MICHAEL’S parents were delighted to see him, but they did not go into ecstatic raptures about his return. They greeted Rachel cordially, but did not question her—not yet. Rachel realised that they were quite used to Michael going off on trips for several days—hunting and the like. To them, this was just him returning from yet another trip—albeit rather longer than usual.

And they wanted to know what had happened to others on the raiding party which he had joined.

Michael had to think up a few lies, and pretty quickly and off-the-cuff. He did not dare tell his parents the truth. He said that his horse had gone lame, and that he had fallen behind. Eventually he had lost track of the others, so he decided to turn back. When he was already within sight of Waknuk, the poor beast was in such a poor condition that he decided he had to shoot it (that part of his story, at least, was true!). So he walked as far as Rachel’s house, seeing as she was an old friend of his and it was nearer than his home. After he had rested for a while, Rachel insisted on coming on with him.

“And there’s something else we need to tell you. Rachel and I are going to get married…”

Rachel hadn’t expected that announcement so soon, she was con­fused and she blushed prettily. Michael’s mother smiled, but his father looked at him, questioningly, for a long time.

“Come with me into my study, Michael.” he said. “I’m sure my wife will have much to say to Rachel…”

Michael realised he should have been more tactful; should have held back on that announcement for a while. But it was too late.

Once seated comfortably in the study, Michael’s father began:

“Well Michael: this is all very sudden—and quite a surprise. Have you known Rachel for long?”

“Quite a few years now. I think we met at one of the village parties, and we’ve been seeing each other on and off since then.”

“So you remember her sister, then?”

Michael was caught off-guard, but he recovered himself quickly. “I didn’t really know her. She was a lot older than us…”

“Not that much older. So you must know all about her marriage—the calamity in which it all ended, for both of them?”

“Yes of course I know about that. Tragic case.”

“Tragic indeed. I must confess, I find it surprising that less than a year after that dreadful affair, Rachel is suddenly so keen to get married…?”

“I find it surprising too, Father. But Rachel is absolutely deter­mined. She knew what that Alan Ervin person was like, the life he led Anne for the brief time they were together. I think she believes me to be the exact opposite. Who can tell what are in a woman’s thoughts?” (Michael smiled to himself, privately, at that!) “All I know is that I love her, and she loves me..”

“I can see already that she’s a far more sensible, more composed person than her sister was. Your mother, I’m sure, will even now be finding out a lot more! And I’m sure you are just the man to look after her. But I still think you should back off for a few years. You are both still very young. Under-age.”

“Does this mean you’re not going to give us permission, Father?”

“What does Rachel’s father say about it?”

“I don’t know. The man is very sick, I haven’t even met him yet.”

“That settles it, then, Michael. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my answer is No.”

Michael knew he could not argue the case. Once Father had made up his mind about something, there was no gainsaying.

They went back to the living room. Rachel was there, and Michael’s mother. She glanced at her husband, then they tactfully withdrew, leaving Michael and Rachel alone together.

“He said no, didn’t he,” said Rachel, in words. Michael nodded. “I knew he would,” she continued. “I could see it in his eyes. Your mother has been giving me a hard time, too. Lots of questions about Anne. This was difficult for me! I had to be very careful not to give the game away. I just said, I’d told Anne I didn’t like Alan, that I thought he was a brute, that we’d quarrelled about it, then she’d refused to talk to me any more. Did you know that there were bruises found on Anne’s body when she was found—bruises that couldn’t have been caused by her having hanged herself?”

“No, I did not,” replied Michael.

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“Well, there were. I believe my parents tried to hush that fact up. But they were there. I found the body—remember?”

“Wouldn’t the doctor have reported them?”

“I think he tried to, but my parents begged him not to. Anyway, that’s all in the past now. Please let’s not talk about it any more. It still upsets me.”

“What are we going to do then? I’m twenty, as you know. I’ll be twenty-one early next year. But you’re only just turned seventeen. It’s a long time to wait.”

“I don’t know. But the first thing you need to do is check out Sally’s and Katherine’s houses. Ask your father for a horse. Just say, you need to go out for a while to think things over, you want some space for yourself. He’ll understand, believe me.”

Michael’s father was true to Rachel’s expectations. He was a kindly man, when he wasn’t being firm about his decisions. He said, of course Michael was upset, of course he needed time alone. And if he wanted a horse, of course he could have a horse. Meanwhile, if Rachel didn’t want to go with him, she was welcome to stay with them until his return. He should return before nightfall.

