The door of this chamber was now shut and as I walked toward it I heard the sound of voices.

They must be there.

“Honey,” I called. “Are you there?”

There was a short silence. Then Honey’s voice said: “Yes, yes, Catharine. We … we’re here.”

I opened the door. Edward and Honey were seated at a table and the peddler sat with them.

Honey said: “We were just about to look at the pack. I wanted Edward to see something.”

I said I would like to have another look at them. I bought some cambric to make a petticoat and Honey bought some needles and thread.

There was nothing of interest to Edward and I wondered why Honey had brought the peddler into the house.

Edward appeared to be rather tense and there was a pulse beating in his temple which I hadn’t noticed before.

Three nights after the day the peddler came I saw the galleon again. The Pennlyons were still away, but I expected them to be back at any time. I awoke as I had on that other occasion. It was three o’clock in the morning. I wondered what had awakened me. There was something going on. In my sleep I had been aware of unaccustomed sounds—or had I been half awake? The great harvest moon—almost full—shone into the room; I rose and went to the window: and there was the galleon in all its glory, its four masts clearly visible—the tallest and most majestic ship I had ever seen.

The Rampant Lion, dwarfed beside it, made me laugh. I wished that he could be here at this moment. How I should like him to see that other ship! But the idea of wishing that he could be with me for any reason whatsoever was so contrary to my wishes that I must laugh at myself.

Then I saw the boat on the moonlit waters; it was clearly making for the shore. I knew then that it contained someone from the galleon.

I could hear Jake Pennlyon’s voice: “By God’s Death, it would seem that you are describing a Spanish galleon.”

He hadn’t believed I had in fact seen what I claimed to. He had pooh-poohed the idea of a Spanish galleon daring to enter the harbor.

As I watched, the rowing boat disappeared as it had on that other night. I did not return to bed. I sat watching.

Half an hour passed. The galleon was still there. Then I heard movements below. I looked down and saw a light in the courtyard. Instinct told me that the movement below was in some way connected with the galleon. Something was happening and my curiosity needed to be satisfied. I wrapped a robe about me and putting on slippers, I descended the staircase and went down to the courtyard.

As the cool night airs enveloped me I heard voices—quietly whispering. I saw the lantern and there was Edward and with him a stranger. I slipped back into the house, my heart beating fast. I ran swiftly to the solarium chamber and looked down through the peep. Edward had come into the hall and with him was the stranger. I could see them only vaguely in the dim light. They were talking earnestly; then Edward led the stranger up the stairs to the punch room and I could see them no more.

I was bewildered, but I was sure that someone had come from the Spanish galleon to see Edward.

I went to my room. The galleon had started to move. I stood there watching as she slipped below the horizon.

I was possessed by a sudden fear. Edward, who seemed so gentle, was involved in some intrigue. That much was obvious. Where would it all lead us? So far his association with the visiting priest had brought me to a situation which was distasteful and would have been alarming if it had not been so ridiculous. At the same time it was not going to be easy to extricate myself from the Pennlyon web.

I went back to bed. Sleep was impossible. I had a glimmering of what this night’s visitation meant.

No, I told myself. Edward would not be such a fool. He is too gentle, too much a dreamer. But it was precisely men such as he who placed themselves in dangerous situations.

I spoke to Honey next morning.

“What happened last night?” I demanded.

She turned first red and then quite pale so I was aware that she knew something.

I went on: “I saw the Spanish galleon in the harbor.”

“A Spanish galleon! You were dreaming.”

“Not this time. I saw it and there was no mistaking it. And that was not all. Someone came ashore, someone who came to this house.”

“You were dreaming.”

“I was not. I saw a man come here. Honey, I am involved with your follies. Have I not placed myself in a desperate situation because of you? I won’t be in the dark.”

She looked at me steadily for some moments and said: “I will be back in a moment.”

She came back with Edward. He looked very grave, yet his lips were firmly set as though he were determined to continue with what he had begun.

“Honey has told me that you saw something last night. What exactly was it?”

“A Spanish galleon in the bay, a boat rowing ashore and your bringing a man into the house.”

“And you surmise that the man you saw was the one who came ashore?”

“I am certain of it. And I do wonder what is happening.”

“We can trust you, Catharine. I know what a good friend you have been to us both.”

“What are you doing, Edward? Who is the man who came here last night?”

“He is a priest.”

“Ah, I thought it. Have you not had enough of priests?”

“They are good men who are persecuted in God’s name, Catharine.”

“And bring persecution to others,” I murmured.

“We must all suffer for our faith if called upon to do so.”

“It serves no purpose these days to stand in the marketplace and declare that faith, particularly if it is against that favored by the Sovereign and her ministers.”

“You are right and you must know what is happening. Honey and I think that you should go back to the Abbey. We may be in some danger here.”

“There is danger everywhere. Tell me who the man was who came last night.”

“He is a Jesuit priest. He is English. He has been persecuted for his faith. He comes from Salamanca in Spain.”

“And he was brought here on the galleon?”

Edward nodded. “He will work here for the good of his faith. He will visit houses…”

“As Thomas Elders does,” I said.

“First he will stay here with us.”

“And so place us in jeopardy.”

“If God wills it.”

“Is he here now?”

“He left the house in the early hours of the morning before the servants were astir. He will arrive today in the midafternoon. I shall greet him as a friend and he will stay with us awhile until he makes his plans. He will be known as John Gregory, a friend of my youth. He will be a member of this household until he departs.”

“You are placing us all in dire danger.”

“It may well be, but if we are discreet we shall be safe enough. If you wish to return to the Abbey, Catharine, you should do so.”

“And what will the Pennlyons do then, think you? What if I flout them? If I go home while they plan a ceremonial betrothal feast do you think they will calmly accept this?”

“They must do what they will.”

“And Thomas Elders and your Jesuit and Honey and yourself?”

“We must look after ourselves. What happens here is none of your making.”

Honey was looking at me earnestly. “We will not let you marry Jake Pennlyon if you are so set against it.”

“If I am set against it! I hate the man. How could I be anything but set against it?”

“Then we must devise a plan and the best seems for you to leave here and, as Edward said, if they make trouble they must then make it.”

I did not answer. I had decided against going back to the Abbey. I was not going to let Jake Pennlyon think I had run away. I would stay and face him; I would outwit him in my own way.

Meanwhile, Edward and Honey were getting deeper into intrigue and I trembled for them.

That afternoon John Gregory arrived at the house. He was greeted as an old friend by Edward and was given the red bedroom with the big four-poster bed and a window which looked out over the country for miles.