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Authors: Victoria Holt
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how we could get them. Then one day when I went to Menfreya I found her in a state of excitement.
She greeted me with the words: “I’ve something to show you. Come on. It’s where you’ve never been before,”
Menfreya always seemed mysterious to me because there was so much of it which I had never explored, and the thought of seeing a new part excited me, so I eagerly followed Gwennan, who led me through the house to the east wing, which was never used and was the oldest part of Menfreya.
“This wing needs so many repairs that until they can be done we can’t live in it Who’d want to anyway? I came here yesterday but I didn’t like to stay, because it was getting dark.” We had climbed a short staircase and reached a door which she pushed but could not open.
“It was hard to open yesterday, but I managed it Before that it hadn’t been opened for years, I expect—not since Bevil and I came here ages ago. Don’t stand there. Give a hand.”
Victoria Holt
47
I put my shoulder to the door and pushed with all my might It moved slowly at first and then flew open to disclose a gloomy passage which smelt of age and damp. We walked down this.
“We must be near the east buttress,** I whispered.
“There’s no need to murmur,” Gwennan shouted. “No one can hear us. We’re shut right away. Buttress is right. That’s where I’m taking you.”
My teeth were chattering—with excitement, not cold, although there was a chill hi the air.
“Fancy having all this and never coming here,” I said.
“Somebody went over it once and gave such an estimate for what had to be done that we forgot all about it That was the time when I came here exploring with Bevil.”
“When you were children?”
She didn’t answer. “Mind these stairs. Hold the rope.” We had come to a small spiral staircase; each step was steep and worn in the middle; the rope acted as a banister and a means of pulling oneself up the stairs. Gwennan stood at the top and grinned at me. She held up her hands. “Look at the dust.”
“What made you come here?”
**You’ll see. Look at this door. It was put in a long time after this place was built. Once there was just a panel which you could slide and let yourself into the room.”
“What room?”
“This leads to a sort of passage and then … into the haunted room. This door’s hard to open, too.”
It was; it gave a whine of protest which sounded like a human voice warning us not to go in—at least, that was what I suggested, and it made Gwennan shriek with laughter.
‘Trust you to think up that! Now.… through here. It leads to the buttress.”
The air was really chill now; the passage was narrow, the wall of stone. We were almost in the dark, and I reached for ‘Gwennan and clutched her skirt.
The passage opened out into what was scarcely a room— more like a circular aperture. There was no window but a slit in the deep wall open to the air, and through this came a little daylight.
**What a strange place!” I cried.
“Of course, it is. They used to keep prisoners here in the old days. Then, of course, he kept her here … and then it became haunted.”
48
Menfreya in the Morning
“You are incoherent, Gwennan.”
She watched my amazement with gratification as I looked round the place. Strangely enough, there was a mirror propped against the wall; its glass was mottled, its frame tarnished, and there was a trunk, green with mildew. I noticed another passage like that we had come through and pointed this out to Gwennan.
“Come on, then. 111 show you.” She led the way into the passage, where, facing us, was another spiral staircase like the one we had just mounted. She began to climb it, counting the steep steps as she did so. There were forty, and at the top we were out in the open air on a narrow circular walk which took us around the buttress.
“This is where she used to come up for air,” Gwennan announced.
“Who?”
“Her, of course. If she really
She greeted me with the words: “I’ve something to show you. Come on. It’s where you’ve never been before,”
Menfreya always seemed mysterious to me because there was so much of it which I had never explored, and the thought of seeing a new part excited me, so I eagerly followed Gwennan, who led me through the house to the east wing, which was never used and was the oldest part of Menfreya.
“This wing needs so many repairs that until they can be done we can’t live in it Who’d want to anyway? I came here yesterday but I didn’t like to stay, because it was getting dark.” We had climbed a short staircase and reached a door which she pushed but could not open.
“It was hard to open yesterday, but I managed it Before that it hadn’t been opened for years, I expect—not since Bevil and I came here ages ago. Don’t stand there. Give a hand.”
Victoria Holt
47
I put my shoulder to the door and pushed with all my might It moved slowly at first and then flew open to disclose a gloomy passage which smelt of age and damp. We walked down this.
“We must be near the east buttress,** I whispered.
“There’s no need to murmur,” Gwennan shouted. “No one can hear us. We’re shut right away. Buttress is right. That’s where I’m taking you.”
My teeth were chattering—with excitement, not cold, although there was a chill hi the air.
“Fancy having all this and never coming here,” I said.
“Somebody went over it once and gave such an estimate for what had to be done that we forgot all about it That was the time when I came here exploring with Bevil.”
“When you were children?”
She didn’t answer. “Mind these stairs. Hold the rope.” We had come to a small spiral staircase; each step was steep and worn in the middle; the rope acted as a banister and a means of pulling oneself up the stairs. Gwennan stood at the top and grinned at me. She held up her hands. “Look at the dust.”
“What made you come here?”
**You’ll see. Look at this door. It was put in a long time after this place was built. Once there was just a panel which you could slide and let yourself into the room.”
“What room?”
“This leads to a sort of passage and then … into the haunted room. This door’s hard to open, too.”
It was; it gave a whine of protest which sounded like a human voice warning us not to go in—at least, that was what I suggested, and it made Gwennan shriek with laughter.
‘Trust you to think up that! Now.… through here. It leads to the buttress.”
The air was really chill now; the passage was narrow, the wall of stone. We were almost in the dark, and I reached for ‘Gwennan and clutched her skirt.
The passage opened out into what was scarcely a room— more like a circular aperture. There was no window but a slit in the deep wall open to the air, and through this came a little daylight.
**What a strange place!” I cried.
“Of course, it is. They used to keep prisoners here in the old days. Then, of course, he kept her here … and then it became haunted.”
48
Menfreya in the Morning
“You are incoherent, Gwennan.”
She watched my amazement with gratification as I looked round the place. Strangely enough, there was a mirror propped against the wall; its glass was mottled, its frame tarnished, and there was a trunk, green with mildew. I noticed another passage like that we had come through and pointed this out to Gwennan.
“Come on, then. 111 show you.” She led the way into the passage, where, facing us, was another spiral staircase like the one we had just mounted. She began to climb it, counting the steep steps as she did so. There were forty, and at the top we were out in the open air on a narrow circular walk which took us around the buttress.
“This is where she used to come up for air,” Gwennan announced.
“Who?”
“Her, of course. If she really
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