Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Part 8

Posted on Thursday, 27 June 2002, at 2:08 a.m.

Mr Campbell came home late that night. The guests had left long ago, and Mrs Campbell had gone to bed, too. Only William had decided to stay up to wait for his friend's return, knowing that his long absence meant that something serious had happened and Campbell might want someone to talk to.

William was right, he understood that the moment his friend entered the parlour. He had a tired and frustrated air about him, and something seemed to trouble him. Campbell gave his friend a weary smile, took a glass and filled it with brandy.

"Do you want some, too," he asked William, who watched him anxiously.

"No, thank you. But I'll keep you company if you don't mind."

"Not at all. You know me, Price, I don't drink normally, but I need that one. There are some scenes that justify getting drunk after one has beheld them."

Campbell emptied his glass and helped himself to some more brandy.

William watched him and asked, "What has happened? I can't remember having seen you so upset before."

Campbell sighed and took a seat in an easy chair opposite William. He stared into the fire and ran his left hand through his hair.

"There was nothing I could do for the poor chap, Price, nothing at all. He was already dying when I arrived at the Anchor."

"At the Anchor? Is this where the accident happened?"

Campbell gave a bitter laugh. "The accident? Ah, well, they want me to believe that it was an accident, but I don't."

"Do you think there was a fight," William asked thoughtfully. Some drunken men fighting, and one of them being hit in an unfortunate way...it would not be the first time that something like that happened, and not the last time either.

Campbell shook his head. "I don't think so. The poor fellow was murdered, brutally and cold-bloodedly."

William was shocked. "Who?"

"Maynard, the customs officer. When I came there, they showed me into the cellar, and there he was. I knew at once that there was no way I could possibly help him. They told me that he had fallen down the stairs when he wanted to go and check the cellar for contraband, but I don't believe a word they say."

William thought for a few minutes, trying to understand what he had just heard, and then he said, "Why? I mean, you found him in the cellar, and the witnesses told you that he fell down the stairs. What makes you believe that he was murdered? It is a severe charge that you are making. What are your reasons for doing so?"

Campbell did not speak for a moment. He just stared at the fire thoughtfully. Then he said, slowly, "Have you ever seen a man who fell down some stairs? Such a man has serious injuries, no doubt, and these injuries can cause his death, too. What made me think was one thing: In falling down those stairs, Maynard would have hit the stairs or the floor more than once, which means that he should have several injuries. But all I could find was one severe damage of his head, as if someone had hit him on his head with a hammer...not the sort of wound one might expect if a man had fallen down the stairs."

He sipped at his glass. "What makes me furious is that nothing will happen to the murderer. I don't know who it was; the witnesses keep telling me that Maynard fell down the stairs. Either it was one of the men present at the Anchor, and the others are his accomplices. Or..." He stopped and shook his head.

"Or?"

"Or there is someone who they are so afraid of that they will do everything to keep his secret."

"I can understand them, in a way. Someone who is capable of murder once will be quite ready to commit the same crime more often. It looks as if the whole affair has to do with smuggling. Maynard must have got into somebody's way." It was a well-known fact that smugglers were not particularly scrupulous in their methods...

Campbell nodded. "I think you are right, Price, and if it has to do with smuggling, we will never find out what happened. Smugglers are more popular in places like this than customs officers. People will stick together and won't tell a thing, not even if they know who did it. An unpleasant thought."

"An unpleasant thought, indeed. So, what are you going to do?"

"I did my duty in informing the coroner. An inquest will be held tomorrow, and at this inquest I will tell the jury what I told you. They will listen to me, they will listen to the witnesses, and the verdict will be death by accident. And that was it... Maynard will be dead and buried, and whoever killed him will live on as happily as he lived before. The thought makes me sick, I can tell you." Campbell took another mouthful of his brandy.

"Who says that the jury will believe the witnesses? They cannot ignore the evidence, can they?"

"They can, if they want to, and if the whole affair has to do with smuggling, they will want to. They'll have some more evidence before them; they'll see what happens to people if they interfere with the smugglers. Do you think they will challenge them? I don't think so. They will be quite happy that it was not them who got killed. Besides, free trade is quite lucrative. "

Whole towns earned a living with it...

"But what are you going to do if the jury decides that it was an accident?"

Campbell sighed. "Nothing. What else is left for me to do?"

William hated to see his friend so resigned. "You could try to find out what really happened."

"I know what really happened. Maynard went into that cellar, and we can make an educated guess about what he was looking for. Someone followed him, or waited for him, or even went with him. This person smashed his head. Maynard was not prepared for such an attack; there are no signs of a struggle taking place. The only thing I don't know is who did it. It could have been one of the men who act as witnesses now, or it could have been someone else."

