"Oh come on," I said impatiently. "I shall be there. You won't be alone."

The boy unlocked the door leaving the key in the lock and we started down the steps, I leading the way. I picked my way carefully and warned him to do the same. I said: "The stairs might be damp and slippery.''

He did not answer. Then I realized that he was not following me. I heard voices through the open door. I was relieved. Some-one else was there.

"Pepper," I called. "Pepper, where are you?"

There was a shadow behind me.

I said: "He's probably hiding. He must have been rather scared when he found he could not get out."

I had reached the bottom of the stairs and turned. I went cold with fear. Charles was behind me.

"Charles!" I cried.

"The very same."

"How . . . how did you get here?"

"By the usual means ... on my two feet."

"Where is the boy?"

"I sent him back. Oh don't worry, I have the key."

He held it up smiling at me.

I was determined not to show how frightened I was to be in such a place . . . alone with Charles. This was more than fear, It was like something out of a nightmare.

"Pepper," I called, "where are you?"

"The little beast is probably hiding. We'll find him . . . if he's here. Pepper. Come here."

There was no answer. Our voices in that strange place sounded unfamiliar.

"Well, if he is not here we'd better go," I said. "The boy thought he heard a dog down here and it seemed very likely as we had the door open yesterday and he comes here with Willie a good deal."

"I don't think he's here." He turned and looked at me. "You're scared," he said.

"I don't like this place."

"Not very cosy, is it? And you like it less because you're alone here with me."

I wondered if I could pass him and make a dash for the stairs. Could I reach the top before him? I knew I could not, for it was so gloomy one would have to pick one's way with care.

"You should not be afraid of me," he said in a soft voice. "I have told you I want to be your friend. But you won't let me."

"I do not want the sort of friendship you are suggesting."

"Oh, I know you are a very pure young lady. It's a pity. What are you afraid of?"

"I think we should go now. The dog cannot be here. He would come when called if he were."

"You think I'm going to attack you, don't you? That I am going to force you to submit to my evil desires. Is that not so? Confess. You think me capable of that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

He laughed. "You're a bold wench. Let me tell you that I do not have to beg for favours."

"I am sure you don't. So why don't you take from those who are willing . . . perhaps eager to give them?"

''There are plenty who are, I assure you. Therefore I will not do that which I could so easily do, for, my proud little bastard, you are at my mercy down here. What a setting for the ravishment. Surrounded by the dead."

"I am going now."

"Not so fast. You should be in terror that I shall rob you of your innocence ... for innocent you are, are you not? Such a stinging blow that was, you gave me. I feel it still. No. I would not give what I have to offer to a slut who would not appreciate it."

"I can understand that. I am sorry I hit you. But you did provoke me. But now that we understand each other perhaps we can forget the incident."

"I do not forget insults so easily."

"I thought I was the one who was insulted."

"Because you have ideas above your station, little Miss Cleremont?"

"Perhaps," I said, "but I hope never to trouble you with them again."

"Then we will go."

He was on the stairs a little ahead of me. Suddenly he turned and said: "Listen. Did you hear that?"

I stood very still listening and turned to stare back down into the dark chamber. "No, I can hear nothing," I said.

Then I heard him laugh. While my back was turned he had been mounting the stairs. He started to run up them and he was well ahead of me. I heard the door shut with a bang just as I reached it. Then I heard the key turn in the lock.

A terrible fear came over me.

I was alone . . . locked in the house of the dead.

I went to the door and beat on it with my two fists.

"Let me out. Let me out," I cried.

He must have been very close to the door but I heard his laugh.

"You were very rude to me, you little bastard," he shouted. "You have to be punished for that. Stay there with the departed and think about the way you behaved to the son of the house which has been your benefactor for so many years. You ungrateful little beast. You have to learn, you know."

"No . . . no!" I cried.

The laugh was fainter now. He had gone leaving me here.

I sat down on the stone steps and covered my face with my hands. It was very dark now that the door was closed. I thought: This is not happening. This is a dream. I shall wake up soon.

But I knew it was not a dream. 1 knew he had thought of doing this to me yesterday, that he had lured me here. The boy must have been obeying his orders. There was no question of the dog's being lost.

I called: "Help! Help!" My voice sounded feeble echoing through the underground chamber. Perhaps if someone was right outside they would hear it. But who would be there? And how long should I stay here?

I was afraid to move from the stairs. I did not want to go down to the chamber where the coffins were. It was better there on the stairs where I could not see them.

They would miss me soon. Grand'mere would be worried. She would insist on their looking for me. It could not be very long. But even a little time in such a place would be terrifying.

Why had I been such a trusting fool? I should have made the boy go down first, but I had been so eager to find Willie's lost dog. I would have done anything to restore him to his young master.

I sat staring down into the gloom. Silence can be frightening. I realized I was straining my ears for some sound from the dead.

I thought of stories of ghosts which I had heard. If there were ghosts anywhere in the world they would be in a place like this.

I heard myself praying incoherently. "Please God, let someone come now . . . quickly . . . now . . . now."

