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Rosamund stood rigidly beside him, unable to guess what was wrong from the one-sided conversation, but feeling more and more tense and apprehensive. It was evidently something serious—

At last Mrs. Watchett came to a breathless halt and Dr. Rob was able to speak.

“Yes, I quite understand, Mrs. Watchett,” he said briskly. “And I will make the necessary arrangements without fail. I’ll also ring the hospital to see if they consider them satisfactory—have you got the number?” He scribbled it down on the nearby pad. “Yes, I’ve got that—what’s that? Yes, I’ll ring you as well when it’s all fitted up. Either tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. Thank you very much for letting me know! Good night!” He' replaced the instrument but stood for a moment with one hand still on it, his lips pursed. Then he slowly paced up and down the pleasant room once or twice, deep in thought.

“Father—?”

He gave a little start as if he had suddenly realised Rosamund’s presence and came to a halt facing her.

“Alice has had an accident,” he said abruptly. “Dropped something heavy on her foot and has broken a couple of bones in her instep. She’s in hospital now, but it was some time before she was found. If I’ve told her once, I’ve told her twenty times that she ought not to be alone on that damned boat with nobody within hail—”

“Oh, poor Miss Alice!” Rosamund exclaimed with a sympathy which was yet tinged with inexplicable relief. “I
am
sorry!”

“Are you?” Dr. Rob laid his hand on her shoulder. “How sorry?”

“I—I—” Rosamund stammered, guessing what was coming.

“I’ve realised, of course, that you haven’t wanted to go back to the canal, and that’s understandable enough,” Dr. Rob said deliberately. “But now I’m asking you to forget your personal feelings and to go there to look after Alice.”

“But if she’s in hospital—” Rosamund demurred.

“They’re keeping her in until the day after tomorrow,” Dr. Rob said shortly. “And that’s longer than it would be if she were younger. And these days there aren’t enough beds or staff to waste them on people who don’t need them. No, she can’t stay there, but they want her to be in the neighbourhood so that she can keep in touch with them. So she’ll be going back to the
Pride of London.
But she’ll be in a plaster and that means she must not be alone—and it must be a woman that’s with her, of course.”

Rosamund didn’t reply immediately. Then she asked:

“Father, who—who was it. that found Miss Alice after the accident?”

“Young Sid Watchett. Fortunately it was his day for delivering her supplies, and for once, in a way he showed some sense. He ran back to the shop and his mother phoned for the ambulance.”

So it hadn’t been John—she had been half suspicious, but after all, he, no more than herself, would want to go back there. Even so, it would be hard enough, but there seemed no alternative—

“All right, I’ll go,” she promised. “Just when will she be back?”

“I’ll get through to the hospital and find out,” Dr. Rob said, going back to the telephone. ‘‘You’ll need to go down the day before to get everything ready.”

Rosamund stood on the deck of the
Pride of London.
She had come down from Town early that morning and now, in the late afternoon, with everything spick and span for Miss Alice’s reception, she had time on her hands. And that was the last thing she wanted, for in these surroundings how could she help but recall those earlier days which she had spent here?

Never in all her life had she been so happy and confident. She had been so sure that golden days for John and herself stretched ahead in a limitless procession. But instead of that, so soon, she had found disillusionment and heartbreak. And never again, she knew, would it be possible for her to experience such enchantment. It was the sort of thing which could only happen once.

In London, it had seemed possible to accept that and shut the door firmly on the past. Even those brief meetings with John at the solicitors’ hadn’t disturbed her very much because it had all seemed so impersonal, as if they were both different people from the ones they had been.

But now, here, it was different. Memory stirred and would not be stilled. All the little things, all the important ones that had gone to make up those halcyon days were as clear to her mind’s eye as when they had actually happened from the moment when an irate John had shaken her to consciousness when she had dropped off to sleep in his cabin to the moment of culminating bliss when he had taken her into his arms and told her that he loved her.

