Saraband for Two Sisters

That was what I wanted to do now.

I went to the altar. The cloth had been made by several of the ladies of the household one hundred and fifty years ago, Richard had once told me. I touched the stitching reverently. It was so delicately worked, and the colors were exquisite. One day I thought, When my baby is older I will make an altar cloth and I will find just such colors as these. That blue is so beautiful ... blue for happiness ... wasn’t that a saying? How neatly it was finished off. I wondered how they had done that. ... I had turned the cloth in my hands and as I did so I must have jerked it forward. There was a clatter as the chalice fell to the floor and in the next second I was hit by one of the vessels, the cloth came away in my hands, I was lying on the chapel floor and at that moment I felt for the first time the movement of my child and I fainted.

Mrs. Cherry was standing over me. Bersaba was there too. I noticed Mrs. Cherry’s face was so pale that the network of red veins stood out on her cheeks. She was shaking.

Bersaba, kneeling beside me, was saying, “It’s all right. She’s better now.” She was undoing the collar of my bodice. “All right, Angel. You fainted. It often happens at this stage.” Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. “Don’t move for a bit. Just stay here. You’ll feel all right in a moment. Then I’ll get you to your room.

But it’s nothing. It happens.”

So I lay on the cold floor of the chapel and I remember feeling the life inside me, and I kept repeating Bersaba’s words: “It often happens at this stage.” Bersaba said, “You should rest for an hour or so. It’s nothing. Women often faint the first time they feel the movement. Then you get used to it of course. You’ve probably got a lively child.”

It was pleasant lying there. She talked about how she had been with Arabella and how all these little things were a part of a woman’s life during pregnancy. “It’s fortunate for me that you have gone through it all before,” I said.

“And that I’m here to look after you.”

“I hope you always will be,” I answered.

“Now you’ll have to look after me sometime.”

I slept a little and she must have left me, for when I woke up it was to find Mrs.

Cherry coming into the room.

“I just had to come in and assure myself you were all right, my lady.»

“It was nothing, Mrs. Cherry. Just a faint when the baby moved. My sister says it’s normal. It often happens the first time.”

“It was the chapel what worried me,” said Mrs. Cherry.

“I was looking at the altar cloth. It’s so beautifully worked, and I must have pulled it off.”

“And kneeling there at the altar, were you?”

“Yes, I was.”

She frowned a little. ‘Well, my lady, I just wondered. We’re all anxious about you, you know.”

“I do know it and I wish you wouldn’t be. Everything’s perfectly all right.”

“Oh, I do hope so, my lady!” she said vehemently.

And there I was ... uneasy again.

I could not sleep. They say women have strange fancies when they are pregnant. I certainly had them that night. It began when I thought I heard stealthy footsteps creaking on the stairs. It’s nothing, I soothed myself. Just old boards and my fancy. I remembered how often I had been afraid of the dark when I was a child and what a comfort it was to know that Bersaba was close. But there was something in the air that night, something that meant danger. But we lived in dangerous times. Almost without thinking I rose from my bed and, putting on slippers and a robe, made my way to Bersaba’s room.

My heart leaped in fear for she was not there. The bedclothes had been thrown back as though she had left hurriedly. Then I had heard footsteps on the stairs-Bersaba’s! There was a full moon and the room was almost as light as day. I went to the window and looked out. I stood there for a few moments before I saw my sister. She was running across the grass as though her life depended on escape.

“Bersaba!” I cried out. ‘What-‘ I stopped short, for I saw that she was pursued by something-a large, loping, ungainly creature. It had a human shape and yet I was not sure that it was a man.

I started to shout, “The soldiers are here!” as I ran from the room and sped down the stairs. My one thought was to save my sister.

“Bersaba!” I cried again. The creature stopped, halted by the sound of my voice.

It turned uncertainly and came lumbering toward me. I could not see its face-perhaps that was fortunate-but I knew that I was in the presence of something not quite natural-something baleful, evil, and that I was in acute danger.

I heard Bersaba scream, “Run, Angel!”

Then almost immediately there was the sound of a gun. The figure swayed and I saw its huge arms rise as it staggered and fell onto the grass.