The adulteress

"I must make my plans to go home now ... at once," I told him. "I've had a letter. Jean-Louis's accident was more than a broken leg. He has injured his spine. I wonder if he is going to be an invalid."

Gerard looked at me incredulously.

"Yes," I went on, "I have had a letter from my mother. I shall have to go soon. I can't delay. This is terrible."

He held me against him and I felt the desire rising within me potent as ever. I felt I could not bear to leave him. I leaned my head against him. I was looking blankly into a future which did not hold him. I saw the dreary years stretching ahead of me.

He said: "I too must go... ."

"It's the end then."

"It need not be," he said. "It is for you to decide."

"Jean-Louis has been hurt."

"What of me? What of us?"

"He is my husband," I said. "I have vowed to love him ... in sickness ... in health. If only I had never come here."

"Don't regret it. You have loved ... you have lived."

"And I shall live on to regret ... all my life."

He said abruptly: "When do you propose to go?"

"Before the week is out."

He bowed his head. Then he took my hand and kissed it. "Zipporah," he said, "if ever you should change your mind ..."

"Do you mean, you will be waiting for me?"

He nodded. "But you have not yet gone. There is still a little time left to me ... to us ... time for me to persuade you ..."

I shook my head. "I know I have been weak ... I have been wicked ... but there are some things which even I could not do."

I don't think he believed me. After all, I had been so eager, so willing, that he thought that when the time came I would abandon everything for him.

I knew I never would. I knew that no matter what happened I had to go back to Jean-Louis.

I had made up my mind that I was going to warn Uncle Carl. I did not mention my imminent departure to Jessie as I intended to speak to him first and I chose the afternoon when I knew we should be safe from intrusion.

He looked pleased to see me and into his eyes there crept that mischievous look which I did not understand. Sometimes I wondered how far his mind wandered into the past because lately it had become increasingly clear that he confused me with my ancestress Carlotta, who had clearly made a great impression on him in his youth.

I realized that almost immediately after my arrival I had met Gerard and even from that first meeting I had been so obsessed with him that the full implication of what might be happening in this house had not struck me so forcibly as it did now that I was on the point of departure.

A cry for help, Sabrina had said. Well, it was, in a way. Not that he was asking for help—although I was sure he was aware of the dangers of his situation. He did not seem to care about danger. He was like an onlooker watching with amusement the strange antics of human beings—even though he himself was one of the main actors in the drama.

Sometimes I thought he was too old to care what happened and as long as Jessie was there to administer to his comforts he was quite prepared for anything she might do—in fact took a lively interest in waiting to see which turn her actions would take.

It was all very strange—as everything had been since my arrival.

Therefore I had made up my mind that I must speak plainly to him and point out the danger in which he could be.

I began by telling him about my mother's letter.

"My husband is not as well as we thought. At first it seemed that he suffered only from a broken leg and we thought that as soon as that mended he would be all right. There seems to be some complication, so I must go home."

He nodded. "So you will be leaving us. I shall be sorry."

"I will come again ... perhaps with Jean-Louis or my mother or Sabrina."

"That would be good. I trust you have enjoyed your stay here."

"Oh yes ... yes."

He was smiling, was it secretly? "It seems to agree with you, Carlotta."

I looked at him steadily and said: "I am Zipporah."

"Of course. My mind wanders. I'm back in the past years and years ago. It's not the first time, is it? I suppose it's because you have a look of her. I notice it more every day."

I said: "Uncle Carl, I want to say something to you which you might not like. You must understand I am only thinking of you."

I saw the faintly imperceptible twitch of his lips which I had come to know indicated amusement.

"My dear child," he said, "you are so good to me ... so kind ... so solicitous of my welfare. You have already gone to great trouble to do what I asked. I thought your French gentleman charming ... quite charming ..." His bright eyes were on my face. "And so do you, eh?"

I knew the color was rising to my cheeks, and I thought: He knows. How can he know? Has Jessie spied on my? Has she talked about me with him?

"It was good of him to get me quickly into the town and to help us with the will." I went on quickly: "It is that that I wanted to speak to you about, Uncle Carl."