyes raised in some kind of entreaty, but she could not form her words, her lips trembled so much. Boy concerned! Then she had made one ghastly error. She had been fool enough to believe a hysterical immature girl. With a rush of emotion she dragged her hand from his and

covered her face. "Oh, Nicholas." she whispered, "I actually thought you were the father.... That's why I ran away from you." "What!" He Slowed the car down to walking pace. "For God's sake, Ellesdora! Just what kind of a man did you take me for? And all this time... This is ridiculous!" She went on swiftly while she felt brave enough to tell him. "I thought you'd gone off to marry Rebecca," she told him desperately. "Rebecca told me that she was pregnant and that she'd asked you to get me away from her because she was frightened of me ... and I believed her." Without a word, Nicholas drove the car on to the verge and turned down the lights. "So," he said as he switched off and turned to her, "that's why you didn't come back to Burnside House. And I've been thinking all this time that my old pal had stepped in." "Doctor Fairless? Oh, don't be silly !" "It seems we've both been more than silly, Ellesdora." They were silent for a moment, then Nicholas caught her hands into his own and drew her a little closer and the contact of his hard masculine fingers made Ellesdora's face glow with a strange almost luminous light. She felt as though she had reached the end of a dark tunnel where the sun shone and she murmured softly, then his lips were on her cheek, her throat. "Oh, Nicholas!" She buried her face on his jacket sleeve and closed her eyes as in silence he gently massaged the nape of her neck. Everything had been so terrible and now it was all so beautiful. She murmured a

little, held her breath as desire for Nicholas rose up in her. Then, drawing down his hand, she kissed it. "I was scared," she whispered. "And then you came, Nicholas." "I told you I'd come back at Hallowe'en." He kissed her warm cheek. "I'd made up my mind." "Yes, but I had actually thought you'd be coming back married to Rebecca." He chuckled low, then drew her gently across his knees; her perfume blurred his thoughts and he began to kiss her again and again. She was sensitive and nervous and just as she had been that first night at Burnside House, and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, but only to open them again to look into wide yellow eyes raised in happy supplication. Suddenly Nicholas Turk was the happiest of men and Ellesdora a more passionate woman than he would have imagined. He smiled to himself, knowing that she had no real idea of her own power. Ellesdora thought she had never been so close to anyone in her life; she loved the firm intimate caresses, the hard male skin, his determined mouth. She brought herself up to him, close; her eyes mirrored in his, her lips parted. With a sigh, Nicholas put her away from him and eased her back on to her own seat. "I must get you back to the bungalow," he said, in a strained voice. "Besides, we're not very dignified here." As he chuckled, a pang of alarm arose in Ellesdora. "How did you know where I was staying?" she asked in a voice that struggled to sound normal.

He did not answer her particular enquiry. Instead he said soberly, "I'll stay with you tonight, Ellesdora. The villagers really live it up at Hallowe'en and it seems they've already got some funny little thoughts going.... I don't intend to leave you on your own tonight." Ellesdora's heart turned over. Frank Fairless would be waiting for her at the bungalow. He would spoil everything, antagonize Nicholas straight away... put a fresh barrier up between Nicholas and herself again.

CHAPTER NINE THERE was just the faintest chance that the doctor would not turn up; that some emergency would have called him away. The hope lived on in Ellesdora's mind for about five minutes, but when the car headlights picked up the low sleek shape of Doctor Fairless's car parked on the small red gravel drive to the bungalow, it died a sudden death. "Hello !" Nicholas said warily. "Who's this?" "Oh, heavens ! !" Ellesdora began clumsily. "It's your friend Doctor Fairless. I'd forgotten, but I did half promise to go out with him tonight.... I could hardly refuse, Nicholas. You see, Frank... I mean, Doctor Fairless got me the bungalow." "I see." The two simple words revolved in Ellesdora's brain. Nicholas didn't see at all; some awful misconception had taken hold of him; she could hear it in his voice; see it in the set line of his jaw. Suddenly all her joy was gone and she was full of distress again. She prayed that Frank Fairless would be tactful. Nicholas parked the car and before he could say any more Ellesdora slipped out and hurried away up the drive calling back nervously, "I'll tell Doctor Fairless that I've had to change my plans, Nicholas. I'm certainly not going out again tonight... not to please anyone." "Just a moment, Ellesdora." Nicholas's voice had been sharp, almost demanding, but Ellesdora ran on, anxious now only to get rid of the doctor. She would beg