She beat her hand on the boatrail in a mood of hopeless frustration. Would she, no matter how she tried to forget, always be at the mercy of these bitter-sweet memories of hers? Would they, all unbidden, suddenly possess her, as they were doing now, stronger than any resolution she might make to leave them in the past?

“They shan’t, they shan’t,” she told herself passionately. “I must forget—I
must
! There’s no alternative! ”

But there was. She could give John the chance he asked for—let him persuade her
—

“Never! ” she declared as fiercely as if someone else, not herself, had made the suggestion. “It’s finished, absolutely finished!”

She would stop thinking about John, now’ and for all time. And instead of moping out here like this, she would get herself a meal—

She turned to go into the galley, and at that moment, John came through the gate in the hedge.

SO it was a trap! A trap to bring John and her together again. What was more, not only John himself was responsible for it. Her father and Miss Alice, people whom she believed she could trust and rely on, were as much involved as he was.

She said as much to John, but he denied it, not indignantly, but matter-of-factly and with a suggestion of the tolerance one would show to a child encountering a problem it could hardly be expected to understand. To Rosamund, he sounded insufferably patronising and self-confident.

“Nothing like that,” he assured her.

“I don’t believe it,” Rosamund declared stubbornly.

“You mean you think it’s a put-up job?” John suggested bluntly. “That Miss Alice didn’t have an accident at all? That she and your father and I put our heads together to devise a plan which would trick you into coming here?”

“Yes, I do think that,” Rosamund told him defiantly.

John shook his head.

“You’re wrong. Oh, I grant you it would have been a most ingenious scheme, but there’s one snag. The hospital. Do you honestly think that we could have persuaded the authorities to play our game if there had been nothing wrong with Miss Alice? Of course we couldn’t!”

And that, she had to acknowledge, was undoubtedly true.

“Well, if it wasn’t that—” she began impetuously, and stopped short.

“If it wasn’t that—then what? If, as you believe, it was a put-up job, then there’s only one alternative, you know. That it wasn’t an accident at all. In other words, that it was done deliberately either by me or by Miss Alice, persuaded by me. Well? Does either sound very likely to you?”

“No,” Rosamund admitted grudgingly. “All the same, can you deny that you came here because you knew I’d be here?”

“Oh yes, I can deny that,” John said easily. “I came down here several days ago to clear my gear out of the
Seven Stars
because my tenancy was on the point of expiring. Unfortunately, I had to go to Lindacres on the day that the accident happened, and so not only was I not here to lend a hand, but I neither knew about it or that you were here until I called in at the shop a short time back.”

“Well, now that you do know, the least you can do is go away as quickly as possible,” she insisted doggedly. “Surely you can see that!”

But John shook his head, his jaw set obstinately.

“No, Rosamund, I can’t! The way I look at it is this—you’ve refused to give me a chance to redeem myself in your eyes, but fate or luck, whichever you like to call it, has played right into my hands and I intend to make the most of my opportunity!”

“But you said that you only wanted me to come back to you of my own free will,” she reminded him indignantly.

“I still say that, and I mean it. It’s because I feel it so strongly that I’m determined
you
shall have a chance!"

“A chance for what?” Rosamund asked scornfully. “To make a fool of myself all over again?”

“If you like to put it that way,” John conceded. “But as I see it, a chance to discover just what it is that your will really wants if you give it the freedom to decide. No, let me finish!” There was a new authority in his manner which checked the furious words on Rosamund’s lips. “I’ve hurt your pride badly. I know that. I also know that you believe I’ve killed your love for me. Well, I don’t believe that! Oh, not because I’m such a terrific chap that I’m irresistible! Far from it. No, it’s on you that I’m pinning my faith. I believe that because you’re incapable of feeling a shallow emotion—the sort that can easily be destroyed— you do still love me—”

“No!” Rosamund disclaimed passionately. “You’re wrong—quite wrong!”

“Perhaps. But I intend to find out for certain. Is that clear?”

“Quite,” Rosamund told him stonily. “But you’re wasting your time.”

John regarded her with an intentness that made her feel uneasy. It was as if he was striving to penetrate her very innermost thoughts.

