Lord of the Far Island Victoria Holt (read aloud TXT) 📖

apprehension, which was the usual reaction, as of excitement and a great desire to discover, as though I were at last on the verge of learning the meaning behind the mists of my dream. For a few seconds after waking I could not remember where I was and I got out of bed to stand at the window and gaze out to sea in the direction where I knew the Island to be. I realized that my dream had reflected my feelings to some extent, for I was indeed about to embark on a voyage of discovery.

In the early morning the wind had risen again and the waves were now pounding on the shore. I was dismayed. Yesterday's white horses had not returned to their stables; in fact, more had come out to join them.

I went down to breakfast. Mrs. Pengelly shook her head dolefully. "There be quite a sea on," she said. "There'll be no boat this morning."

I ate her freshly baked bread hot from the oven so that the butter melted into it as I spread it, and drank hot coffee from a brown earthenware mug. The day stretched before me, and I said I would stroll out to look at the town.

There was not a great deal of the town when one left the main street, just a few shops and houses and very little more. I noticed people looked at me curiously and supposed they were unused to visitors.

The post office was the general store and I decided that I would go in and buy some stamps, for I had promised to let Esmeralda know at the earliest possible moment how I had fared on my journey.

When I arrived on the Island I would write to her at length, giving her all those details which I knew she would relish, but that would be later and she would be longing to know something at once.

The postmistress and her husband, who was serving at another counter, looked up when I walked in. I smiled and said good morning, to which they replied cautiously. While she was getting the stamps the postmistress, recognizing me as a stranger, asked if I was visiting here.

"Yes," I replied, "although not on the mainland. I'm waiting for the sea to grow calm enough."

"So you be going to the Islands then?"

"Yes. My family have asked me to stay with them."

"And you've never been there before!"

"Actually I was born on the Far Island but I haven't been back since I was three."

"You can't be. . ."

"I'm Ellen Kellaway."

She stared at me in astonishment. "Well now," she said at length. "That be something!"

"You apparently know my family."

"Everyone do know the Kellaways. There's been Kellaways on the Far Island for hundreds of years, 'tis said."

"Mr. Jago Kellaway has invited me to stay. You know him, of course."

"Well, he be the Lord of the Island, as they do say."

I was aware that everyone in the shop was interested in me and it suddenly occurred to me that I had been talking too much and in a somewhat naive fashion, so I hastily paid for the stamps and went back to the inn, where I ate a cold luncheon of ham, cheese and fruit.

The long afternoon had begun and the sea had not changed for the better. The clouds were as lowering as they had been the day before and the waves, edged with white froth which the wind sent high into the air, were thundering on the sands.

I could not stay in, so I decided to walk again. I turned from the main street and went on towards the harbor. One or two little boats were tied up there. I read their names. Our Sally. Jennie. Gay Lass. Bold Adventurer. They danced on the water washing the quayside. I passed lobster pots, and a fisherman who was mending his nets looked at me curiously as I passed. I called a greeting. He mumbled a reply, and went on mending his nets. There was a big shed smelling of fish and in it was a great weighing machine. The fish market, I imagined, but silent and empty today. None of the little boats could go out. The gulls shrieked protestingly, it seemed, because of the lack of tidbits to which they would be accustomed when the catch came in.

I left the coast and took a winding path through some woods thinking of all that I was trying to forget. I found it so hard to shut out of my mind for any length of time the memory of Philip's face creased in laughter, gently mocking, but always ready to protect me; and as frequently I saw Rollo's accusing eyes. It was deeply wounding to know that he suspected me of having driven Philip to his death.

"Oh Philip," I said aloud, "I will never believe you did that. It is quite impossible; I know it is. But what happened?"

And there I was as close to the tragedy as I had been on the morning Rollo had come to tell me it had happened.

Because my thoughts had been far away in the past I had not noticed how deep into the woods I had penetrated and it occurred to me that I ought to retrace my steps and return to the inn, but I was in no great hurry to do this, as there was a lonely evening ahead of me.

I must not get lost, however, so I did turn and, as I thought, went back the way I had come, expecting I should shortly arrive at the spot where the trees grew less closely together and glimpse the sea again. But I did not and very soon I had lost all sense of direction and realized with dismay that I was lost.

I assured myself that I must eventually come out to the sea, but after I had walked for half an hour I was still in the woods. At last I came to a gate and hopefully opened it