him to go; she just had to spend the rest of the evening with Nicholas. Surely fate would not be so cruel! The front door stood open and Ellesdora ran swiftly into the small brilliantly lit hall. "Doctor Fairless!" she called out. "Doctor!" Then she saw him. Frank Fairless stood in the lounge doorway, a cigar languidly hanging from his mouth and a smile as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa's on his long wolfish face. He was wearing dark trousers and a white silk shirt with a lace jabot. "Where have you been?" he asked Ellesdora, his eyes raking her all over. "When I got here I found the place open and all the lights on." Ellesdora barged by him into the lounge and stopped dead. The fire had been made up and the long low settee pulled close to the fire. A small table had been filled with drinks and glasses, cigars and chocolate and the enormous terracotta vase standing by the fireplace had been filled with enormous expensive blooms. "Darling, I've been making the place comfortable." He glanced at his watch. "We're much too late for dinner now. We'd never get a table. I thought we'd make a night of it here. I've put some things in the fridge." Unable to speak, Ellesdora stared at his raised eyebrows, the significance in his dark eyes. "You'd better have a drink," he said. "You look pale. And you still haven't told me what you've been up to."

"I don't want a drink," she said stiffly, her eyes travelling to the dark jacket thrown' across the back of a chair. "Is there something wrong?" His eyes were suddenly as sharp as his voice. "You're not going to be silly, I hope." A movement in the doorway made them both look round, surprise in Frank Fairless's eyes, distress in Ellesdora's. 'Well," the doctor said slowly and with complete self-possession, "I didn't expect to see you tonight, Nicholas. But now that you're here, what will you drink?" Nicholas stood perfectly still. "Ellesdora's had a shock tonight," he said steadily. "That's why I'm here ... to look after her." "Well, there's two of us, then. Then I'll get Ellesdora a drink." "I think you'd better go, Frank." "What are you talking about, man? I've just arrived." He frowned at Ellesdora. "Are you ill?" he asked. "She's shocked. The villagers are full of nasty little pranks tonight." As he spoke Nicholas moved into the room. He looked both angry and concerned. "I think you should tell Doctor Fairless that you'll have to let him down tonight," he said to Ellesdora firmly. "Well now, this isn't like you, Nicholas!" The doctor chuckled to himself and stood with his elegant back to the fire, a whisky balanced in his fingers now. "What nonsense!" he taunted, and his eyes ran over Ellesdora again. "I'd say you'd done your best to give the villagers a shock, Ellesdora. Why wear granny gear or

whatever outrageous name it has on such a night? Why look so bewitching on Hallowe'en ?" Ellesdora felt her nerves fraying. She raised her eyes to Nicholas. "I think I'll go to bed," she said in a small voice. "Why don't you both have a drink... together?" "Well, what about it, Nicholas? Shall we have a drink together? You seem to be doing all the prescribing tonight." Nicholas reached for Ellesdora's hand and squeezed it, and she wanted to fling herself at him and tell him that there had been nothing whatever between herself and Frank Fairless. . . . But there was no time for anything. The telephone was ringing shrilly and biting her lip, she went off to answer it. It was Doris Nicholson, the doctor's secretary, who was phoning, and her voice was stiff with displeasure. "Yes, the doctor is here," Ellesdora answered quickly, blessing Doris, emphasizing, "Yes, he's here with Mr. Turk. I'll tell him, Doris." "Is that for me, Nurse?" There was a professional coolness in his tone as Ellesdora handed the doctor the receiver. But she smiled with relief when she heard him say, "All right, Doris, I'm on my way. Nurse is in a bit of trouble too ... that's why I'm here." From the doorway, Ellesdora scowled back at him. Then she had to laugh. Doctor Fairless wasn't a bad man; he just couldn't behave himself. She just hoped that he would grow up in time to appreciate his devoted secretary. In the doorway he laughed into her eyes.

