The pool of St Branok

And then I heard it. It was distinctly the sound of bells and they appeared to be coming from the pool. I must be dreaming. They heralded disaster and I could only think of my child.

I looked at Grace. She had heard them too. She was looking about her, startled. Then suddenly she darted away from me; she had run round the side of the pool towards a clump of bushes. I heard her shout. She was dragging someone with her. It was Jenny Stubbs. In her hand was a child's toy ... two bells on a stick to be shaken in order to make them ring.

Grace called: "Here are the bells."

Jenny tried to run away but Grace held her firmly.

I went over and said: "So it is you who have been playing tricks with the bells, Jenny."

She looked at me from under her lids. "My dad never got caught, he didn't. He played 'em when people came round and he didn't want them there."

Grace had taken the toy from Jenny.

She shook the stick. "So much for the Bells of St Branok," she said.

"Why did you want to drive us away, Jenny?" I asked.

"There's been a lot of them here ..." she said. "All round the pool ... And now you've come ... I thought you'd come to take her away from me."

My heart leaped in sudden hope.

"Take her, Jenny? Whom did you think we should take?"

"Her. Daisy."

"Your little girl."

She nodded. "She came back."

"Where is she?" I asked breathlessly.

She looked crafty.

I did not wait for more. I started to run towards her cottage. The door was locked. I banged on it. I heard the footsteps of a child and relief flooded over me for I knew whose they were.

"Becca!" I shouted.

"Mama. Mama. I want to come home. I don't want to be here any more."

I said: "Open the door, Jenny. Give me the key."

She was docile now. She handed it to me. I opened the door and Rebecca was in my arms.

We had a rather disjointed story from Rebecca. When Annie sat down in the road she walked on. She saw Jenny and Jenny took her hand and said she would take her home. She said she was Daisy and not Becca and her home wasn't where home was. It was somewhere else.

She had not been frightened. Jenny was nice. She gave her milk and said she must lie in the bed with Jenny. She hadn't minded until she didn't want to play that game any more.

Everyone joined in the rejoicing but my mother and I were very sorry for Jenny.

"Poor girl," said my mother. "She wouldn't have harmed the child. She thought she had found her daughter. She is very sick really. I am going to ask the Grendalls to keep her there for a bit. Mrs. Grendall is a good sort and Jenny has worked quite a bit for her. I'll go along to see her. That poor creature is in a daze."

The Grendalls were tenant farmers on the Cador estate—good, honest, hard-working people and we were sure they would help.

"She couldn't be in better hands," said my mother. "She mustn't be reproached for what she has done. She meant no harm and she cared well for Rebecca all the time she was with her. She needs to be treated very gently."

That night I had Rebecca's little bed brought into my room. She had suffered no harm from her adventure but she wanted to be close to me; and I wanted her there so that I could reassure myself through the night that she was safe and well.

The Bodmin newspapers were full of the discovery at the pool.

The watch and chain which had been found bore initials on it: M.D. and W.B. They were not engraved but appeared to have been scratched on. Readers would be reminded of a case some years ago. A man had been on trial for a particularly dastardly murder; he had sexually assaulted and murdered a young girl. He had been about to stand trial when he had escaped from jail. He had been traced to the Poldoreys area and although there had been an extensive search he had never been found. At length it had been assumed that he had escaped from the country.

He had been in the water so long that it was not easy to identify the body but certain evidence pointed to the fact that it could have been he. The watch bore the initials M.D. His name was Mervyn Duncarry. Those of W.B. might well belong to someone for whom he had a sentimental attachment. It was difficult to imagine how an escaped prisoner could have had such a watch. He certainly would not have been wearing it in prison; but his prison clothes had been discovered on Bodmin Moor so it seemed obvious that he had had help from somewhere. It could have been said that he had stolen the clothes and the watch with them and perhaps scratched on it the initials of himself and this person. The police were reading it as a clue to his identity. It could have been caught in the rocky ledge when he fell into the pool and so remained there near the surface. It was a mystery; but the police were almost convinced that the man discovered in St Branok Pool was Mervyn Duncarry—though they were not closing the files on the murder case yet.

Grace looked rather shaken, I thought. I guessed she was thinking of Rebecca wandering out on her own when there were such people in the world.