The pool of St Branok

"Oh, Justin, I'm so glad. You'll have to forget all that has gone before."

"You've been a good friend to me, Angelet. I feel safe with you. You'd not betray me."

I laughed. "My dear Justin, I don't think you are so very wicked. I suppose you only took from the rich."

"Well ... perhaps not in the township ..."

"If you give it up ... if you live honorably from now on ... I think you can be very happy. It must have been a terrible strain ... wondering all the time that you might be caught."

"Yes ... but there was a sort of excitement which is irresistible."

"But you have Morwenna and Pedrek to think of now. Can you give all that up, Justin?"

"Yes, I can do it," he said.

I was glad for Morwenna's sake. She at least could be happy.

And so the days passed and the ship was taking us nearer and nearer to home.

At last the great day arrived.

What a bustle of preparation! What a mass of emotion! We were all on deck to catch the first glimpse of the white cliffs.

And at last I saw my parents and those of Morwenna eagerly scanning the passengers as they disembarked. Then the cry of joy and my parents side by side staring at me in wonder for there was I with their granddaughter in my arms.

We seemed to be in a huddle. My father and mother were trying to embrace me at the same time; and it was happening like that with Morwenna. Justin stood by smiling.

"My dearest child," cried my mother. "Oh ... Angelet ..." There were tears in her eyes. "And this is Rebecca. Oh, what a beautiful child! She is just like you were. Look, Rolf ..."

They were both ecstatic.

"Thank God you've come home," said my father.

We were all going to London first to spend a few days there before returning to Cador.

"Everyone in London wants to see you," said my mother, "so that has all been arranged. Let me take the baby, Angelet. My goodness, you are thin. We'll have to remedy that."

My father took the light luggage. The rest was to be sent direct to Cornwall.

And so we arrived in London.

We stayed at the house in the square which was the most convenient. The whole family was there to greet us—Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis, Matthew and Helena with Geoffrey and Peterkin and Frances: Grace Hume came too.

They all kissed me fondly and marveled at the baby.

"I hope you don't mind my intrusion at this very special occasion," said Grace. "But everyone is so kind to me that I really feel I am one of the family."

"It is wonderful to see you, Grace," I said.

"You must come and stay with us in Cornwall now that Angelet is home," added my mother.

Amaryllis was cooing over the babies. They were being put together in the old nursery and the servants were vying with each other for the privilege of looking after them.

To sleep in a luxurious bed, to eat graciously, to be back in this world of ease and comfort, was wonderful. But one soon grew accustomed to such things and the dull ache returned.

I thought of Gervaise ... dead, and Ben far away ... and I felt incredibly lonely.

During the days we were in London my mother was very concerned for me.

She said: "Do you want to talk about it? My poor darling, it must have been terrible for you. He was so very noble. There was a piece in the papers about it. When he heard what had happened Uncle Peter arranged that." She smiled ruefully. "You know how he likes to squeeze a little advantage out of everything that happens."

I could visualize the caption: "Relative of Matthew Hume in valiant rescue. The hero who lost his life saving a friend is related to Matthew Hume, the well-known politician ..." And I could imagine his thought: This will be worth a few votes.

I said I could talk about it.

"If only you had never gone out there," said my mother.

"Gervaise wanted it."

"Yes ... I heard about the debts."

"He thought if he found gold he would pay it all back."

"Gambling, wasn't it? So many young men fall foul of that. They have to learn their lesson."

I did not tell her that Gervaise would never have learned the lesson. He was a born gambler and would have remained so. I wanted her to keep the picture of the gallant hero.

"And he never saw Rebecca!"

"No. But he knew she was coming."

"Poor Gervaise. My dearest, you will get over it. You are young. At the time these things happen they seem overwhelming."

"Yes," I agreed. "I have to get over it."

"And you have the adorable Rebecca. We are going to take you home.

We're going to take care of you. I don't know whether you will want to stay in Cornwall ... but you need time to sort things out. You have the house here ... the one you had when you married."

"It's not mine really," I said. "Uncle Peter has it as a security against the money he lent to Gervaise so that he could pay his debts and go to Australia. That house will belong to Uncle Peter now."

"He has told us about this and has said that he will waive the debts and the house should be yours when you returned."

"Oh no ... the debts should be paid ... to him."