where there was an upholstered window seat upon which she always knelt to look out. The predawn air was cold in the embrasure, and the mullioned window was indeed ajar, although she was certain it had been closed when she retired.
Her room faced south over the hidden valley toward the Green Man and Elcester village. A spring mist enveloped the woods at the bottom of the valley, so that only the tallest trees were visible, but the sky far above was clear, and the moon, more than three-quarters full, cast a cold clear light over the countryside. To the west rose the ridge along which the Stroud road passed; to the east the valley descended gradually and secretly toward the hamlet of Inchmead, some two miles away, and two miles beyond that the small mill town of Nailsworth.
Below the window, the manor’s terraced gardens descended into the mist. The fountain played in the topiary garden, where the paths were laid in a symmetrical pattern that had been set down in the sixteenth century. Ursula’s attention was drawn to two squirrels playing around the base of the fountain; then she saw more running along the low urn-topped wall between the topiary garden and the rose garden on the hazy lower level. In fact, there were squirrels everywhere. Daniel Pedlar was right, there was a plague of them!
Then something else caught her eye, an incongruous bobbing light on the far side of the valley. Someone was carrying a lantern down through the field behind the Green Man. Who would be out at this hour? Not Rufus Almore, that much was certain. As she watched, the lantern disappeared into the mist as whoever it was entered the woods close to Hazel Pool. Down in the gardens, the squirrels had melted away into the mist.
A dog began to bark in the grooms’ quarters over the manor stables, and she heard the horses shifting nervously in their stalls. Voices drifted up to her as the men were aroused from their beds and went to see what was wrong. Ursula wanted to know as well, so she hastily donned shoes and a sensible aquamarine merino gown and dragged a brush through her hair before tying it back with a white ribbon. Seizing her gray cloak, she hurried from her room.
Her father had also been disturbed, and was down in the stables in his nightshirt, purple dressing robe, and tasseled hat. The dog was no longer barking, and the horses were quieter. No one knew what had upset the animals, for a search had revealed no sign of an intruder. The head groom shook his head in mystification, and then muttered something about it being ‘that whatever-it-was down in the woods’. Ursula felt a chill finger pass down her spine as she remembered the lantern.
Mr. Elcester decided to make another search of the stables himself, and would not hear of Ursula staying outside. “No, m’dear, you go back to your bed.”
“But—
“Do as I ask, m’dear.”
“Very well.” She kissed his cheek and began to return to the house, but as she passed the steps down to the first garden terrace, she paused to look in the direction of the woods and Hazel Pool. The first gray light of dawn now marked the eastern sky, and a vixen screamed somewhere, an eerie sound that always made her heart quicken a little. Then she thought she heard something else. Voices? She wasn’t sure. A strange feeling of excitement and curiosity began to course through her. If something was going on in the woods—her father’s woods— then she ought to find out what it was. Her father wouldn’t know what she was up to, because he would think she was safe in bed. Valor nudged common sense aside, and she gathered her skirts to hurry down the steps.
She descended through the terraces, and on reaching the misty rose garden at the bottom, she opened the door in the tall boundary wall. Beyond it lay the lower park sloping away toward the woods. Rufus Almore’s fright crossed her mind briefly, but then she was outside and hurrying along the path through the dew-soaked grass. The mist
Her room faced south over the hidden valley toward the Green Man and Elcester village. A spring mist enveloped the woods at the bottom of the valley, so that only the tallest trees were visible, but the sky far above was clear, and the moon, more than three-quarters full, cast a cold clear light over the countryside. To the west rose the ridge along which the Stroud road passed; to the east the valley descended gradually and secretly toward the hamlet of Inchmead, some two miles away, and two miles beyond that the small mill town of Nailsworth.
Below the window, the manor’s terraced gardens descended into the mist. The fountain played in the topiary garden, where the paths were laid in a symmetrical pattern that had been set down in the sixteenth century. Ursula’s attention was drawn to two squirrels playing around the base of the fountain; then she saw more running along the low urn-topped wall between the topiary garden and the rose garden on the hazy lower level. In fact, there were squirrels everywhere. Daniel Pedlar was right, there was a plague of them!
Then something else caught her eye, an incongruous bobbing light on the far side of the valley. Someone was carrying a lantern down through the field behind the Green Man. Who would be out at this hour? Not Rufus Almore, that much was certain. As she watched, the lantern disappeared into the mist as whoever it was entered the woods close to Hazel Pool. Down in the gardens, the squirrels had melted away into the mist.
A dog began to bark in the grooms’ quarters over the manor stables, and she heard the horses shifting nervously in their stalls. Voices drifted up to her as the men were aroused from their beds and went to see what was wrong. Ursula wanted to know as well, so she hastily donned shoes and a sensible aquamarine merino gown and dragged a brush through her hair before tying it back with a white ribbon. Seizing her gray cloak, she hurried from her room.
Her father had also been disturbed, and was down in the stables in his nightshirt, purple dressing robe, and tasseled hat. The dog was no longer barking, and the horses were quieter. No one knew what had upset the animals, for a search had revealed no sign of an intruder. The head groom shook his head in mystification, and then muttered something about it being ‘that whatever-it-was down in the woods’. Ursula felt a chill finger pass down her spine as she remembered the lantern.
Mr. Elcester decided to make another search of the stables himself, and would not hear of Ursula staying outside. “No, m’dear, you go back to your bed.”
“But—
“Do as I ask, m’dear.”
“Very well.” She kissed his cheek and began to return to the house, but as she passed the steps down to the first garden terrace, she paused to look in the direction of the woods and Hazel Pool. The first gray light of dawn now marked the eastern sky, and a vixen screamed somewhere, an eerie sound that always made her heart quicken a little. Then she thought she heard something else. Voices? She wasn’t sure. A strange feeling of excitement and curiosity began to course through her. If something was going on in the woods—her father’s woods— then she ought to find out what it was. Her father wouldn’t know what she was up to, because he would think she was safe in bed. Valor nudged common sense aside, and she gathered her skirts to hurry down the steps.
She descended through the terraces, and on reaching the misty rose garden at the bottom, she opened the door in the tall boundary wall. Beyond it lay the lower park sloping away toward the woods. Rufus Almore’s fright crossed her mind briefly, but then she was outside and hurrying along the path through the dew-soaked grass. The mist
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