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us."
    Within the moment she was tugging at his hand. Gently he protested, "Wait, please . . ." Again he looked helplessly back toward Dana. Unfortunately the old man seemed to have gone temporarily blind with pity.
    "Edward, please," she begged again. "Don't tease me. You've no idea how long I have searched for you. And Daniel is waiting."
    With no choice, he allowed her to drag him forward a few feet, and might have gone all the way with her had he not at the last moment remembered Mr. Rexroat's strong command that he stay out of the upper regions of the castle.
    "Wait, Jennifer," he begged, withdrawing his hand. He sat quickly on the edge of the cot and gently patted the place beside him, indicating that she was to follow suit. "Come. We've time," he said.
    Her face at first seemed to register objection. But at the last moment she sat beside him, clasping his hand, pressing it to her cheek, then to her breast. "Oh, Edward," she sighed. "I become so frightened when I lose you. You must give me a daily schedule of all your activities so I'll always know where to find you."
    In an attempt to soothe her, he laughed quietly. "Now, how would you lose me? One loses a pair of gloves, a book, not a—"
    "Oh, it's quite easy to lose people in this place," she interrupted. She seemed to be looking around her, seeing clearly her surroundings. "What are you doing here, Edward?" she asked, dropping his hand. "This is the servants' hall. Papa doesn't like us to come down here. You know that."
    Then the tugging was on again, joined now by new desperation. "Oh, come, Edward, please," she begged, "let's get out of here."
    At that moment her voice seemed to break. Suddenly her hands flew up to her mouth as though to cancel out her last words. Her eyes, over her trembling hands, were wide and distended.
    Unable to watch such a spectacle of confusion and fear, John knelt before her. "I am not Edward, Jennifer," he began softly. Im . . .
    He thought he saw a brief light of reason in her eyes, as though she'd grasped his words, had seen clearly the subtle differences between the one kneeling before her and the one recently buried in the graveyard.
    Was it true recognition? He couldn't be certain, but suddenly she

    was pulling backward, her head shaking back and forth. "No," she protested, "not dead, not Edward . . ."
    As she dragged herself across the cot, she almost fell off the other side. Dana moved forward first, both hands extended in assistance. But at the sight of those hands, she righted herself and ran to the far wall, increasing both distance and isolation.
    "No, wait," John commanded. "Jennifer, please," he begged. "We only want to . . ."
    But again she pushed back into the comer, her terror a thing of substance.
    "Jennifer. . ."
    But the woman who once had responded to the name of Jennifer was missing, and in her place was a husk filled with tenor. He saw a thin stream of spittle running down her jaw.
    Uncertain whether he should advance or retreat, hearing the continuous siren of her screams, he looked frantically back at Dana, only to find the man in close huddle in the doorway with several servants who obviously had been summoned by her screams. "Fetch her ladyship/' he heard Dana shout over the din. He saw the message relayed to the back of the gaping servants, saw a lady's maid whisper something which seemed momentarily to defeat Dana.
    Angrily John watched the inefficient little gathering. Something had to be done. Jennifer had dissolved into a frenzy of motion, pulling at her hair, then shaking her head angrily, animal fashion, as though mystified that the pain could not be altered.
    Again John shouted at the gaping servants. "For God's sake, do something—"
    At that moment the light of a solution seemed to blaze on Dana's face. "Get Aggie!" he commanded one of the stewards.
    Within the instant, the man had fled.
    John looked back toward Jennifer and prayed quickly for Aggie's arrival, whoever that might be. Jennifer's fingers