"I did get a shock down there in the village tonight," she told him in a half apologetic tone. "I couldn't have gone anywhere with anyone tonight." He patted her shoulder as though he had something- else on his mind already. "I'm glad you like the bungalow," he said vaguely. "Oh, yes, I do!" "I'll say goodnight to Nicholas." He paused for a moment as though something had occurred to him, then he glanced back at Ellesdora and his eyebrows rose "enquiringly and his dark eyes were teasing and good-natured. "You're not too badly shocked, are you Ellesdora?" he said. With a smile on her silent lips she answered him with a happy shake of her head.

"I've always liked Frank," Nicholas said later, "but he never stops making a fool of himself over women." "Oh, I know I haven't any special attraction," Ellesdora murmured softly as she stood on her toes and lifted her arms about his neck. "I don't know." His eyes were sober. "You're a pretty good nurse ... and you're young." "Young!" Her brows came down now and she pouted. "Is that my only visible merit?" "I didn't say that." He studied her face, frowningly. "I haven't made a clinical analysis yet."

"Oh, you're jealous! " she laughed happily, and threw back her head. "But there's no need to be. Poor Doctor Fairless didn't either. He didn't get time." "Of course I'm jealous.... You're going to have to change your doctor." At that moment it seemed that all the sunlight there was seemed to be held in Nicholas's brilliant eyes. Ellesdora caught her breath and her whole being exploded into one fountain of joy. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands about his neck. "Don't talk about him," she whispered. "Talk about us, Nicholas .. . you and me. Do you love me ?" "Do you love me ?" "You say it first." He laughed gently and drew her close. "What a ridiculous mixture of child and woman you are, Ellesdora. Of course I love you. I can't help myself." He studied her face closely. "We can't help ourselves. You know that." He set her aside, frowned down at her clothes. "You're a witch all right," he laughed, "but get out of that silly gear. Your skirt's wet and you'll get cold." Ellesdora looked down at her mud-splattered midi. "I'll take it off," she said slowly, then holding his eyes again she asked, "Are you staying all night, Nicholas?" He took her by the elbows. "Of course. What else ? I'll sleep here, on this settee. It looks comfortable enough." Never had Ellesdora felt so happy, nor so excited, nor so generous; her eyes were large and luminous with her wish to give, to please

him; her skin seemed to radiate a strange intense message. She pressed herself against him for a moment, then turned to go. But Nicholas caught her for a moment and gently winding one lock of her hair about his hand he eased her back until their faces were very close. Laughing, Ellesdora was in his arms again, then there seemed to be only their eyes and their bodies silently communicating. The room began to whirl and Ellesdora could not quell the elation that rose up in her. She pressed herself closer to him and gasped a little as his caresses grew a little more intimate. Then she flushed and raised her eyes, eyes full of amazement and enquiry.... I do this to you? Nicholas held her away firmly, kissed the tip of her nose and told her quite sharply to go and change. "I'll make something to eat," she called as she sailed away across the room. "Keep talking to me, Nicholas... I can hear you from the bedroom. Do you still love me?" "Profoundly." "And you never loved Rebecca at all?" She paused in the doorway to glance back at him slyly, still unsure of her own powers. Her words seemed to have broken the spell. Two deep tracks ran across Nicholas's brow now and a shadow seemed to darken his face. "Don't be tiresome," he said with a hint of sharpness. "Pity has nothing whatever to do with love." "Hasn't it?" Ellesdora frowned back. "I sometimes think pity has a lot to do with love. It could be the gateway to it." "Nonsense ! Not our kind of love."

In the bedroom Ellesdora changed quickly and after a wash made up her face again and then brushed her hair down, long and smooth. After that she drew on a tricel trouser suit in brown, gold and orange and with a soft roll collar. Her heart beat fast as she stared back at herself in the mirror; her eyes were like two bright flames. Slowly her mouth curved into a secret smile. If she was anything of a witch, this was going to be a night to remember. She inclined her head to one side, raised one eyebrow and laughed at herself. She felt tipsy with happiness. Nicholas Turk loved her profoundly! She crept back to the lounge and from the doorway saw Nicholas standing stiffly in the large bay window, his profile as stern and sculptured as a Greek statue. She thought he looked beautiful; she loved the shape of his neck, the gold of his hair and the way the front piece fell over his brow like a fringe when he was agitated. He had taken his jacket off and was wearing a polo-necked fine black sweater. But he was so engrossed. "What is it ?" she whispered. "Nicholas!" He looked up. But he did not see her; he was preoccupied with some thought. She frowned and, disappointed, ran to him. "Nicholas, there's something wrong?" "You look wonderful," he said, and ran his eyes tenderly over her, but Ellesdora knew that he was still not thinking about her. "There's somebody out there!" "No." He drew her towards the fire. "Of course there's not. I thought I heard a car, but I was wrong. For one horrible moment I thought we had Frank back."