William tried again to persuade Campbell. "You could try to find out who it was."

"What's the point? If the jury decide in favour of the accident version of the story, there is no more I can do."

Campbell emptied his glass. "I'd better go to bed now, the inquest will be early tomorrow morning. It's late already..."

William nodded. "You could do with some sleep. Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?"

Campbell shrugged his shoulders. "If you want to, but I don't think you'll be able to help much. Anyway, you don't want to interfere, do you?"

"Let's see what the jury decides, first. And what harm can be done if I try to find out who was at the Anchor when the incident happened? Someone passing the Anchor in the street at that moment? Perhaps someone might be able to tell me a thing or two. If there is some smuggling going on in this place, I might well be able to find out about it."

"And end up like Maynard? Don't do it, Price, keep out of it. There's one more thing. You know the customs people are not very fond of the navy. Do you think they will allow a navy officer to investigate in their affairs? You might get into trouble. Keep your hands off that matter. Have some pleasant weeks here and go away to Plymouth at the end of the month."

William shook his head. How could Campbell expect him to have a pleasant time in Cranston if he knew that such terrible things had happened? He could not sit around doing nothing in the case. No matter what Campbell said, someone had to take some action.

The next morning, the whole town was alarmed with the news of Mr Maynard's death, even more so when the townspeople heard that there was an inquest to be held at the Anchor. The rumours concerning his death were spreading fast. Two hours before the inquest was to take place people were already gathering at the door of the public house to get a good view of everything that happened.

When Campbell and William arrived at the Anchor, William noticed that more than one man glared at his friend. The people seemed to blame Campbell for the whole affair. No one seemed to care much about the fact that Mr Maynard was dead; he had not been the most popular man in the neighbourhood. Still, William would have expected a bit more compassion, if not for Mr Maynard then at least for his family.

They met Mr Adams, who was to be in the jury as well. He told them how much he regretted to meet them again in the present situation, and expressed his hope that the inquest might soon be over because he still had to write a sermon for the next day.

A young gentleman approached Campbell, and bid him good morning.

"It is a grievous business, Campbell, is it not? Let me tell you that you were absolutely right to insist on an inquest. Such a tragic matter must be inquired. But I hope that your suspicions are not true. Murder in our town - I cannot believe it."

"Believe me, Mr Searle, I also hope that I am wrong and I am quite ready to admit it if I have enough proof to rely on."

Mr Searle smiled encouragingly. "You will see everything will turn out for the best, Campbell. We are here to find out the truth."

Campbell was not so sure about that, but did not carry this topic any further.

"Mr Searle, may I introduce my friend, Mr Price? He is my guest for the next three weeks before he has to move on to Plymouth. Price, this is Mr Searle, one of the most influential people in Cranston."

The two gentlemen shook hands, and Mr Searle asked William a few questions about his profession and his stay in Cranston. William thought Mr Searle to be an agreeable fellow, even though the circumstances of their meeting were not the happiest.

Mr Searle told William that he was in trade, he owned two warehouses in Weymouth, but preferred to live in Cranston. On being asked for the reason, he laughed and said, "Well, Mr Price, call it nostalgia. I grew up here, and I am fond of this place. Of course it would be much more convenient if I lived in Weymouth, there'd be no travelling around...but then I think that Cranston is also a far better place for a young lady like my sister. Weymouth can be too crowded sometimes."

While waiting for the coroner to arrive, Campbell introduced William to some gentlemen of his acquaintance, among them Mr Neil Carrick, another revenue officer. Carrick was a man in his mid-forties, and he had been Mr Maynard's senior officer. There had been rumours in town that the two men had not got on very well with each other, Maynard had been a bit too eager for Carrick's taste, and indeed Carrick did not look as if he regretted his colleague's death.
Mr Carrick, as well as Mr Searle, was to be in the coroner's jury, which made William think. Both men did not seem to believe Campbell's report, or at least they refused to see the matter as Campbell saw it. Mr Searle repeatedly expressed that he did not think such a thing as murder could take place in Cranston, because he knew everyone in town and did not believe that any person here might be capable of murder.

Carrick, on the other hand, said that Maynard had had the "nasty habit of being drunk on duty", and that he had foreseen that "liquor would be the death of him sooner or later".
"I wouldn't be surprised if he had been drunk yesterday evening, and fell down the stairs because of that."

Both of them were inclined to believe that Maynard had died in an accident, and they were quite sure that the jury would return this verdict.

The coroner arrived, and the inquest began. All the witnesses were heard, Mr Brown, the innkeeper at the Anchor, and some fishermen who had been with him the previous evening. They all said that Mr Maynard had arrived at the Anchor and had demanded to be shown into the cellar. Mr Brown did not fail to express his irritation as to this point.

