Still I hesitated. I looked at that grim, grey fortress. I could hear the faint murmur of the sea. What could I do? It seemed I had no choice. I saw a light moving across what must have been a courtyard. Then I saw another in a window. There were people there. I must go with him. It was the only way. I could not roam, as he said, aimlessly through the night, searching for my mother.

He saw that I was relenting. “All will be well,” he said gently.

We climbed the incline to the castle.

“I would welcome the pleasure of showing you my home in happier circumstances,” he said.

I tried to draw my mind from thoughts of my mother.

“You are kind,” I answered perfunctorily.

“I am glad to be of service. Come, stop fretting. This night will soon be over and by daylight everything will seem different. Paling has long withstood the force of the elements. It is as strong as it was when the first stone was laid. It needed to be. It had to hold off intruders, and fight the weather. It is of Cornish stone—hard and strong, and has provided a home for my ancestors for generations. The foundations were laid years ago during the reign of the Conqueror but later on castles had to be made habitable, something more than just walls in which to protect oneself and one’s family. But you are not interested in architecture. You think only of how we shall find your mother. I understand. I talk but to ease you, if that be possible.”

We were approaching the portcullis. The cool wind fanned my cheeks and I could smell the fresh clean smell of sea air. I was aware again of that sense of being warned. It was as strong now as it had been at the burned-out inn. What was I doing, trusting this man who had behaved so badly at The Traveller’s Rest? Oh, when would this nightmare end!

Once more an impulse came to me to turn my horse and gallop away, and I restrained it. What could I do? I had told him that I had wished to go to the inn and he had brought me here. He was a man who would do what he wished. I knew that. He alarmed me, yet excited me in a strange way. I was not sure of my feelings for him. He gave out an aura of immense power, which at this time I needed. I could not help feeling that if he were sincere in his desire to help me in this frightening predicament, he could do it.

I went forward simply because I did not know what could happen to me if I went back.

We had passed under the portcullis.

“Quite a climb,” he said. “But you see how strong we are. A look-out on the tower could see people approaching for miles. No one can come near from the other side … except by boat of course, and that would not be easy.”

Colum Casvellyn started to shout and there was an immediate response. Several men came running.

He leaped from his horse and one of them took it. He turned to me then and helped me out of the saddle.

He took my arm and led me across the courtyard.

A door opened. A woman appeared with a lantern. She bobbed a curtsy and he said: “Gemma, we have a visitor. Let a room be prepared for her and some hot food be brought.”

She was off and he took me through the great hall to the guard-room.

I had a sudden feeling then that he intended to make me his prisoner. On the walls were spears and halberds and at the four corners of the room suits of armour.

“Sit down for a moment,” he said. I sat on a chair which seemed to have been made for a giant, so heavy was it.

He leaned towards me and taking my hands in his, patted them gently. “You are cold,” he said. “And so pale. You look different from the spirited young lady of the oaken chamber. It grieves me. How I should have enjoyed receiving you here with your parents in all honour. But let us forget the unfortunate circumstances.”

“I find that impossible.”

“Indeed you do and most understandably. Here you are, you see, in the castle’s guard-room. This is where we kept our prisoners in the past before taking them to the dungeons. Oh yes, we have dungeons. You see this trapdoor, that is one way to them. There is another. A staircase leading down and a strong iron-studded door which they tell me is impregnable.”

I felt the fear grip me again.

“I have brought you here,” he said, “before taking you into the castle—for this is but the guard-room. I fear that on our first meeting I made a bad impression on you. It lingers, does it not? Well, I want to say to you if you would rather go from here, I have no wish to detain you. I wish you to think well of me. If you would care to go now, please say so and I shall not attempt to stop you.” He opened the door of the guard-house and left it open. “It is for you to decide,” he added.

I was silent. I could do nothing, I knew, but stay here, rely on his help and long for the morning.

I said, “I will stay.”

He smiled. “A wise decision,” he said. “Now I will have you shown to a room which is being made ready for you. Then you shall be refreshed. You may rest in the room provided for you or where you will. Castle Paling is at your service.”

I thanked him and reproached myself for my churlishness. It was true he had behaved in a swaggering manner, but he had given up the room to us; then he had called me from my bed when he had tapped at the window. Perhaps that was the most disturbing thing of all. But wasn’t it what any high-spirited man might have done? Should I blame him too much? After all, when I had returned to my bed he had gone away and he had amply repaid any discourtesy on this night. It was hard to reconcile this man who was so anxious to calm my fears with the arrogant bully who had come to The Traveller’s Rest. Had I built up an image of him in my mind which was exaggerated and therefore false? I was apt to do that. My mother often pointed it out to me.

“Now we will leave this grim place,” he said, “and I will take you to my sanctum. A small room where I entertain my friends now and then. There food will be brought and we shall eat. But before that I doubt not that you would wish to wash and perhaps take off your cloak.”

He pulled at a bell rope and I heard a clanging. A serving-girl appeared at once.

“Take this lady to the room which is being prepared for her,” he said.

She bobbed a curtsy and I followed her. We went up a staircase and along a gallery. A door was thrown open. Candles flickered in their sconces. There were two women in the room making the bed. They turned and curtsied as I entered.

The room was elaborately furnished. The bed had four posts which were intricately engraved. It was a large bed furnished with heavily embroidered curtains. I wanted to stop them for I had no intention of sleeping there. I should spend the night listening and waiting for some news.

One of the women brought warm water and a basin in which I washed my hands and face.

Removing my cloak and my bonnet-shaped hat I shook out my hair. It was my greatest beauty, my mother said. It was a darker shade than my father’s, a lightish brown with golden tints in it, heavy hair that was difficult to dress and looked its best in disorder.

I was too anxious to be interested in it now but it was a relief to have it loose.

The woman was waiting to take me to her master, and holding high her candle she conducted me to a room which was close by the bedroom. Here candles had been lighted and a table laid.

There was hot soup in pewter bowls, and although I did not feel like eating I realized I was faint with hunger.

He was waiting for me. He bowed and led me to a chair.

“Allow me to help you to this good capon. I am sure you will enjoy it. I can see that you are hungry and thirsty though you feel disinclined to partake of food and drink. Come, there is no good in abstaining. I have already sent men out to scour the countryside, to inquire at inns far and wide. I doubt not that ere long your mother will be here … or at least we shall have news of her. That will satisfy you.”