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“I haven’t told them,” she objected, “so your recriminations are a little premature.”

He sat down by her and took her hands in his, feeling her stiffen in resistance at his touch. “Katie, it’s for
your
sake, please believe me.” She kept her eyes downcast. “Perhaps I’d better explain a little more, try to impress on you the importance of your silence. Will you listen?” He raised her chin with one finger. “Katie?”

“All right,” she agreed reluctantly, “I’ll listen.”

“Without going into a great many details,” he said, still retaining his hold on her hands, “Eleanor Barlow is a very important member of the organisation I’m concerned with.”

“I guessed that,” Katie said flatly.

“And, unfortunately, she has the idea that—well, that I’m fond of her.” He spoke slowly, as if he needed to choose his words carefully.

“I’m not surprised,” Katie retorted, “since you spend a good deal of your time with her !"

“I
have
to, for heaven’s sake!” He sounded exasperated. “And if she ever gets to hear about you the whole thing will go sky-high! ”

“I wish it would!” she said crossly. “I didn’t realise how complicated it was going to make things when I promised to keep quiet about it. I have to think before I speak to anyone—to Aunt Cora, to Fran and Jamie; I feel like a crook myself!”

“Which you are,” he pointed out with a ghost of a smile. “An accessory is the law’s term for it.”

She gazed at him wide-eyed. “You mean
I
could go to prison as well?”

“An accessory is as guilty as the villain who does the job,” he told her not very reassuringly, then squeezed her hands gently. “But you’ll be perfectly safe as long as Eleanor doesn’t learn about you.”

“What would she do?” she asked, not very certain that she was convinced by his assurance.

“She could be a very dangerous woman,” he said, his blue eyes as cold as ice, the fine, arrogant features set grimly, “and you wouldn’t stand a chance against her.”

“But how much longer?” she asked, her eyes pleading, suddenly frightened of nothing that she could name, but chilled by a thought that went through her like an icy wind.

“Not for very much longer, I hope,” he said fervently. “I hope not for very much longer
now.”

“John,” she looked at the grim face, suddenly so strange to her, and shivered, “I’m frightened. I don’t know why I’m frightened, but I am.” She shook her head to rid herself of the dark thoughts that filled her. “It’s not the thought of going to prison, it’s something I don’t understand.”

“Don’t be frightened,” he said, and put both arms round her in the strong, comforting way that was now familiar to her, his face resting against her hair. “There’s no need, Katie, as long as you keep silent and say nothing to anyone.” He held her close for a while, then lifted his face and looked at her. “And try to dislike me as much as you can, will you?”

She stared at him, uncomprehendingly for a moment. “I’ll try,” she said when reason dawned and she turned to see Sir Janus by the fireplace his back half turned to them.

“I think you can trust Katie to keep a promise,” the old man said surprisingly,, and turned his shrewd eyes on her.

Katie glanced from one to the other of the two men, her eyes puzzled. “Oh, no!” she burst out at last. “Sir Janus! You can’t be involved, I won’t believe it—not you!’

“I am only involved indirectly,” Sir Janus told her quietly, “in so far as I know of John’s implication, that’s all. Don’t you think,” the old man turned to his grandson, “that you should be completely frank with Katie, John?”

The fair head shook stubbornly. “No, Janus. Not now,” he still had one arm round Katie. “The less she knows the better. I don’t want to implicate her any further, it’s too risky.”

“If you say so.” The old man’s acquiescence amazed her. “I agree that it is imperative not to let Eleanor have any inkling of how you feel about Katie.”

His grandson’s blue eyes turned to him sharply and he frowned, Katie noticed. “There seems to be a conspiracy in this family,” he said shortly, “to run my life for me. I don’t want Eleanor to have any false ideas about Katie, any more than I would about any other young girl in her position. The whole thing is too dangerous by far for inexperience, that is the sum total of my worry.” He withdrew his arm from Katie’s shoulders as he spoke. “I just cannot get it into my family’s head,” he said to her, half smiling, “that because I like a girl I have to have designs on her future.”

“No, of course not,” Katie said, feeling very small and cold. “I understand.”

“I hoped you would,” he said quietly. “It’s unfortunate that you had to follow me, then none of these precautions would have been necessary.”