“It couldn’t be, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully, “that you’re taking this line because, though in your heart of hearts you want us to make a fresh start, just as I do, you’re afraid to admit it?” And then, as she didn’t reply, he went on deliberately: “You can’t keep on running away from life, you know, Rosamund. Or if you do, you can’t hope ever to be able to live at peace with yourself.”

She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. Then, with a shake of her head, she turned away and John made no attempt to stop her. But he called after her:

“Let me know if there’s any way in which I can lend a hand to help Miss Alice! ”

Of course she wouldn’t call on John for help! Rosamund was determined about that, and really she could not see that it would be necessary to do so. Between them, she and her father had surely thought of everything. She had brought a folding wheelchair down in the car with her, and Mr. Mangell, the ironmonger, had been rung up to see if he could possibly make up a timber ramp so that the chair could be run up and down the two steps from the living quarters to the deck without difficulty. He’d turned up trumps and had brought along not only the ramp but a couple of wooden chocks to keep the chair stationary when required.

Yes, that was all right. Then food. She’d checked that over and made a few useful additions. The Calor gas supply was adequate—the water tank was full. So, if John thought he was going to ingratiate himself by being useful, he’d made a big mistake! She would be able to manage quite well without his assistance!

She cooked her meal, ate it, though with an indifferent appetite, and cleared up. Then she settled down to read the book she had brought with her. But very soon she found to her surprise that daylight was fading. She looked at her watch. Surely the sun was setting sooner than she remembered it doing before? Oh, but of course it was ! It was that much later in the year now.

She got up to light the lamp, but first she went to the door and peered out. It was all the darker because the moon was in its first quarter. There was a mist lying like a fleecy blanket over the fields and the whisper of an evening breeze stirred the reeds. It was really rather eerie to a town-bred girl. One couldn’t help thinking about tramps or poachers—she’d be glad to have Miss Alice’s company to-morrow, but in the meantime she’d just have to be sensible about it. Besides, if any marauder came prowling around, she had only to shout and John would come—

She was so angry with herself for thinking of such a thing that she forgot to feel scared any more.

"I'm terribly sorry, my dear, but I just can’t manage it,” Miss Alice said apologetically, almost in tears. “This plaster makes me so clumsy and I’m so dreadfully afraid of falling.”

Everything had gone swimmingly until now. Rosamund had been a little worried lest the ramp might be rather too steep for her to have perfect control when wheeling the chair down it. But that proved to be quite satisfactory. What even Dr. Rob had not thought of was that Miss Alice might have difficulty in getting from the chair to her bed. But here she was, completely unable to make the transfer, even with Rosamund’s help.

“How did you manage in hospital?” Rosamund asked anxiously.

“Oh, two nurses,” Miss Alice explained. “And of course, they have the knack—oh, I do wish your father was here! He’d know just how to hoick me over!”

“And I’m afraid I don’t,” Rosamund admitted regretfully. “I’m sorry—”

“But it’s not your fault, dear,” Miss Alice said quickly. “It’s just that I’m being difficult. Shall we try again?”

But by now Rosamund felt as apprehensive as Miss Alice did. She had had little or no nursing experience and Miss Alice was a sturdily built woman. A slip might cause incalculable damage.

“I think—I’d better go and ask John if he’ll lend a hand,” she said in a high, unnatural voice.

“Oh, do you think he’d mind?” Miss Alice said dubiously. “As a rule, men don’t like to have anything to do with illness—”

“As a matter of fact, he offered yesterday to do anything he could to help you,” Rosamund told her. “I’ll go right away—”

Before she regretted her suggestion to the degree where she couldn’t bring herself to make the request that was obviously so necessary—

She took a torch with her and John, evidently seeing its bobbing light, came to the top of the gangplank to meet her.

“Anything wrong?”

Briefly Rosamund explained, thankful that with the light of her torch shining in John’s direction, he couldn’t see her face clearly.

“Right!” John said briskly. “I’ll come at once. Just let me get my torch for the return, journey and I’ll be with you.”