But Ellesdora was not convinced. "You still think they're after my blood, don't you, Nicholas? You're afraid for me." Her eyes were accusing, demanding too. "Tell me the truth." She ran to the window, dragged back the curtain, pressed her hot face to the window pane. But there was nothing, just a great vast darkness. "Now are you convinced ?" She drew back and turned to him, took his outstretched hand and let him draw her close. "There's no one out there," she said, and raised her eyes. "And what if there had been ? You're staying with me, aren't you, Nicholas?" "Definitely." "Then I'm not afraid." Nicholas smiled at Ellesdora and at himself as he drew her down on to the settee. And soon the weight of the girl and the allure of her perfume, the silken touch of her skin, made him forget everything else. Ellesdora stirred him to more than mere passion; he closed his eyes against her cheek and thought of such things as protection and devotion, then he held her away from him again staring at her as though confounded and muttering, "Damn! Damn! Ellesdora, what have you done to me?" "Put a spell on you for ever, I hope. Kiss me, Nicholas." Then time seemed to stride away and they were carried away into a secret world of the senses until the telephone rang with torturing shrillness. Ellesdora struggled free. "Who can that be?" "Shall I answer it?"

"You'd better." "Of course," he chuckled deeply. "You're the district nurse, aren't you? I can't believe it. Not now." "I'll answer it," she said, and got up. "I only hope I haven't got to go out." "You mean you hope we haven't got to go out. You're not going anywhere on your own this night." Ellesdora pulled away and walked giddily out of the room, finding it hard to reorientate herself. A minute later she returned looking very sane and down to earth again. "It's for you, Nicholas," she said, frowning. "It's someone from the village, but they insist upon speaking to you." "All right." Nicholas got up and strode to the hall. "Well, who is that?" Ellesdora heard him ask sharply. There was a pause, then she heard the receiver crash down and Nicholas striding back. "It's Burnside House," he said grimly. "Someone says it's on fire." He held her gaze. "Ellesdora, I'll have to leave you for a short while." "No!" She ran to him and flung herself upon him. "No, I'm coming with you." He gripped her arms. "You're going to stay here and keep warm. All you have to do is lock the door the moment I've gone."

She swayed a little and her eyes were wide with alarm as he steered her back into the lounge. "But, Nicholas," she faltered, "I don't want to stay here ... I want to come with you. Please let me come !" "You're staying, Ellesdora." He spun her round to face him and now he spoke authoritatively. "Leave this to me," he said. "I know what I'm doing. I don't want you to be seen in the village again tonight." He gripped her arms and his eyes were assuring in their tenderness. "Believe me, Ellesdora, this is something I must do alone ... and what's more I mustn't waste any time." "Of course not." She fell away at the blazing anger which suddenly flared in his eyes. "This has gone far enough," he cursed as he strode out into the hall. "These mad revellers have really let things get out of hand this time.... If my house is burning someone will answer for it!" Ellesdora ran after him. "Keep calm," he told her as he reached the door. "Lock this door the moment I've gone. Don't open it to anyone. I'll telephone from the village and let you know what's happening." She tried not to let him see that she was trembling. "Be careful, darling," she faltered. He gave her a quick kiss. "There's something down there I want more than anything else," he told her. "A painting." He drew away and was swallowed up by the darkness and Ellesdora quickly shut and locked the door, A painting! Scowling, she wandered back to the fireside. A painting! Surely he hadn't

