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

twelve then . . . perhaps thirteen. I should love to know about her. Tell me what you know."

"She were fond of birds," he said.

"Ah." So there had been a sort of bond between them. I had guessed that.

"Did she often come to the dovecotes and help you feed them?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, her did. And they knew her too. They'd perch on her shoulder. She were terrible fond of birds and little things. Kind and gentle she were to them."

"So you and she were great friends. I'm glad of that."

He looked suddenly happy and I knew he was seeing pictures of Silva there with the pigeons or perhaps cradling some hurt animal in her arms while she discussed with him what should best be done.

"Did she talk to you much, Slack?"

"Oh yes, Miss Ellen. She'd always talk about the birds."

"And about herself? Did she tell you whether she was happy or not?"

"She'd talk and talk . . . like I wasn't there and then she'd look up and smile and say, 'I do run on, don't I, Slacky? That's because you're such a good listener I forget you're there.' "

"And was she very unhappy?"

He looked frightened and nodded. "Yes, her used to cry and that was terrible ... I never saw anybody cry like Miss Silva did. It was laughing and crying all at once and she'd say she hated the castle and Mr. Jago and all of them."

"Why did she take the boat out that night? Do you know, Slack?"

"It were wild and stormy."

"I know. But why?"

I saw his lips press together. I believe he does know something, I thought.

"And she was drowned they say?"

He nodded, his lips still tight. "The boat were washed up," he said as though with a sudden inspiration.

'Did she go out in that boat because she was unhappy, because she was tired of living at the castle? Was she running away from something? You know, don't you, Slack?"

He nodded. "You might say she were running away."

"But to go away in a heavy sea . . ."

"There was a storm that night she left the castle," he said. "I remember the thunder and lightning. They do say that be God's anger. Do you think they'm right, Miss Ellen?"

"No," I said. "If she went out on a night like that she must have deliberately tried to kill herself. No boat could survive in a sea like that, could it?"

"You can never be sure, Miss Ellen, what can happen to boats on the sea."

"But this was washed up some days later. . . without her."

"Aye," he confirmed, "without her. I pray she be happy in the new life. 'Tis all we can do."

"Some of the servants say she haunts the Island, Slack."

"Aye, 'tis so."

"Do you believe that?"

"I do think she be still with us."

"So you believe that the ghosts of people who were unhappy in this life or met violent ends still live on."

"I'm not clever enough to say, Miss Ellen."

His pale face was impassive; the shutters were down over his eyes. I was convinced that he knew more about my half sister than he had betrayed and that I had not yet won enough of his confidence for him to tell me.

Perhaps in time he would. In the meanwhile I was obsessed by my curiosity.

The Ellen Is Lost

I had now become a good oarswoman and was as capable of handling a boat as Gwennol or Jenifry, both of whom had not referred again to Michael Hydrock and seemed to be trying to convince me that their outbursts on the subject had never taken place.

Jago was busy on the Island. He personally supervised the farms and arranged the Island's business transactions, which meant that he was constantly going back and forth to the mainland. He usually managed to spend some time of the day with me and liked nothing better than for us to ride round the Island together, when he would introduce me to the farmers and shopkeepers, the innkeeper, the parson of the little church, the doctor and all those who made up the life of the Island. We were growing closer and almost against my will I was being drawn into that magnetic aura which seemed to surround him, so that I was beginning to feel that I needed a strong dose of his society every day.

He was delighted with my progress in rowing and one morning he took me down to the cove and there was one of the boats freshly painted with "Ellen" written on the side of it. I was very proud of that.

After that I used to take the Ellen out by myself but I never went far out to sea. I liked to skirt the Island and put in at some bay which I had not visited before; there I would lie and think of what had happened to me and wonder what the future held. There was so much I had to learn and it seemed to me that those about me were inclined to be overreticent, which in itself suggested a mystery. I believed that if I could discover what had really happened to Silva I would have a key to the whole situation. Why had Silva gone out in a flimsy boat during a violent storm? If she had really done that there was only one answer: Because she was tired of life and saw that as a way out of what had become intolerable.

Had she determined to end it all? My poor sister, how unhappy she must have been! "I am a prisoner in this room." Oh, but she had been a child when she wrote that, shut in her room and told to do some task before she was released. It happened to most children at some time, but she had overdramatized the situation. She was unbalanced, Jago had said; and he did not want to talk of her. He had not been interested in her and had dismissed her as unbalanced.