"I am an honest man, sir, I've always been! Being suspected of smuggling...that hurt! Well, but I had nothing to hide, so I opened the door and told Mr Maynard to go and see himself. I wanted to go in front of him with a candle, but he didn't want me to. He said he'd go by himself. So I gave him the candle, and he went."

"What happened next, Mr Brown?"

"I heard a cry, and a crash. We all rushed to the cellar door, and I went downstairs to see what happened. I saw Mr Maynard lying there, and told the other men to call for the surgeon."

Campbell was questioned next. He said that Mr Maynard was already dying when he arrived at the Anchor, and he described the injuries Maynard had suffered. The jury listened to his testimony patiently, and the coroner asked Campbell to explain why he had thought the circumstances of Maynard's death suspicious.

Campbell told the jury the same things he had told William the evening before, and then he was dismissed. After only five minutes the jury had decided on a verdict: accidental death.

While walking back home, William and Campbell talked about the events of the day.

"I still cannot believe it, although I've seen it with my own eyes," William said. "What made those men in the jury decide that way?"

"I told you before, it's fear. Not to forget that Maynard was not a very popular man either, there are some people who are quite glad that he's gone."

"There must be some way to find out what has happened."

Campbell looked at William warningly. "You are not going to meddle with affairs that are not your own, are you? I told you before, you might get into trouble."

William nodded, but he already started thinking. A customs officer going into a supposed smuggler's quarter, alone and unarmed? This was not very likely...
Except if he had not suspected a thing...

Part 9

Posted on Sunday, 30 June 2002, at 12:03 p.m.

While all this was going on in Cranston, Liz and Miss Searle were on their walk. Both of them had heard what had happened to Mr Maynard, and both were shocked. First, Miss Searle had wanted to cancel the walk, she said that she would rather not go for a walk as long as a murderer was around.
Her brother had reassured her by telling her that it was not very likely for her to meet Mr Maynard's murderer.

"Emily, you can be absolutely sure that Cranston is the safest place on earth. Do not forget that you promised Miss Martin to walk with her, you know one has to keep one's promises."

Liz had been quite ready to give up the idea of walking if Miss Searle did not feel comfortable in going out, but finally Miss Searle had decided that her brother was right.
They had left Mrs Charles's house in the direction of the hills, while Mr Searle had headed for the Anchor.

For a while, none of the ladies spoke. Both were thinking of Mr Maynard and the circumstances of his death.
Even though Liz had not known this man, except for one brief meeting with him in the street, she felt as if a friend of hers had died. Mr Charles's death had not been long ago, and her feelings as to his decease were still fresh. Liz sympathised with Mr Maynard's family, if there was a family. Perhaps Miss Searle knew...

"Miss Searle, did you know Mr Maynard?"

"Yes, I did, but not very well. My brother asked him to dine with us two or three times, but I have not met him more often."

"Do you know if he had family?"

"As far as I know, there is his mother and a sister who live in Weymouth. I do not have any information if there are more relations. Oh, the whole matter is so horrible, is it not? I mean, he was such an agreeable gentleman, and did no harm to anybody. Why should anyone want to kill him, I wonder? One might as well want to kill...well, I do not know, my brother or me, perhaps."

Miss Searle looked at Liz with big, worried eyes, and Liz tried to calm her.

"We do not know what has happened, Miss Searle. Your brother said that it could also have been an accident. Let us hope so. One should not think of the worst, you know."

"You are right, to be sure. It is only...." Miss Searle stopped, and averted her eyes. Suddenly she looked as if she was going to cry.

Liz looked at her in surprise. "Miss Searle, are you unwell?"

Miss Searle shook her head. "No, it is nothing, Miss Martin. Let us move on, shall we? Let us not talk about this tragic matter any more." She looked at Liz, smiling, but Liz could see that the smile was not real. Miss Searle's eyes were sad.

They went on, and Liz wondered what Miss Searle had wanted to say, but she did not inquire any further.
After a while Liz started to enjoy the lovely scenery and the fine weather and feasted her eyes on the beauty of the place. Miss Searle seemed to be in deep thought.

Finally, she sighed and said to Liz, "I am so glad I have found a friend like you, Miss Martin. There are not many young ladies in Cranston whom my brother thinks to be suitable companions for me. And those he believes to be so are not quite my idea of pleasant company. You are the only exception."