been worried about a painting? Her spirits sank and suddenly she was cold again. Surely he hadn't meant Rebecca's portrait? No, she was being silly. He had never loved Rebecca; he had told her so. Ellesdora stood tense with fear again, all logic driven from her brain. Five minutes later she was standing in the same position. Like a trapped animal, not daring to move, her heart drumming madly, she listened for every sound and watched for the slightest movement. After that she prayed for the telephone to ring. The cramp in one foot eventually forced her to move and she stumbled over to the window. Warily she lifted a corner of the curtain and to her amazement saw that the moon had sailed out from behind a great bulwark of cloud and that everything was now bright and clearly etched within the moon's silvery light. The storm had passed; it was a wonderful night. She pressed her face to the cool glass. A wonderful night, but still full of dark forces; she could feel them all about her; and even now that it looked almost as bright as day she was still afraid. She dropped the curtain and turned back into the room where the silence protracted itself and filled the room with a growing terror. What was that? Ellesdora stiffened and her heart beat twice as hard. She had heard something! She stood listening, her ears straining,. her body tense. It came again and she spun round. The noise came from outside ... voices! She could hear them, the soft murmur of distant voices! Intent, with her hand over her mouth, she stood listening. The voices came nearer and like a rushing tide they now filled her ears.

In a spurt of desperation she flung back the curtain—and gasped in dismay. They had followed her! Harriet Scandel, Rebecca Willis and her mad band had come once again to accuse her... to judge her\ Just for a moment Ellesdora's young body was awake with a supernatural fear that went back in time. Just for a moment she was the witch Ellesdora! And she was guilty! She had stolen someone's beloved! For a moment a great engulfing fear whirled about her; terror gripped her; she wanted to cry out, but no sound would come from her lips. Then her hand went stiffly out to lift the curtain again. It was true; a menacing procession of revellers came towards the house; it came winding along the road like some great illuminated serpent. She could hear their wild cries, their angry protests as they called out to each other. In the flare of the lanterns, Ellesdora saw Rebecca's thin sharp face and with a fresh rush of alarm she fell back into the room. She had to escape! Her first instinct was to get out of the house, drive away. Making little Whimpering noises, she ran out into the hall. But her legs almost failed her; for a moment she fell back against the wall, her eyes hard on the door and full of desperation. She had to get out; make a dive for her car; get away. Her car! It was as though someone had suddenly gripped her by the throat. The agonizing truth blew up in her brain. She had no car; they had driven back in Nicholas's car! She was trapped ! The swell of voices outside rose, and stupefied by shock now, Ellesdora closed her eyes; she was helpless. Rebecca's shrill voice rent the night air and the sound of it Charged Ellesdora into action. She would not be hounded; with a little cry of rage she moved to the door and opened it an inch, peered out. The mob had not yet

reached the drive; they would not see her; she would get out, hide.... She would not be trapped ! She dragged the door open a little further and then bending low made her way breathlessly down the side of the sloping garden. She would hide in the bushes and pray that Nicholas would not be long in coming back. The shouting got louder and even more raucous and the lights of the lanterns appeared over the high beech hedge. Ellesdora sank to her knees, squeezed herself between a holly bush and a young oak tree. After the storm the ground was soft and her knees sank into the mire; she could not stop shaking, her teeth chattered. She raised her head a little and peered through the thick prickly leaves; the procession had reached the gate now; never had she seen such a bizarre crowd. She closed her eyes, held her breath, prayed that Nicholas would come. She dared not look up again, for if she did she knew she would cry out in sheer terror; she would not be able to contain her fear. The heel of her shoe slid in the mud and crunched up some autumn leaves and the noise seemed to be accentuated a hundred times till Ellesdora thought her lungs would burst.... But they had not seen her. And after what seemed like an age, she peered up again. The swaying throng, led by Rebecca and Harriet Scandel, had turned into the gates and were making their way up the drive. Rebecca waved her arms wildly, beckoning them all on. But a group of young men and children held back, Staying cautiously by the gates while the more grotesque shapes moved up the drive and spread out across the garden like a chain about the house. Ellesdora ducked down and Rebecca's shrill voice seared the night air once again.