“Since it’s her being jealous that worries you,” Katie retorted, stung by anger, “it’s unfortunate that you had to kiss me!”

She was in time to see Sir Janus hide a smile behind a discreetly raised hand, while John looked unusually discomfited, a faint angry flush colouring his tanned cheeks. “The
basis
of the trouble,” he said coldly and with unfamiliar pettishness, “was Fran introducing you into the family in the first place.”

“Now, John,” Sir Janus said placatingly, crossing the room as his grandson rose from beside Katie, “don’t be unfair because you’ve discovered that you’re human enough to kiss a beautiful girl for the sheer pleasure of it.”

“I didn’t know that I had ever been considered inhuman,” John replied, then glancing from one to the other of them, he half smiled rather ruefully, “but since Katie did follow me and since I did kiss her, then all we can do is to stay away from each other as much as possible and not give those two nosey—” he laughed shortly. “Very well,” he admitted, “I suppose it is important to them when I get involved with a girl, but the one I have to remain involved with at the moment is Eleanor, whether they like it or not.”

“And whether
you
like it or not?” Katie asked quietly, her eyes on him, her cheeks softly flushed.

“Katie,” he sat beside her again, “I’m sorry you became implicated in this whole mess, but since you are I have to rely on your good sense, can I ?”

She glanced at Sir Janus, watching her anxiously, and at John, his blue eyes gentle with the now familiar warmth and something more besides, an anxiety that she had never seen before. She nodded. “Of course,” she said, “I hope I’m not vindictive, although,” she added thoughtfully, “I did try to think of a way of getting Eleanor Barlow behind bars without putting you there as well, but I couldn’t think how.”

They both laughed, as much with relief as at any great humour in her remark, and John, under the benevolent eye of his grandfather, leaned across and kissed her gently on the mouth. “You’re a wonderful girl, Katie,” he said softly.

“I’m not so sure I’m not an incredibly silly one,” she said, smiling, “and you’re not making it very easy for me to dislike you, but I promise I’ll try.” She sighed. “I suppose I shall know what it’s all about one day.”

KATIE had noticed Aunt Cora watching her several times lately, ever since the incident on the cliffs, but she dismissed any suspicions as stemming purely from her own uneasy conscience. She was sure Aunt Cora would never approve of smuggling, no matter how romantic a view Katie took of it. She also found it increasingly difficult to maintain the lighthearted manner she had usually displayed before the incident.

She saw as little as possible of John, and only then when there was a crowd of other people around and it was more simple to be no more than formally polite. She spent more time with Aunt Cora, now far more lively and interested in life than she had been when Katie arrived. She still maintained her rule of not asking questions about what Katie did when she was away from the house, but one thing still puzzled her and she decided to break her own ruling and mention it one day at lunch. Taking advantage of the fact that Mrs. Hard was having a day off and that Katie was home for lunch it seemed an appropriate moment; nevertheless she glanced hesitantly at her once or twice before speaking of it.

“I have been wanting to speak to you, Katherine,” she dabbed her lips delicately with her table napkin, “but I hesitated since, as you know, I make it a point never to question your comings and goings.”

“I don’t mind if you do, Aunt Cora.” Kate smiled an encouragement she was far from feeling.

“I don’t wish to interfere—” the old lady began slowly, obviously ill at ease.

“But you never interfere, Aunt Cora.” Katie clasped her aunt’s hands in her own. “I have nothing to hide,” she said untruthfully, and wished at least that she had not told that lie.

“I’m sure you haven’t,” Aunt Cora said hastily. “Put it down to an old woman’s curiosity if you will, but something has been—puzzling me.” She had almost said ‘worrying’, but corrected herself hastily.

Katie sipped the last of her coffee, wishing with all her heart that her aunt might not ask the question she dreaded. She smiled as blandly as she knew and felt deceitful as she faced her aunt’s questing eyes. “What have I been up to that I shouldn’t?” she asked lightly, putting down her cup carefully into its saucer.