Liz felt flattered, but she also felt the impropriety of such a confession. No wonder that some of the Cranston ladies thought Miss Searle to be ill behaved, if she expressed her opinion in such a strong way to a person she hardly knew. If Liz had been an old friend, or a relative, it would have been a different matter. Perhaps Miss Searle had not yet learned to distrust people...and Liz hoped that this would not be necessary either.

So Mr Searle believed her to be a suitable companion for his sister...whatever that meant, it sounded like good news.

"Your brother seems to be very concerned about you, Miss Searle. Is he your only relative?"

"Not quite, no. We have an aunt and uncle in London, but we do not see them very often. Sometimes they come to visit Richard and me, but I haven't seen them for more than a year. I must admit we are not very fond of them, so we do not really miss them if they are not here."

Again, Miss Searle's frankness bothered Liz. It might get Miss Searle into trouble one day.

"You see, Miss Martin, Mama died when I was born, and I was brought up by my nurse and Mlle Thierry, my French governess. Papa died two years ago, and since then my brother has taken care of me. He is a very good brother, I could not wish for a better, but he is very busy, and so I am on my own most of the time. I do not really like Mademoiselle, she is my governess, and so she keeps telling me what I ought to do and what I ought not to do...this is why I am not really fond of her company. I do not like that sort of thing, people telling me what to do. I am what I am, and if people do not like me for it I cannot help them. I cannot pretend things, that is my big problem. If I like people, I show it, and if I do not like them, I show it too. That makes me a bit unpopular hereabouts. Especially Miss Rigby seems to hate me, I do not know why."

"I have already heard of Miss Rigby, Miss Searle, but I have not yet met her. Who is she?"

"Miss Rigby is a young lady who lives about three miles from here, in Chickerell. Her father is a knight, Sir Anthony Rigby. Some people say she is in love with my brother, but I think all she wants is his money, and I told him so."

Liz laughed. This was hardly believable. "You did?"

"Oh yes, and he got pretty angry with me when I did."

"I can imagine that, Miss Searle. I have a brother too, and I am just trying to imagine his reaction if I ever tried to interfere with his affairs."

Well, he told me off once, as far as I can remember...that was when I asked him why he hadn't proposed to Harriet yet. He was pretty angry at that time...

"Oh, you have a brother? Tell me about him, please, Miss Martin!"

So Liz obliged Miss Searle's wish and told her about her family, and Miss Searle listened to her attentively, occasionally asking questions, and taking delight in everything Liz could tell her about Abbey Mill Farm.
When Liz told her about her sister Catherine and Harriet, she sighed.

"Oh, I wish I had a sister, too, Miss Martin. You seem to have so much fun with your sisters, I quite envy you."

"I'm sure you will have a sister one day, Miss Searle. As soon as your brother marries, that is."

Let's only hope that he is not already planning to marry....

Miss Searle sighed again. "As long as he does not marry Miss Rigby, I will be perfectly contented. I am glad to see that he seems to pay less attention to her lately."

Me, too...

"I can only hope that I'll be able to like the woman he marries."

Liz nodded. "You will have to try, Miss Searle. Give her a fair chance to be friends with you. If not for her sake, you should try it for your brother's sake."

"I am sure any woman my brother falls in love with deserves my affection, Miss Martin."

What does she mean with telling me that? Does she think...does she want to give me a hint? Now, calm down Liz, don't get carried away.

Now they had reached the summit of the hill, and turned round to enjoy the view. It was breathtaking, the sea stretching out in front of them, sparkling in the bright sunlight. The beach was stretching in the distance, and one could see that there was a lagoon behind the beach. Some villages were at the shore of this lagoon, and Liz asked Miss Searle the names of these villages.

"Oh, these are Chickerell, and Moonfleet. I like the view from this hill, don't you, Miss Martin?"

"It is charming, Miss Searle. I have never seen anything so beautiful before. Thank you for taking me here."

Miss Searle blushed. "You are welcome, Miss Martin. It is what I wanted you to see. This is my favourite spot, you must know. There is a ruined chapel over there, I think it is particularly romantic, do you not think so, too?"

Liz turned round and saw the ruin. It was clearly an old building; it had been destroyed long ago and was now overgrown with bushes. It had a desolate, gloomy look.

"What do you mean with "romantic", Miss Searle?"

"It looks so...well, I do not know why, but it appeals to me somehow. I would not go here after dark, though."

"Neither would I, because I am sure I wouldn't be able to find the way back," Liz said, grinning.

"No, not because of that, Miss Martin. No, people say the place is haunted."

Liz looked at Miss Searle in disbelief. "Haunted? You do not believe in ghosts, do you, Miss Searle?"

"Well," Miss Searle answered hesitatingly, "I do not believe in them in the light of day, Miss Martin, but when it gets dark, and I come across a place like that...I feel very uncomfortable. And sometimes there are lights on this hill..." Miss Searle shivered.

