Saraband for Two Sisters

There are unbreakable ties between us and I am glad that you have come back to us.”

“Do tell us what happened,” begged Rozen.

“I went to Court. I married a gentleman of rank. We had a child, Carlotta. I had always wanted to see you but of late the urge became irresistible. I must see you and Castle Paling before I was too old to travel. My husband agreed that I should pay a visit. He could not accompany us. He has a post at Court. So we set out. We arrived in London ... and we traveled here by stages. That is all and now we are here and right glad to see you.”

“You will stay with us for a long while, I hope,” said my mother. “I have a feeling that I shall not be eager to leave this place. I must go back to Spain in due course, but to me Castle Paling is what I think of when I say home.” My mother was deeply moved; so was Aunt Melanie.

Uncle Connell said that we must all drink to the return of Senara with her daughter and she must regard Castle Paling as her home for as long as she wished to, to which my mother replied with some firmness: “Senara was my sister. There is a home for her at Trystan Priory if she so wishes it” Senara held out one hand to my mother and one to Aunt Melanie. “God’s blessings on you both!” she cried, “and right glad I am to be here. I long to be once more in the Castle, but when I lived here, Tamsyn was my sister. We shared a bedroom at one time, do you remember, Tamsyn?”

“Until you went to the Red Room.”

Senara closed her eyes and laughed and I knew that she and Mother exchanged some memory.

“You were my sister and it was to be with you that I came here. Yet the castle was my home ... all the time I lived here. I will go with you, Tamsyn, for a while and then I will come back and stay at Castle Paling. How’s that? Of course it may well be that you will not want me here.”

“Not want you!” cried Melanie. ‘Why, it was your home.»

“We change in ... how many years is it, Tamsyn? Nearly thirty. What time has done to us! You do not look the age I know you must be. You live again in these delightful twins.”

“As you do in your Carlotta. Women stay young when they think young and feel young and look young,” said my mother.

Senara touched her plentiful black hair, in which there did not appear to be one gray strand. “I have always cared what I look like. As did my mother. She had many secrets.”

“She lives still?” asked my mother.

“In Madrid in grand style. It is how she always wanted to live. She resented it here.”

“And she has remained young and beautiful?”

“Not young-even she could not manage that. But she still is beautiful. She rules her household like a queen and it is said that she is more royal than royalty.»

“Yes, I can believe it. What did she think of your coming to England?”

“She scarcely gave the matter a thought. Perhaps she considered me a little mad. But she knew that I had been brought up by your mother and your influence was strong with me. You had made me sentimental, affectionate ... a little like yourselves. Therefore I had these odd notions.”

Uncle Connell said, “I have a very special black cherry brandy. I shall send to the wine cellars for it. We will all drink to celebrate your return.»

“You are good to me, Connell,” said Senara. “Never shall I forget how you helped me escape from this house.”

“Do you think I would have allowed the mob to lay hands on you?»

“You became master of the castle on that night. Everyone knew then that though the old master lay crippled in his chair, there was a new one as strong to take his place.” I was fascinated. As they talked I was trying to piece the story together. One day I should read it all in the diaries of my mother and her mother, Linnet, who had been the one who had rescued the witch from the sea, that witch who was this Senara’s mother.

We sat at the table. No one wished to move. They went on talking and we of the younger generation listened avidly, and as they talked a storm began to rise. The sky grew dark and we could hear the wind rousing the sea.

Melanie called for more candles to be lighted and the servants tiptoed around lighting them while the storm outside seemed to be increasing.

Still we sat on. It was as though no one wanted to leave that table; and Aunt Melanie, my mother, Senara, and Uncle Connell talked of the old days and the picture of their lives began to take shape.

Then suddenly the door was slung open. We heard the roar of a voice which there was no mistaking. It belonged to Grandfather Casvellyn.

He propelled himself into the hall, his eyes looking wilder than ever as they raked the table and came to rest on Senara.

Melanie had risen to her feet.

“Father ... how did you come here? How did you leave the Seaward Tower?” He glared at her. “No matter,” he shouted. “I did. They brought me down. They carried me and brought me here. I insisted. If I want to come into any part of my castle I’ll do so. She’s here, they tell me. She’s come again... as they did all those years ago... the witch’s girl.”