So Michael set off. On horseback, it took him only about quarter of an hour to reach Katherine’s farm, which was the nearer—but before he was three-quarters of the way there, he knew his mission was in vain. The whole farm had been burnt to the ground: not just the barn, like with the farm in the Wild Country, where he and Sophie… no matter. Here, the entire farmhouse had been gutted, absolutely nothing was left, just a few embers not even smoking. There was no-one about.

Michael searched around for a while, all the while keeping a careful lookout in case someone spotted him. He found nothing.

So he turned his horse towards Sally’s farmhouse, about half a mile further on. To his relief, that one seemed to be intact. And there were people working there. As he approached the gate, a farm-hand hailed him. A short, stocky young man, with long straw-coloured hair tied up in a pony-tail. He thought he recognised him from a previous visit, but the farm-hand did not appear to recognise him—luckily.

“Hello,” said Michael. “I’m looking for someone called Sally. I believe she used to live here.”

“Don’t know anyone of that name, sorry chum.”

“But she was living here only a short time ago.”

“As I said, no-one of that name’s lived here in my time, and I’ve been here five years. Now, if you haven’t got any business here, clear off. I’ve got work to do.”

Michael cursed himself for having let slip Sally’s name. An appalling blunder: he just hadn’t thought it through. Of course Sally had been proscribed as an outcast, had been arrested, had been tortured, probably to death. That piece of knowledge would be widely known: even to mention her name was dangerous. He should have just bluffed his way in: asked if any jobs were going, for instance. With any luck, he would have been taken to see the farm’s owner—who might still be Sally’s father, or might not. Then he might have been able to play it by ear.

But it was too late now.

Anyway, Michael knew it was useless to pursue the matter further: he may have already aroused suspicion. Supposing the unfriendly farm-hand reported his questioning to the farm owner—or to the Inspector? Apologising, he beat a hasty retreat and went straight back to his own house.

His parents were surprised to see him back so early, but knew better than to ask him questions. Michael asked if he could accompany Rachel back to her own house, and they at once agreed. It was obvious that Father, after giving his firm refusal to their marriage, was going out of his way to be generous and helpful to them. He said, Michael could stop the night at Rachel’s house, but he’d expect him back tomorrow.

After a quick lunch, Michael and Rachel set off on foot. They had not used thought-shapes since they left Rachel’s house that morning, and all the time they were at Michael’s house, and of course Rachel hadn’t dared to ask him about Sally and Katherine in the presence of his parents, but now she broke in: “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” replied Michael, and he related all that he had discovered.

“Do you think there’s any chance they’re still alive?” asked Rachel.

“They could be. I saw no sign of any bodies at Katherine’s—but then I didn’t expect to. We can still hope. But we’ve no clue as to where to search.”

“What are we going to do?”

This, time, Michael was more sure of himself. He’d thought about this as he was riding back from Sally’s. “First of all, I’m going to tell my parents that I’m going to live in Kentak. They won’t object to that. Well, I have to now: I may be a marked man: I don’t trust that farm-hand. And remember, I went to school there: I have friends there whom I can stay with. No-one’s going to follow me there. You stay with your mother and father for a few weeks—then I’ll come and fetch you. Kentak is a big place, we can lose ourselves there. I won’t directly disobey Father—I can’t anyway—so the wedding will have to wait. That’s as far as I’ve thought things out so far…”

At Rachel’s house, they found Stephanie hard at work in the kitchen, and Mark outside chopping wood. Mark greeted them with a cheery thought-shape “Hi there!”: his powers were evidently gradually returning to him. Inside, Stephanie greeted them warmly. “Your mother’s with your father at the moment, Rachel. I’m afraid there’s not much change with him. And she’s agreed, I’m free to stay here for the time being. I’d like that. She can’t afford me wages but I’ll get bed and board. Mark’s going to stay on too—but he’ll be going back to his mother at weekends.”

“I’m going to stay on here for a while, too,” said Rachel.

“Excellent! I was hoping you would. Have you noticed, Mark’s already trying to score on me? You have? I thought you would. It’s not that I don’t like him, he’s a nice lad and quite attractive—”; Stephanie winked at Michael as she said this, “but I’m not ready for this, and not with him—especially not if he’s going to recover his thought-speech powers, as seems likely. We’d be far too mismatched. Although I’m improving with my ‘thought’ ability—just a bit. At any rate, I’m glad you’ll be around as a sort of chaperone.”

That evening, Michael and Rachel once again retreated to Anne’s former bedroom. Rachel stripped down to her petticoat, but not further. “Remember me like this, until we next meet. But no more!” she murmured, as he kissed her. “We have to get married, however long it takes.” Michael knew that she would stick to her word.