"Ellesdora! Ellesdora!" the girl called frantically. "Come out! We know you're in there ... We want to speak to you!" Then the thin wail of Harriet Scandel. "Yes, come out, Ellesdora. I haven't forgotten what you did to poor Sammy." "Come out, come out!" the women chanted. "If you don't come out, we're coming in !" "We don't want you here," another hysterical voice shrieked. "Come out, Ellesdora !" Ellesdora thought she would faint. She had never been so terrified nor so close to the sodden earth. Something moved in the leaves and her heart almost failed her; a sharp twig tore her skin and she clapped a muddy hand to her mouth; she dared not give herself away. But her legs were so stiff and cramped; how long could she last out? And what would happen if she stood up and showed herself? They had obviously all been celebrating and now it was a case of mob hysteria. Then Ellesdora knew that whatever happened she could no longer grovel in the mud; she could no longer hide like an animal. A new anger, a new rage brought a strange warmth to her body, a warmth that quickly radiated through her and which suddenly gave her great strength. Her mind seemed breathless all of a sudden with the strange idea which caressed it; she felt full of some kind of supernatural courage. Again, in a flash, she knew exactly how the Ellesdora of long ago had felt; how that girl had reacted to her mocking tormentors, her persecutors. It was almost as though the ghost of the girl had laid her hand on Ellesdora's shoulder reassuringly and she was frightened no more. Like a plant unable to wait for the sun, she rose slowly from the ground and in the moonlight she stood tall, erect and beautiful. Her eyes filled with

tears as she remembered the taut dignity of the silver birch... the silver sorceress. And then they saw her and for a few moments they stood in shocked silence. It was Rebecca who called out first and then, Slowly, menacingly, they all Started down the sloping lawn towards Ellesdora... and in Ellesdora's wide yellow eyes it seemed that the chain of fate was closing around her. But she was no longer afraid; she faced them bravely.

"Move over! Stand back!" Nicholas's car had scattered the villagers by the gates and he now made his way through the strung-out line of shapes advancing upon Ellesdora. "Stand back! Damn you, get back!" Pushing them roughly, Nicholas shouldered his way through the crowd. Then he saw Rebecca and grabbed her by the arm and pushed her out so that she was facing the crowd. "You!" he shouted at her. "You've got a lot to answer for, Rebecca Willis!" The jumble of shapes etched by the moonlight drew back and closed in a little, a new apprehension on their white clown-like faces. Rebecca struggled fiercely, but Nicholas held her in a vice-like grip. There was both fury and indignation in his flashing green eyes and the crowd moved back still further when he called out, "Don't move, anyone. I want you to hear me out. This has gone too far!" As he spoke he jerked Rebecca forward to face them. "I think there's been some great misunderstanding as to my motives... as to my integrity, indeed. And I want you people to know this. I befriended this girl, yes. But make no mistake, it was only from a desire to help. I did my best. Rebecca Willis was a lonely child. I

took her out with me on my jaunts over the fell, interested her in the stars... in my painting. There was nothing else, do you understand? As for this vendetta against Nurse Lorraine, this has stemmed from a stupid obsession the girl has... Rebecca Willis, poor child, feels she has no real life of her own, so she lives on illusion and superstition. And mark me, she is now using you all, making fools of you. .. making you all a prey to superstition. And I tell you, this is dangerous." Nicholas stood erect, his golden head held high, like some overlord, commanding and with absolute power. And Ellesdora, overcome by love for him and pride, moved out from the shadows and stood at his side. Nicholas drew her into the protection of his arm and held her close. "She's a witch!" Rebecca, free now, faced them, her moon-flecked face focused and intent in its savagery. She spat out the words out and Ellesdora shuddered and closed her eyes tightly against Nicholas's jacket. She felt weak and sick. "You're the one who's been doing all the persecuting, Rebecca," Nicholas said in a harsh penetrating voice. "And if you've got any sense at all you'll go home now. You've done enough damage for one night." "She's a witch!" Rebecca stamped forward once again. "She's put a spell on you, Nicholas. You don't understand. She wanted you." But Rebecca did not sound quite so confident and her voice dwindled away and her face dropped. Some of the villagers streaked away, bored now. Others babbled to each other with a new and growing sympathy for Rebecca. Then Nicholas's voice rose again and with savage exasperation this time. "You've not only made Nurse Lorraine ill, Rebecca. You've