Liz laughed. "My brother used to tell me ghost stories, sometimes. Usually he told them to keep me away from certain places, and to scare me seemed to be the only method he thought to be successful. The result of his stories was that I was practically wild to go to these locations and see them myself, so after some time he gave up telling me scary tales."

"And still I am not sure, Miss Martin..."

"Come on, Miss Searle, let us go and have a look at that building. I am sure there are no ghosts, whatever you may have been told. There is no such thing as spirits, believe me."

So they both went off to explore the ruin, Miss Searle rather hesitatingly at first, and after that they sat down to rest before they went on their way back to Cranston.

While they were walking back, a young gentleman came towards them, and Miss Searle was delighted to see that it was her brother.

"I asked him to come along on our walk, and had it not been for the inquest he would have come. I did not expect him to join us, but he does. Is he not sweet?"

Liz laughed. "Sweet" was not the exact term that came to her mind when she thought of Mr Searle, but she, too, was pleased to see him.

"I thought I'll go and look out for my sister and her guest," he said when he joined them.

"Oh Richard, how very nice of you," Miss Searle exclaimed happily. Then she got earnest again and demanded to know what had happened at the inquest and what the verdict had been.

"It is as I told you before, Emily, there is no murderer in Cranston. You can feel absolutely safe."

"So Mr Maynard was killed in an accident, Mr Searle," Liz asked seriously.

Mr Searle sighed. "It seems so, yes, Miss Martin. It is a dreadful business nevertheless, whatever the reason for Mr Maynard's death may have been. Did you know Mr Maynard?"

"I met him once, when you showed Cranston to me and Mrs Charles."

"Ah yes, now I remember. He was a very hard-working man, very ambitious, too. His family and friends will miss him, without a doubt. Next time I get to Weymouth I will pay a visit to his mother and sister and offer them my assistance. They were entirely dependent on Maynard...it's awful."

"Oh, do not talk about that man any more, Richard, I cannot bear it! It is so sad...tell us something pleasant, please," Miss Searle said.

Mr Searle smiled. "And what would you like to hear, Emily?"

"I do not know, something pleasant."

"Something pleasant...let me see...Do you want to come to Weymouth with me on Monday, Emily?"

"You are going to Weymouth on Monday?"

"I've got some business there, and I want to visit Mrs and Miss Maynard, that's why. One should not defer good resolutions for too long. Now, do you want to come with me?"

"Of course I do. I need a new dress for the assembly, Richard."

Mr Searle laughed. "Again? I think your old one looks absolutely fine, Emily."

Miss Searle shook her head. "Oh no, the old one will not do. It is completely out of style. Please, Richard," and she looked at her brother pleadingly.

Mr Searle turned to Liz. "What do you say, Miss Martin, do I actually have a chance to refuse my sister her wish?"

Liz gave a mischievous smile. "I do not know, Mr Searle, have you?"

"I am afraid not, Miss Martin. I am sure I am spoiling her, but what can I do?"

He turned to his sister again and promised to buy a new dress for her.

"But this is the last one for the next two years, Emily, do you hear," he said in an attempt to sound strict.

Miss Searle just smiled sweetly and said, "I do not worry because of that. I am sure I will grow, and then I will need some new things. Listen, Richard, I told Miss Martin that the old chapel was haunted, but she did not believe me."

Mr Searle laughed. "Why not, Miss Martin?"

"Well, Mr Searle," Liz replied smilingly, "Because such stories are usually made up, that is all. Miss Searle did not tell me who told her the old chapel was haunted, but I have my suspicions as to that."

Mr Searle grinned. "Go on, Miss Martin."

"I suspect that you told the stories to your sister to keep her away from the ruin. I understand you in a way; little sisters can be a nuisance sometimes. I was one, too."

"A little sister, perhaps, Miss Martin, but I am sure you never were a nuisance. I have to admit that you astonish me; you are a very smart young lady. Now I have to confess the truth. Yes, I did tell those stories to my sister, and yes, I did so because I wanted her to keep away from that particular place. Ruins are not the safest place to be."

"I knew it," Liz exclaimed cheerfully.

They had reached Mrs Charles's house by now, and the Searles took leave of Elizabeth. Liz noticed that Mr Searle looked at her intensely while she was talking to his sister, and blushed.
Could it be that he was seriously interested in her?

Part 10 ~ A Lover and a Friend

Posted on Wednesday, 3 July 2002, at 12:41 a.m.

