“I see.”

“Well…I should not be speaking to young ladies from the school, of course.”

“We can’t be seen here among all these trees,” said Anna B. “At least, I hope not.”

We walked through the shrubbery and Carl pointed out his living quarters in the distance.

“There you see my dwelling,” he said. “And now I take my leave.”

With that he bowed and left us.

Anna B looked a little cross, and I gathered it was with me. I was about to mention this when she said, “I wouldn’t say anything about meeting Carl if I were you.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s a bit secret, isn’t it? I don’t know what old Rochère’s reaction would be—the old snob. She wouldn’t want people coming to work here to settle wagers, would she? She would expect a properly trained gardener.”

“Well, he is only here for a little while.”

“She does not know that. So don’t say anything, will you?”

“You didn’t say you’d seen him.”

“It was only the other day I did. Then I came upon him accidentally…like now.”

“I suppose we might never have seen him if you hadn’t come across him by chance.”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

“Do you think he was a bit put out because we have discovered him?”

“Perhaps. He wouldn’t want it generally known about the wager, would he?”

“He told you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t mention it to Caroline or any of them. It would be all over the school if you did.”

“I won’t.”

“What are you supposed to be doing now?”

“Just taking a little walk before I go back. It’s conversazione at six. I don’t know what we are going to talk about.”

“Let’s wait and see, eh?”

She walked with me a little, and after that we went in.

It was a few days after my encounter with Carl and I had ceased to marvel at the coincidence of his choosing our school in which to work out his wager.

I said to Anna B, “He seems to be one of those people who turns up in odd places.”

She smiled to herself.

“Well,” I went on, “he was there at our house…outside the cubbyhole…and then to find him here. It’s odd.”

“He’s a diplomat, of course.”

“He gets long holidays at that, I suppose. How strange for a diplomat suddenly to become a gardener!”

“He explained. I suppose he has an exciting time.”

She was smiling. She looked different and had for some time. I thought it was because she was enjoying school. She and Lucia were always whispering together; there was a touch of superiority about them both, as though they knew something that the rest of us didn’t.

That night, when I had been fast asleep, I was abruptly awakened by someone calling. “Lucinda…Lucinda!” It was insistent, dragging me out of a pleasant dream.

Caroline was standing by my bed. She was wearing her dressing gown.

“Wake up,” she said. “I can hear something. Listen.”

I sat up in bed, trying to shake off my drowsiness.

“What…?” I mumbled.

“Footsteps,” whispered Caroline. “I heard them go along the corridor and down to the hall.”

“The ghost!” I cried.

“Get up. I’m going to look. Come with me.”

“It’s late…”

“Listen.”

I did, and then I heard it, too. It was definitely the sound of footsteps and they were going down the staircase in the direction of the hall. I felt my heart begin to beat faster. Now I was as curious as Caroline.

Yvonne was awakened. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s the ghost. We’ve both heard it,” whispered Caroline.

“Where?”

Caroline jerked her head toward the door. “In the corridor and now on the stairs….Listen.”

We stood very still.

Helga was now awake. We explained quickly.

“We’re going to look,” said Caroline.

Helga hastily got out of bed and put on her dressing gown while Caroline quietly opened the door, and we went out into the corridor.

We descended the staircase and were in the hall. We gasped, for ahead of us, standing by one of the windows, was…the ghost.

It was the slim figure of a young woman, her hair loose about her shoulders; she had her back to us so we could not see whether she wore a veil over her scarred face, but in those first moments we were sure she did.

And then it dawned on us that she was not wearing the robes of an earlier century, but she was in a dressing gown very like those we were wearing. As we stood there the figure turned, and, instead of the pockmarked beauty, we saw that our ghost was Marie Christine du Bray.

“Marie Christine!” whispered Caroline.

She laid a hand on my arm, and as she did so, Marie Christine walked slowly toward us, her hands slightly outstretched, as though she were feeling her way. She gave no sign that she saw us.

“She’s walking in her sleep,” Caroline whispered.

“What do we do?” asked Yvonne.

“Go and get Mademoiselle Artois,” said Caroline.

“What?” cried Helga.

“Hush. We mustn’t wake her. We don’t know what to do. We ought to get her back to bed.”

Caroline herself took on the task and hurried upstairs to the room where Mademoiselle Artois slept. It was at the end of the dormitory, where she had two rooms, a bedroom and a study.

Marie Christine by this time had walked down to the end of the hall and sat in an armchair. Caroline had told us to stay quietly and watch her, in case she went somewhere else.

It was not long before Mademoiselle appeared, looking unlike her daytime self, with two rather thin plaits hanging down her back and a look of consternation on her face.

By this time several other girls had arrived on the scene, Anna B with Lucia among them.

Mademoiselle Artois immediately took charge.

“You girls go back at once to your dormitories. Marie Christine has walked in her sleep. Be very quiet. She must not be disturbed.”

The first shock of seeing Mademoiselle in dishabille had passed and the sound of her authoritative voice was as effective by night as it was by day. She went to Marie Christine and took her arm gently. “It’s all right,” she said soothingly. “We shall go to your room. You will be comfortable there.”

Marie Christine stood up and allowed herself to be led. The girls silently watched as Marie Christine ascended the stairs. Mademoiselle was too taken up with Marie Christine to have noticed that we were still there.

We all started to whisper.

“I thought it was the ghost.”

“So did I.”

“Marie Christine looked very strange.”

“So did Mademoiselle.”

Giggles followed.

“Do you think Marie Christine was looking for the ghost?”

“All that talk about it may have preyed on her mind.”

Mademoiselle appeared suddenly.

“Why are you not in your beds? Go to them immediately. All is well. Marie Christine has merely been walking in her sleep. It is not unusual for people to do this. Now, back to bed…all of you.”

The next day everyone was talking about the previous night’s adventure. In the morning Dr. Crozier was called in to see Marie Christine. We were told that she was resting for the day.

At conversazione when we were all assembled, Madame Rochère herself addressed us.

“You girls will be aware that there was a little disturbance in the night. I want to talk to you all very seriously. Marie Christine has suffered a great shock recently, and it has naturally unsettled her. Dr. Crozier has seen her. There is nothing wrong, I am happy to say…except that she is a little disturbed…as we all should be in her position. This has made her uneasy at night when she should be resting, and it has resulted in this sleepwalking. She may not do it again, but if she does and you girls hear her, I want you to do nothing. Do not speak to her or disturb her in any way. Dr. Crozier informs me that it is best to leave her. She will go back to her bed when she is ready and will be unaware of what has happened. I am assured that this is the best way to deal with the matter. She is resting now and will do so during the day. I want no more gathering together and talking, whispering, disturbing everyone, as there was last night.