“It is probably all my imagination.” Katie felt a chill of apprehension in her heart. “A little over a week ago it was, on the Monday as I remember, the night before you overslept so late and I was worried about you in case you were ill. Do you remember?” Katie nodded, not speaking, her eyes downcast. “I left you downstairs reading,” her aunt continued, “and I heard you come up to bed.”

“Yes, I do remember, Aunt Cora,” she hoped her voice did not betray her feelings. “I read until quite late. I hope I didn’t disturb you coming to bed, Bridie didn’t bark.”

“No, she very seldom does when she is upstairs with me. I think the company gives her confidence,” Aunt Cora added inconsequentially.

“She snuffled at the door as I passed,” Katie said, “but I was very quiet.”

“I know,” her aunt agreed, “but it was what I heard before that, that w—that puzzled me.” She leaned forward a little across the table. “I was so sure that I heard the front door close,” she said a frown between her brows, “very quietly, but—well, if you
did
go out,” she smiled and shook her head, “it is your own affair entirely, of course, but one does grow uneasy sometimes at noises in the night.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Cora,” Katie patted the old lady’s hand reassuringly, “I should have said about it before, but I didn’t want to wake you at the time and it slipped my mind later. I did go out that night. It was so hot and I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a long walk, hoping the air would make me tired.”

“You could only have been a step or two behind John Miller,” the old lady said unexpectedly, and added, “I was out of bed when he went out of his front door and it was only seconds later that I heard this door close, or at least I thought I did. Now I know that I was right in my assumption.”

“You didn’t see me go out?” Katie asked, surprised.

“No,” her aunt said slowly. “Don’t misunderstand me, Katherine, I was not probing into the affairs of either you or Mr. Miller, I just happened to be near the window when he went out, and as you say you went out so soon after him I wondered—” She looked at Katie with shrewd eyes.

“I did see him, as a matter of fact,” Katie admitted lightly, “although I went out quite independently.” This at least was true, she told herself.

“You didn’t mean to meet?” Was it her imagination or did the old lady’s voice hold a trace of disappointment?

“Oh, no!” The old lady’s attitude puzzled Katie. “As I told you,” she said, remembering the story that John had told Fran and Jamie the next morning, “I didn’t feel a bit sleepy, it was so sultry and hot that I went out for a walk to get some air. It was coincidence that we both chose the same night to go walking and coincidence that we chose the same way to go.” She hoped that she sounded more convincing to her aunt than she did to herself.

“How did you happen to meet?” The old lady sounded genuinely interested, and Katie swallowed her conscience and answered, keeping as near to the truth as she could.

“It was on the top of the cliff,” she said half laughing. “Very romantic, except that John Miller is not the romantic type.”

“I should have said that he was,” Aunt Cora said unexpectedly. “He’s very good-looking.”

Katie’s laugh this time was genuine. “That doesn’t automatically make him romantic,” she said. “He’s very practical.”'

“Yes, I should think he would be,” her aunt agreed.

Katie shook her head, smiling. “But you still think he’s romantic?”

“A man can be both practical and romantic,” Aunt Cora told her with certainty, “and I think John Miller is such a man.”

“You’re quite a fan of his, aren’t you, Aunt Cora?” Katie teased, and her aunt made no answer, but gave her an enigmatic smile.

Katie pushed her cup away. “I must spend more time with you, Aunt Cora,” she said. “It isn’t fair the way I come and go. I spend so little time with you.”

“You please me more by mixing with people of your own age, Katherine,” her aunt said, and rose from the table, picking up the little pekinese from the floor. “You are my only family, and since you’ve been here I have come, perhaps rather imaginatively, to look upon you as a daughter.” She caressed the soft fur of the little animal as she spoke, not looking at Katie. “I should like to see you married before I pass on. It is my dearest wish, and I hope that I will not have much longer to wait before I see it fulfilled.”

Katie felt the colour rise to her cheeks as she began to pack up the lunch dishes and stack them On a tray. “As far as I know, at the moment,” she commented, “you still have quite a long wait!”

“I think not,” her aunt said inexorably, depositing Bridie on a chair out of harms way while they put the dishes away. “Not too long.”

“Have you a crystal ball?” Katie teased, “or some other means of foretelling the future?”

“My own common sense!” her aunt retorted as they went into the kitchen with the dishes.