A few days after Liz's walk with Miss Searle and the inquest, Liz got three letters from Abbey Mill Farm. One was from Robert, with some lines from Harriet and her mother, telling her all the news from home. Liz had to smile while she read the letter, each of her correspondents had a special way of expressing themselves, and in reading the letter she realised how much she really missed them. During the last week so many things had happened, that she had sometimes nearly forgotten about her family. Now that she read their letter, she felt sorry for this and wished that she could be with them.

The second letter was from Catherine. It was a very cheerful one, describing Catherine's duties as a housewife, and containing some of "George's droll remarks" that made Liz laugh. George Mason...he was the perfect husband for her sister. Catherine had always been so calm and earnest; she needed a husband who could make her laugh.

Not even Mrs Knightley would have found such a match for Cathy, Liz thought, grinning. Mrs Knightley's ability in matchmaking was a sort of private joke between her and Harriet, after Harriet had told her why she had refused Robert in the beginning.

Liz took the third letter and opened it. It was from Davey Harris, with another note from Robert.

Deer Miss Martin,
I promissed you a letter and ere it is. It warn't eesy to get some papper , because Ma said we have no paper an Dad said no way he's not gonna buy any. So I went to Mr Martin and asked him if he could borrow me some till i can buy some for meself an he was very friendly and larfed and gave me paper an said he'd send the letter along with his own an I belif that was reely generas of him don't you think so too miss Martin?
Everyone is reely fine over here, I hope you are fine too Miss Martin. I read evry day or try to at least, but Dad says I have to do my work first and so I can't read as oftern as I want to.
You are relly missed over here, Miss Martin and I hope you'll be back soon before it gets too cold for my lessons in the garden house.

Yours etc.
David (Davey) Harris

Liz was really moved to receive a letter from Davey, and she could not help but laugh at his way of expressing himself and some of his mistakes. Davey's spelling was really... adventurous, to say the least. She was still laughing when there was a knock at the door and Mr and Mrs Campbell and Mr Price were announced.

Even though Liz did not really like Mrs Campbell and could do very well without her company, she was pleased to see Mr Campbell and Mr Price. Both of them were agreeable gentlemen, and since the dinner party Liz had wished to meet Mr Price again. His easy manner and his friendly ways had already won Liz's heart, and she had been looking forward to meeting him again. First she had hoped to meet him at the assembly, but meeting him here was even more agreeable, as there were no more young ladies with whom she had to share him.

Be reasonable, Liz, Mr Price is not interested in you at all. No more than he ought to be as an acquaintance.

After the gentlemen had been introduced to Mrs Charles and had answered some of her remarks, they took their seats just opposite Liz, and Mr Price said, "Miss Martin, you are very cheerful this morning. It is good to see a lady in such excellent spirits, is it not, Campbell?"

Mr Campbell agreed.

"It is true, I am very cheerful today. I just read some letters from home, Mr Price."

"Your family are all in good health, I hope?"

"Yes, they are all fine, thank you Mr Price." Liz wondered why Mr Price was so interested in her family.

Her look might have betrayed something of her thoughts, because Mr Price continued and said, "You told me so much about your family the other day, Miss Martin, that I wanted to know about their well-being. Though I do not know them, they seem to be old acquaintances by now."

I must have plagued him with my family affairs...oh dear, I did not want that, Liz thought and blushed. At the same time she was angry with herself for blushing, it was not her way normally.

Mr Price smiled. "I think it is a wonderful trait of character if someone is so fond of their family, Miss Martin."

If that was possible, Liz blushed even more.

"Thank...thank you, Mr Price, I take this as a compliment," she stammered.

Stop being so stupid, Liz, will you? Don't behave in that way, or he will believe you are the greatest simpleton that ever lived!

"Do you enjoy your stay in Cranston, Miss Martin," Mr Campbell asked. "Now that you have had time to see some more of the town and to make some acquaintances, what do you think of Cranston?"

"Oh, I do like it very much, Mr Campbell. I have made the acquaintance of Miss Searle, and she has gone for a walk with me. The scenery around here is so beautiful, is it not? I am still fascinated by the sea...that must sound silly to you, though."

Mr Price looked at her wonderingly. "Not at all, Miss Martin. What makes you think so?"

Something in his look made Liz hesitate. "Nothing, Mr Price. I only thought...well, just forget what I said, will you?"

"Miss Martin, this will not do. I will not rest until I found out what you meant, so you can as well tell me now," he said, smiling teasingly.

"Do you think Mr Price is serious, Mr Campbell," Liz said, grinning.

"As serious as can be, Miss Martin," was Mr Campbell's answer. He had watched his friend for the last quarter of an hour and had his own suspicions concerning William Price and his feelings for Miss Martin.

"The only reason why I thought that, Mr Price, is that you are used to the sea, so there might not be much fascination in it for you."

