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triumphantly, ‘but then I’m a witch, as I told you, and of course witches eat the most peculiar things.’ She frowned. ‘Why do you suppose Uncle Garth is bringing a French boy here?’ It was obvious she found the prospect genuinely distasteful.
    I smiled. ‘How should I know?’
    She shrugged. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He won’t be here for long. I’ll get rid of him soon enough. I’m going now,’ she announced, and then added with incongruous politeness, ‘Shall I shut the panel before I go?’
    ‘Yes, I think you’d better,’ I said primly. ‘I imagine it would be rather draughty with it open.’
    She giggled delightedly. ‘Actually, no, it isn’t. In fact it’s quite cosy in the passage. Would you like to try?’
    I hesitated, then saw the sly look in the glassy eyes. What hideous tricks would the wretched child get up to should I avail myself on her invitation?’No, thanks,’ I declined. ‘I don’t imagine I should find it at all comfortable.’
    She sighed. ‘Oh, very well, but I’ll show you how it works if you like.’
    I was too curious to resist this invitation. I followed her across the room and watched as she pressed on the bevelled sides of the panelling. Silently the square of wood moved forward. ‘I oiled it so that it wouldn’t squeak,’ she informed me seriously. ‘Actually I’d go back that way again, only I heard one of the maids begin polishing the gallery.’
    ‘And does the gallery panel work on the same system?’ I asked her.
    She appeared pleased at my interest. ‘Yes, it’s just the same. It’s under a portrait of a horrid, prissy-looking lady with two dogs, with bulgy eyes. So if ever you feel like coming along to your room that way, you may do so,’ she conceded graciously.
    ‘No, thanks,’ I said, ‘I think I’d prefer the more orthodox method.’
    ‘Oh, very well,’ she shrugged, but I got the impression that she was disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm.
    As soon as she was gone I pulled the heavy Portuguese bridal chest along the floor and placed it firmly against the panel. Well, at least, I thought with satisfaction, that would put a stop to the wretched child’s tricks as far as I was concerned, for I knew it would take more strength than her stick-like arms had to push away the iron-bound chest.
    That night, as I lay in the great four-poster with the windows open I could hear the sound of the sea as it dashed against the boulders in the cove. On the following day I must investigate my surroundings, I decided; if I was to have a few days free before taking up my duties I would spend them exploring Tregillis, getting myself acclimatised and trying to find out as much as possible concerning Giles Seaton, Tregillis’s new master.

CHAPTER THREE
    ON the following day I got up early and restored the chest to its original position. The servants might discuss the fact that I, a newcomer, had rearranged the furniture.
    Something had happened the previous night that had kept me wakeful and restless. It had happened soon after Melinda had departed, for after I had moved the chest into position I saw that my arms and hands were grimy from dust that had gathered in the wrought-iron binding. Evidently Mrs. Kinnefer’s eagle eye had missed these signs of neglect on the part of her staff. I had decided it was time for the belated freshen-up that Mrs. Kinnefer had spoken of and had taken my sponge-bag and gone into the corridor.
    But as I had wandered along past what seemed to me a vast number of closed doors I had realized that I hadn’t the smallest idea where the nearest bathroom was, and the house appeared even larger than it did from outside. Deadly silence seemed to hover over the long deserted corridors so that I had felt as if I were alone in a vast, still world. What lay behind those closed doors? I had wondered. What ancient secrets did the old house harbour during its hundreds of years? It had seen generations come and go; balls and sieges,