I stood up. My legs were already numb. Again I banged on the door until my fists hurt. I knew the futility of that but I continued to do it. Suppose no one came ... not until another Sallonger died and they opened the door to bring in the coffin and found me ... dead.

But they would look for me. They must find me. But who would think of looking here? The stable boy would tell them. But no. He had been primed to do his part by Charles. My hatred for Charles momentarily overcame my fear. Why were people so loathsome? Why did they do such wicked things to other people? Those cruel boys who had stoned Willie's dog . . . Charles, who could do this to me because I would not submit to his lust.

I wondered how long I had been here. Was it fifteen minutes? Thirty? I was so frantic I could not think of what I must do. I had had no warning. I had been prepared for him to assault me. I would have fought him with all my strength if he had ... but it had not occurred to me that this would be his revenge.

Was it likely that anyone would pass this way? When the evening came no one would. The servants never liked passing the place after dusk. Was I to spend a night here? And even when that was over . . . what then?

But they must come to look for me. Grand'mere would see to that. She would not have missed me yet... not until it was time for us to go to bed.

Then she would grow alarmed.

I went again to the door and hammered on it in frustration. I called for help. How stupid of me. As if anyone would hear. It was so gloomy here. Down in the underground chamber there would be a faint light from that open slit high in the wall of the chamber but just above ground level outside. It was enough to let in a little air and a little light.

I felt an impulse to descend the stairs.

I stood in the underground chamber . . . dark, gloomy, the coffins on the ledges, the statues seeming, in my present mood, as though they had come to life. Satan's sceptre seemed to move. I had a notion that he was giving his attention to me.

I turned my eyes away and stared at the opening in the wall. Perhaps if I went close and shouted, I should be heard by someone. But what was the use? There would be no one there to hear me.

I could not bear to remain in the chamber with the gloom and the darkness and the presence of Death. Yet if I was to be heard I must be there . . . because of that gap. I stared at it. It seemed to offer me my only hope of communication with the outside world.

How long should I stay here? Surely Charles must realize what I was feeling. He would come back soon feeling he had punished me enough. I remembered what Cassie had said. Her hair would turn white overnight. I touched my hair tentatively. I could not be here all through the night. No one could be so cruel... not even Charles.

But people were cruel. I should never forget the boys who had stoned Willie's dog. Such pointless violence was the product of minds that had grown vicious because they were empty of everything else. But Charles was not like that. Charles had had education. This was not mindless cruelty. It was revenge.

I had repulsed him; and because of my humble birth he had objected fiercely to that-and he was teaching me a lesson.

I prayed again to the statue of the Virgin and the Child. I sat down on the lowest step and resisted the urge to run up to the top and shut out the sight of that gloomy chamber with its statues and remains of the dead. I noticed the moisture trickling down the walls and saw two drops running parallel as though in a race. How could one notice such things at such a time?

I thought: Shall I die down here? Suppose they never find me. I remembered the bride who on her wedding day had hidden in a chest; the lock clicked and she could not escape. The players hunted for her ... but she was not found . . . not until years later when someone opened the chest and found the remains of her in her wedding gown.

The story had always intrigued me. Poor bride! How had she felt when she could not get out? At least my case was not quite so hopeless.

He will come back, I assured myself. This is just to tease me. He will leave me here for perhaps an hour and then he will come and unlock the door and laugh at me.

How long had passed? I had no way of knowing. When one was in this state one was unaware of time.

Silence . . . that terrible silence. I listened, my ears strained for some sound . . . some indication that someone was near. I longed to hear a sound . . . any sound.

There was nothing.

I walked back to the stairs. I felt I was being watched by a ghostly unseen presence. There was still light coming through the gap. It must be fairly sunny outside. So it was not night yet.

When it was quite dark something would happen.

I sat on the lower step in despair.

Was it an hallucination or did I hear the barking of a dog? I was alert listening. Yes . . . faintly ... in the distance. It was coming from outside. I went across the chamber and stood immediately below the gap.

"Help! Help!" I cried. "I'm in the mausoleum . . . locked in."

There was silence.

Then I heard the dog again. This time more distinctly and I shouted with all my might. I fancied a shadow crossed the gap.

"Help! Help! Get me out of here."

The shadow was gone.

I stood for some time straining my ears. But now I could hear nothing.

I felt limp with despair. Had someone really been there or had I imagined it? Perhaps in my present state I had heard what I wanted to.

The silence was back and I was in despair. I was shivering, whether with cold or fear, I did not know.

No one will come this way, I told myself. If they did they would not hear me. I would stay here for the night unless Charles came back. He must.

Time was passing. I felt faint. My feet were numb; so were my hands. I could feel the cold from the stones penetrating through my clothes.

Grand'mere would be unaware as yet. She would be busy in the workroom. That always absorbed her. When she knew that I was missing she would be frantic. She would insist on their searching everywhere. But who would think of the mausoleum?

Then suddenly I heard a noise. The stairs seemed less dark. It was the scrape of the key turning in the lock. There was a shaft of light as the door was flung open.

Then a voice said: "Lenore, are you there?"

I heard the barking of a dog. I stumbled up the stairs. I was caught in someone's arms.

"Drake ..." I murmured. "Drake . . ."