made a fool of some of our weak-minded friends... and what's more, you've destroyed a number of my paintings." He paused, raised his eyebrows. "I only hope that you good people will be careful with your lanterns. The Forestry Brigade turned out tonight for one hoax and I shouldn't think they'll be fooled again. Have any of you got poultry ? Turkeys for Christmas?" That set them off; the crowd shuffled uncomfortably, dwindled again. And Ellesdora, glancing up, felt a surge of pity for the pregnant girl who now stood silent and sullen, beaten. Then the incredulous thin voice of Harriet Scandel pierced the night air. "It was Rebecca who killed my Sammy! She said the nurse had owl-eyes and that she'd owl-eyed poor Sammy. But She hadn't. It was Rebecca. Look at her!" Her voice rose to a squeal. "She looks like a hare! She is a hare! She changes into one. Look at her!" The grey little figure fell back. "She killed my Sammy!" Mocking raucous laughter filled the air. "Come on, then," someone yelled. "If she's a hare, let's give her a chase." "Yes, let's give her a run. She's made right fools of us!" The mood, of the crowd had Changed and Rebecca shrank back against Nicholas and for a moment Ellesdora saw him reach out and grip the girl's arm as though to steady her. Then something surprising happened. Out of the crowd stepped a hipless, lanky boy of about twenty, wearing a red shirt and beige cords. "Come on, Rebecca," the youth Shouted. "Let's run for it. You'll have to marry me now." With a great guffaw he grabbed Rebecca's hand and then to everyone's amazement, Rebecca laughed too ...

and off the two young figures leapt, down the long garden and, over the wall at the bottom like a couple of foxes. The hounds did not follow, they merely gasped and stared at each other and did not even notice that Nicholas Turk had taken Ellesdora up in his strong hands and carried her back up the leafstrewn lawn to the bungalow.

Nicholas put Ellesdora gently down on the settee and then, without a word, strode back to the window. The crowd had dispersed; the lanterns once again bobbed up and down in the hedgerows along the roadside and then disappeared like fire-flies. All was quiet again. He drew the curtain and strode off to the bedroom to get a blanket, and even as he covered Ellesdora with it, he said nothing; his face remained grimly thoughtful, his eyes stern. Then he went off to the kitchen to make some coffee. Ellesdora stared at the fire; she felt as though she was emerging from some horrific nightmare. But soon the warmth seeped back into her 'body and the knowledge into her brain that she was safe; that the mad Hallowe'en revellers had gone; that Nicholas was with her. Her heart leapt up at the sound of his footstep and shyly she sank down into the warm folds of the blanket. "Drink this, Ellesdora." He said no more, 'but stooped down and steadied the beaker as She drank, and at last she sank back, her eyes raised and full of happiness; joy filling her whole being because of the concern and love she saw in his eyes. "Poor Rebecca," she murmured. "I almost feel sorry for that girl." She turned to Nicholas who had edged on to the settee beside her.

"Do you think she'll marry that boy?" She laughed a little shakily. "He seemed to think she should!" Nicholas smiled and the deep groove appeared down the side of his cheek and he caught Ellesdora's fingers as she reached up to touch it. "He's a brave man who takes Rebecca on," he laughed softly. "Conscience or otherwise I'd have been over that wall like a quick brown fox... alone." Ellesdora's face twisted, she pulled down her upper lip, thoughtfully. "It's strange," she said slowly, "but I've always thought Rebecca looked like a hare. Harriet Scandel saw it too. It was just sometimes.... You'd just catch her. ..." "I think we'll forget about all that," Nicholas said abruptly. Ellesdora sat up a little. "But I can't," she told him. "In the old days Scottish witches could change into hares. I've read that." He slipped his arm about her and drew her back. "Now you see how easy it is to become prey to superstition." She smiled and sank into the curve of his arm. "Yes," she agreed, "I think I will forget about Rebecca." "She's just a lonely, imaginative girl. She needed some kind of help." "Did she?" Ellesdora thrust out her bottom lip. "And I suppose you were just the man. She really did put a spell on you, Nicholas." He stood up abruptly, impatient, his brow drawn.

Inclining her head, Ellesdora caught his eyes. "She at least made you interested in her... and you did paint her. You even rushed off to get her portrait. You were terrified you'd lose that." Her lips quivered because he was still frowning down at her, not retaliating in any way. "Damn you!" he suddenly burst out. "You know who put the spell on me. You know who the witch is, Ellesdora." He laughed roughly. "Do you know," he told her as he sank down beside her and took her hands into his own, "I've never been free of you, Ellesdora, since that day we met at the farm gate. You put the spell on me... you, with your funny craggy face and your enormous yellow eyes." Frowningly, he studied her. "I had to get you on to canvas... I had to paint you. In fact I had to put Rebecca's canvas to one side." He laughed again, as though he still found it hard to believe. "Ellesdora, you possessed me right away." Ellesdora struggled up. "I can't believe it," she said, and She looked like a child that had just awakened, dreamy, soft-eyed. "You painted me? But I'm not beautiful." "Perhaps not." Now she frowned. "You were wonderful, my darling. Just wait until you see your portrait." "You've got it?" He nodded. "Oh, Nicholas!" She rose up and the blanket fell about her waist. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me the moment you saw me that you loved me?"

