The weeds had begun to spring back, and you could no longer see that a body had lain there. With the rain and cooler weather, the grass was greening again, and water droplets beaded the blades, sparkling like jewels in the sunlight. A few spikes of faded goldenrod nodded heavily against the stone wall in the breeze. I had noticed this morning that Mrs. Moyle’s basket was gone, maybe taken by the wind. Or by someone unaware of why it had been abandoned there.
I glanced up the hill toward Roche Rock, studying the chapel’s gap-toothed battlements and the upper floor’s arched window, sunlight winking in the stained glass. Might he have seen me from there? It was too far, I should have thought, for him to see me verywell. I wouldn’t have been able to make outhisfeatures at this distance.
Now I turned my gaze south, letting it skim over the rocky heath and across the surface of a dark pool, finally landing on a thick cluster of silver birch on the other side. I caught the glint of something in the trees, and I squinted, trying to make it out. Likely just sunlight bouncing off water droplets, but I had met poachers in that wood. I believed the boys were at it regularly, and I thought if anyone had ever seen the master of the estate before yesterday, it would’ve been them.
Squinting again over the ground that sloped toward the black outcrop, I considered. The afternoon was still bright, with a couple of hours remaining before the sun set. Did I dare? Especially knowing now that Mr. Tregarrick might be watching me?
Let him. Let him come out and speak to me—shoo me off his land, even—instead of hiding up in those rocks like some great spider.
I glanced down at my basket, which contained the day’s uneaten scones, and thought of leaving it behind until my return; the kitchen towel over the top would keep the birds out. Then I recalled the paring knife resting underneath and changed my mind. The blade was small enough for a pocket but would likely work mischief there.
After picking my way over a tumbledown section of wall, I stepped onto a deer path. The day had turned very fine, and it lifted my spirits. Less than a month ago, this ground had been covered with heather flowers—tiny and bell shaped, in white, pink, and purple—mixed in with bracken and sunny yellow furze. Some of the furze bushes still bloomed, and a few butter-yellow spearwort flowers nodded in the breeze around the edges of the pool.
The path I now trod ran beyond the heath and all the way down to Coldvreath, where Mum and I used to visit the holy well on days when we hadn’t many chores to do. It was a secret between us, for Da neverwould have agreed to us crossing Tregarrick’s heath. The road would have taken us there, too, but the walk was longer and not as pleasant, especially when the carts were kicking up either dust or mud.
I paused when I reached the birch trees, which looked like a thicket of long, white matchsticks with flaming-yellow tips under the October sunshine. I noticed the trickle of water that ran from the wood down to the pool. The sun glinted brightly on the water where it flowed over some smooth stones—which was probably what I’d seen from the road.
As I stepped slowly between the slender trunks on either side of the path, I caught the murmuring of voices and stopped.
“Who’s there?” I called softly, and the murmuring ceased.
A twig snapped and a breeze rattled the dry leaves, but no reply came.
My heart thumped, and I wondered whether it might be better to turn back. The boys were harmless enough, but it could be someone else.Someone rougher.
Finally, a mop of straw-colored hair popped out of the trees a few yards ahead. “Passing through, miss?”
My breath moved freely again as I recognized the lad.
“I thought I saw something from the road and came to see what it was,” I replied. “I’m not here to give you any trouble, though.”
The boy stepped fully out of the trees. In one hand he held a snare with a brown hare in it. “Seen you before, miss,” he said.
“I remember. Jeremy, is it?”
His head dipped. Another boy peeped out of the trees farther along the path, but he kept back.
“I’ve worried about you boys in here poaching in the full light of day. Aren’t you afraid you’ll get caught?”
“Nah,” Jeremy replied with a grin. Jerking his head toward the chapel, he said, “The master hardly comes out.”
“You’ve seen him, though?”
He shrugged. “Now and then from a distance. We always scurry off quick.”
“So you’ve never spoken to him.”
The boy shook his head.
“Well,” I said with a glance over my shoulder, “you know a man was killed near here a couple days ago.”
One corner of his lips twisted down. “They say a mad dog got hold of him. But they never caught it.”
“No, so you boys should be careful.”
“Always are, miss. And same toyou, miss.”
I couldn’t help smiling. Eyeing his snare, I said, “If you ever have more than you need, I’m in that first white cottage on the right side of the road to Carbis. Come around to the back, and I’ll give you threepence.”