"I assure you that this is not true, Miss Martin. You can be absolutely certain that I would never think you to be silly just because you admire the sea. In fact, I think you are a very reasonable lady."

Now Mrs Campbell addressed Liz, talking to her about the assembly that was to take place the next day.

"I have just told Mrs Charles that you are to spend the night at our place after the assembly, Miss Martin. I would not have you walk all the way home unattended, in the middle of the night."

Mrs Charles agreed. "I think it is very kind of Mrs Campbell to make this offer, Elizabeth."

"Indeed it is, Mrs Charles. Thank you for your offer, Mrs Campbell, I really appreciate it."

After that they settled everything for the next evening. Liz was to come to Mrs Campbell's, and from there they were to go to the Red Lion. Liz had to admit that she was looking forward to that assembly; she longed to have some entertainment.
Much as she liked to be with Mrs Charles, the evenings were rather dull sometimes.

After the Campbells and Mr Price had left, Mrs Charles did not say much for a while, which was quite unusual.

Finally she turned to Liz and said, "Well, Elizabeth, that Mr Price is an amiable young gentleman, is he not?"

"He is, Mrs Charles."

Mrs Charles gave Liz an inquiring look. There was nothing that confirmed her suspicion, and still...

"Do you think you will dance with him tomorrow, Elizabeth?"

"If he asks me to, I will, Mrs Charles. What do you mean with all those questions?"

"Well, Elizabeth, in a way I am reminded of my own youth."

"You mean I...no, Mrs Charles, I am not!"

"You do not like Mr Price, then?"

"I do like him, but ..." Then Liz understood what Mrs Charles meant.

"No, Mrs Charles, I am not in....I mean, Mr Price is agreeable and I like him, but that is it. There is no...I do not claim to know what it is like to be in love, but I know I am not in love with Mr Price."

"Do you? Well, this is more than I know, then."

Mrs Charles said no more about this matter. The situation between Elizabeth and Mr Price reminded her of her own youth, as she had said before. She herself had reacted in a very similar manner once when her aunt had asked her about a certain Mr Charles, after the assembly at the Crown in Highbury...

A very similar conversation took place in Mr Campbell's study, half an hour later.

"Well, Price, what do you think of Miss Martin? She's a delightful girl, isn't she?"

"Delightful, yes."

"Come on, Price, I know you are head over heels in love with her. Just tell me that it is so, because I know it already."

William sighed. "Is it really so obvious?"

"Not for someone who does not know you as well as I do, Price. I have to congratulate you on your taste. She is absolutely worth it. Do you want to hear my advice?"

"Well?"

"You'd better show her what you feel, or someone else will snatch her away from you before you even notice it."

William sighed. "I am sure she does not even consider me."

"Who says so? I am sure she does. But women are not supposed to show their feelings clearly, at least not before they are engaged or married. There is no need for you to be so unsure of yourself, Price, this is not your way anyway. Make yourself agreeable and show her how you feel before someone else does. You'll regret it if you don't."

"Thank you for your advice, Campbell, but I think I can handle my own affairs very well."

Mr Campbell shrugged his shoulders. "I just wanted to be of assistance, Price."

The evening of the assembly had finally come. Liz was in her room, getting ready for the event.

Against her will she had to admit that she quite liked the way she looked. Sarah had helped her with her hair, and it did look very good, for Liz's standards. Liz had put on the dress she had worn at Catherine's wedding, and Mrs Charles had lent her one of her necklaces.
Liz went to the drawing room to present herself to Mrs Charles before she left, and Mrs Charles smiled at her approvingly.

"You look very pretty tonight, Elizabeth. I am sure all the young gentlemen in Cranston will want to dance with you. Have a wonderful evening, amuse yourself."

"I think I will amuse myself excessively, Mrs Charles."

"Good, this is what I want you to do. Give my regards to Mr and Mrs Campbell and Mr Price, Elizabeth, and to Mr and Miss Searle, too. And now, off you go, or you will be late."

Liz smiled. "Good night, Mrs Charles. I wish you a pleasant evening, too."

When Liz arrived at Mrs Campbell's place, she was shown into the parlour, where the gentlemen were already waiting. Mrs Campbell was not yet ready, as her husband said.

"My wife is still getting ready, Miss Martin. Take a seat for a moment, she will be here directly. May I tell you that you look very pretty tonight?"

Liz blushed and thanked Mr Campbell. She cast a glance at Mr Price and had to admit that he looked very handsome in his blue coat.

Mr Price bowed and said, "Miss Martin, may I ask you to dance the first two dances with me? It would be a great honour for me if you did."

