Lord of the Far Island by Victoria Holt (free e novels .TXT) 📕

you start trying to find out during what period it had been put there."

"You'll be the same," Jago said to me, "once you start getting the feel of the place. I want to show you the Island myself. Tomorrow we'll explore. You ride, I know."

"Oh yes. We used to ride in the Row when we were in London. In the country, of course, I rode a good deal."

"That's good. It saves us the trouble of having to teach you. We must choose the right horse for you."

"I shall enjoy it."

"That's what we want, isn't it?" said Jago, appealing to the women. "We want you to enjoy being here so much that you won't want to leave us."

"It's early days to say that," I reminded him. "You know what is said about guests."

"No. You tell me."

"That it's wonderful to have them for a few days, but if they overstay their welcome you can't wait to see them gone."

"You're not a guest, Ellen. You're family. Isn't that so?"

"Of course it is," replied Jenifry.

"Tell me more about the Island," I said. "I'm eager to explore it."

"You won't feel cut off," said Jago. "It's big enough to prevent that."

"There are times though," put in Gwennol, "when it's impossible to get to the mainland."

"And that," added Jenifry, "can last for days . . . perhaps weeks."

Jago cut her short. "Ellen knows that. Wasn't she held up at Polcrag Inn waiting for a boat? People here don't feel they're missing anything by not being able to reach the mainland. We can live without that. We have the local inn. People come and stay there to get away from the mainland."

"They only have four bedrooms for guests and they're rarely occupied," Gwennol said. "It's really a sort of public house where people go to drink and sing and find company."

"So much the better," said Jago. "We don't want the place spoilt with too many people."

I was learning how obsessed he was with the Island. He loved it; to him it was perfect. I could understand that. The Island was his and he was proud of it.

"Do you ever have any criminals here?" I asked.

"Hardly ever," he assured me. "I think I know how to keep the people lawful."

"So you don't have a prison?"

"There are dungeons in the castle which serve on the rare occasions they are necessary."

"And the law allows this?"

"I'm a Justice of the Peace. Of course in the case of a major crime. . . murder, for instance . . . the criminal would have to go to the mainland. But we can deal adequately with petty matters here."

"Is there anyone in the dungeons now?"

Jago laughed. "Why, you're not afraid that some desperate man will break out, steal to your room and demand your money or your life, are you? No, Ellen, my dear, there is no one in the dungeons now. There very rarely is. They're horrible, aren't they?"

Gwennol said: "Dank, dark and said to be haunted because in the past Kellaways put their enemies there and left them to die. The ghosts of those who didn't obey Kellaway law are said to stalk the dungeons. Naturally people think twice before doing something they shouldn't when it might result in a night or two in the dungeons."

"I'd like to see them," I said.

"So you shall," Jago promised me. "The whole place is at your disposal. Explore when you like."

"As a matter of fact I did explore a little before dinner."

"Did you then?" Jago looked pleased. "Well, what did you find?"

"I saw some pigeons, brown ones. I've never seen brown pigeons before."

"We've always kept a few brown pigeons at Kellaway," said Jago. "You tell her the story Jenifry."

"It's simply that one of our ancestors was saved by a pigeon—a brown one," his sister said. "I think they originated in Italy. He was imprisoned after being captured in some battle and a little brown pigeon came and perched on his windowsill. They became friendly; the pigeon brought his mate and they shared the prisoner's food. He tamed them and used to attach messages to their legs, hoping that some of his friends would see them. It seemed a forlorn hope and when after a long, long time the message actually did reach his friends it was regarded as something of a miracle and the pigeon an instrument of fate. He was rescued and he brought back the brown pigeon and his mate with him. It was said after that that as long as there were brown pigeons at the castle there would always be Kellaways on the Island."

"A pretty story, don't you agree, Ellen?" asked Jago.

"Charming," I replied.

When the meal was over Jago rose and Jenifry, Gwennol and I followed him to a door at the end of the hall. The rest remained at table and I imagined how relaxed the company would be after we had gone, for they would surely be relieved that the ceremonial occasion was over and they would be able to talk naturally together.

We went to his parlor, where coffee was served.

The atmosphere there was decidedly more intimate. I sat beside Gwennol, who wanted to hear about my life in London, so I talked about the house near Hyde Park and how we took walks in Kensington Gardens, feeding the ducks on the Round Pond, strolling round the pleached alley which surrounded the Pond Garden.

"We have a pleached alley in our gardens," Jago told me. "And a pond garden too." It was as though he wanted the Island to compare favorably with everything I had ever known. Perhaps this was due to his pride in the Island, but I fancied too that he was anxious that I should be happy here and want to stay.

Gwennol was eager to hear more so I went on to tell her of the receptions at Cousin Agatha's and the Carringtons', of tea at Gunter's on winter afternoons, of the red carpet and awnings being put in place before the houses to receive the guests.

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