'Please, Daddy. I can't carry you any more. I'm not strong enough.'

Daddy shut his eyes. He had blood on his teeth. How would Mother handle this?

'Gideon.' Delphine fought down the tremor in her voice. 'Now, listen here. Don't be obstinate. Everyone's waiting for you, you silly man. If you want to die, you can die tomorrow.'

Daddy's eyes remained closed. He frowned.

'Arthur?'

Delphine fanned smoke away from her mouth.

'Yes,' she said. 'It's me. Now, come on.'

'Oh, Arty!' Daddy gazed into the descending smoke. 'Oh God, I . . . ' He clutched his throat, made a retching noise. 'I knew you'd come. It's been black without you. I . . . ' coughing, ' . . . I couldn't see a damn thing.'

'You must follow me.'

'Sit a moment.' He patted the floor beside him. 'Abide.'

'There isn't time! We have to '

'I kept it from all of them, old man.' Daddy grinned tightly. 'I think . . . I think Anne knew, perhaps. Perhaps she guessed.'

Sweat fell from Delphine's chin onto the hot floor. 'Guessed what?'

'Ah!' He held up a forefinger. 'Ah ha ha! Nope, you won't . . . you won't trick me that easily. We made a pact, and I never . . . argh, Christ.' He spat something black. 'Look, they've . . . I took a knock in that last barrage. My leg's done in.'

'Then crawl! Come on!' Delphine grabbed his arm and pulled.

'I want you to take a message to my daughter.'

Delphine let go. 'What's the message?'

Daddy's breath heaved in and out.

'Tell her . . . ' He broke off to cough. 'I read her note.' He relaxed his fingers and the crumpled paper spread its petals. She could see the 'F' of 'FATHER', scrunched back on itself so it looked like an 'M'. 'Tell her . . . to listen to her mother.'

'Are you quite finished?'

'Utterly.'

She wiped sweat from her eyes. 'You have to follow me.'

'You go, dear. I'll rest here a while.'

In the midst of the flames, cold panic swamped her chest. He wasn't going to listen to her. She slapped him in the stomach.

'No! Come now,' she said. He did not move. 'Venner! I am giving you an order!'

Daddy massaged his brow with his fingertips. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. His fingers left smutty trails.

'All right, sir.' He blew out slowly. 'All right.'

Delphine cradled his head. He let her help him onto his hands and knees. The air was so hot she had to breathe through clenched teeth and still it scalded her tongue. She pushed her face to the rug, where the smoke was thinner.

'Follow me!' she shouted. She began crawling towards the door. The glass in the window burst. She felt a sudden scorching breeze, flames sucking at the new fuel source. It hurt to keep her eyes open. She pressed on blind, feeling ahead with the crab hook. 'This way!' Daddy did not reply. 'Gideon? Are you there? Daddy?' She inhaled a great lungful of smoke and started spluttering. She tried to draw in fresh air but she could not stop coughing. She kept crawling. She could not feel her hands. Her scalp was burning.

She opened her eyes and saw only smoke. She could not see the door. She could not breathe.

'Daddy!'

What if she was going the wrong way? What if she had lost him?

Her legs felt so heavy. She swished the crab hook back and forth, hoping to catch a wall. The heat was all round her now. She was so tired.

She thought she might go to sleep for a while, till all the fuss was over.

Strong arms gripped her waist and she was rising. Pain a sharp blow to the ribs heat and sweat and fingers digging into her guts.

The temperature rose till it was unbearable, till she must be on fire. Maybe this was dying.

She blacked out.

*'I'll let you look at Nana Florence's cross' was a common bargaining ploy of Eleanor's. Its counterpart 'I swear on Nana Florence's cross' was used as collateral when auditioning for custody of prized confidences. Eleanor had never explained why Nana Florence's cross was due the sort of veneration usually reserved for the remains of an apostle as far as she was concerned, its status as a storied relic was self-evident.

CHAPTER 39.

ARISE.

Delphine felt drizzle against her cheeks. When she opened her eyes, she was looking up at Professor Carmichael.

The lawn was wet and cool and lit by the blazing Hall. The Professor knelt at her side, in the lee of the ha-ha. His jumper had a fist-sized hole scorched in the shoulder. The skin beneath was covered in greasy blisters like the white of a fried egg.

'You're alive,' he croaked.

Delphine tried to speak but her tongue was burnt. She coughed and it was a kick in the chest.

'Steady,' said the Professor, wincing with the effort. He looked back towards the house. 'They're coming.'

Delphine sat up slowly, the Professor supporting her. Across the grass, limping in silhouette, came Mother, supporting a ragged and delirious Daddy. Flamelight turned their outlines golden.

Rain fell in wafting layers. A few yards away, Mrs Hagstrom sat with Alice's head in her lap, running fingers through her hair and murmuring to her. Alice's chest rose and fell fitfully. Mrs Hagstrom's shoulder had been clumsily bandaged with a stocking. Droplets ran down her hollow cheeks. Somewhere she had lost a shoe. The male guest whose name Delphine still did not know sat quietly beside her, hugging his jacket to his shoulders.

Delphine leant an arm against the wet stone of the ha-ha and stood. There was something hard in the sleeve of her cardigan. She shook it out and the crab hook dropped into her palm. The metal was hot to the touch.