"It would definitely have saved a lot of trouble!" They laughed softly together. "Will you ever forgive me for thinking such awful things about you?" Her shoulders rose and fell; she sighed. "I even thought you wanted to take me on after you'd married Rebecca." "I'll forgive you," he teased, "but I'll keep in mind what a suspicious little mind you have." "Kiss me." As he leant over her, his eyes were brilliant, disturbing, and Ellesdora lay back, her own eyes shining. "It's funny," she said a little breathlessly, "I've known you such a short time, Nicholas... and now I couldn't live without you." His reply was a caress that made Ellesdora gasp with joyous surprise; she shuddered a little and then moved a little to make room for him. Then there was no more teasing and they talked in whispers for a while. There was no resistance, no apprehension, and together they slipped back into that secret world of the senses where they now longed to travel together. Ellesdora's breath grew short, her body taut against Nicholas's; she kept murmuring softly against his hard cheek ... until at last Nicholas eased away with a sigh, conscious of the fact that his desire must give way to tenderness. He stood up, gazed down at her, lit another cigarette rather hastily. "You must go to bed," he said firmly. "You need a good night's sleep, Ellesdora."

Ellesdora's skin seemed to have taken on a glowing, pearly sheen. "You've forgiven me, then," she whispered. "I mean, for imagining you to be such a hypocrite?" She looked so smooth and silky that Nicholas had to hide his smile with the back of his hand. "I think you're going to be capable of making amends," he began to tease again. She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers with his, thrilling again to the firmness of his hand. "I want to make amends now," she whispered up to him, a faint flush colouring her cheeks. She tugged his hand. "Now." "I know," he said gently, "but it's late, Ellesdora. Besides," he chuckled a little, "I rather imagined you would have some oldfashioned ideas." "Have you, Nicholas?" She tugged at his hand again, impulsively. "Most definitely," he said with emphasis. "Especially where you're concerned." He drew her up to her feet. "So off to bed, young woman. Leave me in peace." She pouted her disappointment and then turned to go. "Goodnight, Nicholas," she yawned. "I am tired ... very tired. But I'm so happy." She glanced back, smiled at him. "Are you happy, Nicholas?" Under his breath he said, "Don't ask silly questions." "It was silly of me," Ellesdora said as she yawned again. "You won't leave me?" "That was another silly question."

She turned, stared at him hard, then ran back to him and flung her arms about his neck. "Oh, Nicholas," she panted. "Oh, Nicholas, I love you so much!" She raised her eyes, searched his face, clung to him fiercely. "Oh, Nicholas," she whispered, and her small voice broke with the weight of her emotion. "I never want you to make love to any other girl but me." With great gentleness he held her away a little, "Then I'm afraid you must stay with me for ever, Ellesdora." Tender amusement flickered in his eyes. "Will you promise to do that?" Her lips parted, her eyes shone and then she was fast in his arms again, close, and there were no more words. A few minutes later she wandered dreamily away and Nicholas sat down again. He gazed thoughtfully into the leaping flames of the fire, then he lit a cigarette and leant back. All was quiet. All was well.

After the tension, Ellesdora slept profoundly for a while. Then she awoke and lay very still thinking about Nicholas. He was the most wonderful man on earth and she was the luckiest of girls. Then she grew restless and Rebecca kept creeping back into her thoughts till at last she got up and tiptoed across to the window. The country girl had loved Nicholas madly... as she herself did now. She felt dizzy with loving him; her heart beat madly at the memory of his caress.... She could barely breathe. She pushed the window open. It was a beautiful still night, the whole landscape was swathed in moonlight. Ellesdora breathed in deeply, filling her lungs... And then quite distinctly she heard something! A great shudder of awe ran through her; all her nerves were suddenly aquiver.... For it

came over the silvery fells... the ghostly sound of someone calling her name, "Ellesdora ... Ellesdora!" But this time, accompanying it, came the strangest, eeriest tingling of light girlish laughter.