She looked back at the Hall fire was raging in the west wing. Blue smoke haemorrhaged through a collapsed section of roof, underlit, looming. Great orange flakes rose into the rain and withered. The long library was gone.

Mother's dress hung in charred streamers round her waist. She had draped a throw rug over her shoulders. Vapour spilled from Daddy's lips. He was shivering. As they moved into the lee of the ha-ha, Mother waited to see if he could support himself. She stepped away.

'Do up your shirt, dear.'

Daddy started fastening the bottom button. His fingers were clumsy and slow. Professor Carmichael watched him warily.

'Mrs Hagstrom needs a doctor,' said the Professor. He glanced at the bloody slit in Daddy's trousers. 'We all do.'

'His Lordship's car was out the front of the house,' said Mrs Hagstrom. 'Reggie . . . uh, that is . . . it was due a wash. If it's still there . . . I think I can manage the drive.'

'Right,' said the Professor. 'I'll head to Pigg and telephone for the police. They've a phone in the Brown Bull. Delphine, you go with Muriel. Get the car.'

The Professor stood.

Delphine hacked up a brown gobbet of phlegm.

'I've got to help Mr Garforth.'

'Mr Garforth?' said Mother.

'Henry.' Everyone looked at Delphine blankly. 'The head keeper. I'm afraid something's happened to him.'

'Delphine, this isn't the time.'

'If it wasn't for him we'd all be dead!' Delphine's chest cramped and she paused to cough. 'He made sure no more monsters can cross the channel.'

Professor Carmichael raised a blackened eyebrow. 'You mean . . . they're French?'

'No. I don't . . . Never mind. Mr Garforth knows about it but he might need our help.'

'Right. Fine.' The Professor slapped a huge palm against his chest. 'I'll go and look for him. You stay with your mother.'

'You don't know your way through the woods. I'm going with you.'

'You are not, Delphine.' Mother grasped Delphine by the scruff of her cardigan. 'You need to see a doctor.' On top of the Hall, more tiles caved in with an almighty woof of sparks. Mother did not flinch. 'I have given you tremendous latitude this evening and you have almost died and I won't stand for it any more because I love you.'

'Listen to your mother,' said Daddy. 'Ow!'

He slapped his neck.

Daddy examined his hand. Something like a smear of boot polish gleamed in the fluctuating light of the fire. Delphine stepped closer.

'Giddy?' said Mother.

Daddy held out his palm. Across his fingers were the turquoise-magenta wings and smashed carapace of a hornet.

'I think I've been stung.'

At the far end of the west wing, the music room window blew out. Mr Cox, immaculate in riding coat and blue breeches, stepped out of the window. Behind him was Stokeham. Cox dropped down onto the gravel. He turned, reaching up to accept the leather gauntlet of his superior.

'Get down,' hissed the Professor. Everybody dropped behind the ha-ha.

Delphine and the Professor peered over the lip of the stone wall, back towards the house.

Rain dripped from Stokeham's bone-white beakmask. Cox raked his fingers through his shining chestnut hair. From the shattered window clambered Reggie. Delphine could not make out his eyes. Sluggishly, he reached through the frame, reached into thickening smoke, and lifted out Miss DeGroot.

'What on earth's he doing?' muttered the Professor.

Miss DeGroot staggered as her feet touched the gravel. Her arm was wrapped in a singed curtain. It dragged as she took a few uncertain steps forward.

Cox unhooked a flintlock pistol from his belt. He said something to Miss DeGroot. She did not appear to answer. Stokeham gazed across the estate. Cox began walking towards the ha-ha.

'What do we do now?' said Mrs Hagstrom.

Professor Carmichael ducked back behind the ha-ha.

'We can't stay here,' he whispered.

'Alice can't move,' said Mrs Hagstrom. Alice whimpered and Mrs Hagstrom stroked her brow, shushing her.

'Giddy?' said Mother. She nudged Daddy, who was lying on his back. 'Come on, now.' She looked up. 'He's passed out.'

'We have to go now,' said the Professor.

Delphine glanced over the lip of the wall and saw Cox walking a few yards ahead of Stokeham, one palm sheltering his pistol from the rain. Miss DeGroot and Reggie were following, her club arm flattening the wet grass. Miss DeGroot's eyes were half-lidded. Cox was scanning the darkness. Unless he changed direction, he would be upon them in less than a minute.

Delphine turned to Mother.

'Keep everyone safe,' she said.

'What? Delphine, no!'

Delphine ran east in a low crouch along the ha-ha. She waited until she was a clear thirty yards from Mother, Daddy and the others, then broke cover. Slippery grass squeaked beneath her soles. She glanced back at Cox.

He had not spotted her. He was continuing towards the group's hiding place. He seemed totally unaware. By blind luck he was about to stumble on everyone. Delphine almost called out, but that would make it too obvious a diversion. He had to believe she did not want to be seen.

She began backing away. Cox was not even looking in her direction.

A familiar ticking came from overhead. Delphine glanced up to see a vesperi swooping towards her, the drizzle bouncing off the outline of its wings. It called out to its masters. Stokeham whirled round.

Cox's eyes widened.

'There!'