Liz smiled. "Certainly, Mr Price. The honour is all mine."

What a promising beginning, Liz thought. I wonder what the evening has still in store for me.

Part 11

Posted on Saturday, 6 July 2002, at 3:41 a.m.

The first thing Liz did when they entered the ballroom at the Red Lion was to cast a searching look across the room to see if Mr Searle and his sister had already arrived. There was nothing to be seen of them, so Liz settled down with Mrs Campbell while the gentlemen went to fetch some punch for them.
Mrs Campbell again asked Liz what she thought of her dress, for no other reason than to be complimented once more. Liz hoped she would not see too much of Mrs Campbell that evening, complimenting Mrs Campbell on her dress thirty times was not her idea of passing a pleasant evening.

I wonder why Mr and Miss Searle are not here yet. Hopefully nothing has happened to them on their way here, Liz thought. Meeting Mr Searle and his sister had been one of the reasons why she had agreed to go to this assembly.

While she was still waiting for Mr and Miss Searle's arrival, Liz was introduced to some more of Mrs Campbell's acquaintances, among them a Mr and Mrs Carrick and their son and daughter.
Mr and Mrs Adams were here, also, and took their seats with the Campbells. Mr Price already knew Mr Carrick, and talked to him for a few minutes before he sat down next to Liz and asked, "Do you already have a large acquaintance in Cranston, Miss Martin?"

"No, not quite, Mr Price. I know Mr and Miss Searle, Mr and Mrs Adams, and I have just met the Carricks. This is not what I call a large acquaintance."

Mr Price laughed. "Larger than my acquaintance here, though. I do not know Miss Searle."

"But you know Mr Carrick, do you not? I saw you talking to him just before."

"That is right, Miss Martin, I have met Mr Carrick before."

Again, Liz looked about her to see if Mr and Miss Searle were here.

"Are you looking for somebody in particular, Miss Martin, or are you just having a look if you know any of the people here," Mr Price inquired.

"I wonder why Miss Searle and her brother are not here yet. Do you think something has happened to them?"

Mr Price shook his head. "No, I do not think so. Don't be uneasy, Miss Martin, I am sure they will arrive in a moment."

Just as he had finished his sentence, Mr and Miss Searle entered the room, and at the same moment Miss Searle went towards Liz.

"Miss Martin! Good evening! Oh, how beautiful you look tonight, does she not, Richard?"

Mr Searle cast an admiring glance at Liz and agreed.

"Not half as beautiful as you look, Miss Searle," was Liz's answer. "Is this your new dress?"

"Oh, yes, it is, Miss Martin. Do you like it?"

Liz looked at the exquisite dress Miss Searle was wearing. There was a great deal of satin and lace of the most expensive sort.

That gown must have cost a fortune, she thought.

"It is lovely, Miss Searle. Your brother is a very generous gentleman."

"Well, he only buys the best things for me, Miss Martin."

William, meanwhile, had watched Elizabeth and Mr Searle. Liz's happy smile when Mr Searle had entered the room had not escaped his notice, neither had Mr Searle's look at Elizabeth. It seemed that he had a rival for Miss Martin's affection - not a pleasant thought, especially because Mr Searle was good-looking, agreeable and rich.
If Miss Martin was really in love with that man, his chances to win her love were practically non-existent. Still, one could hope and dream...dreams were not forbidden, were they?

"Miss Martin, if you are not otherwise engaged, would you dance the first two dances with me," Mr Searle asked Elizabeth.

"I am sorry, Mr Searle, but I already promised the first two dances to Mr Price."

"What about the next two then, Miss Martin?"

"With the greatest pleasure, Mr Searle. I will dance the next two dances with you."

Mr Searle bowed and smiled at Liz. Then a young lady joined them. Her dress was a bit ... well, it was very fashionable, but it did not become her. Neither did her hairstyle. It looked as if this lady had just tried to be fashionable without having the least clue as to what really became her.
Miss Searle introduced Liz to Miss Rigby, the young lady of whom Liz had already heard a lot. Miss Rigby gave her a sharp look. Her thoughts were obvious to everyone present. She seemed to be determined to let Liz know that she did not want a rival with Mr Searle.

For the following minutes, until the dance started, Miss Rigby engaged Mr Searle in conversation and made sure that he had no more chance to talk to Liz. However, the fact that Mr Searle asked her for the first two dances made her feel sure that this Miss Martin was no danger for her.

The music commenced, and the couples gathered for the first dance. Liz enjoyed dancing with Mr Price; he was not only an excellent dancer but also a delightful talker. Time passed quickly with him, too quickly, Liz thought when the dance ended and Mr Price led her back to her seat.

The next two dances with Mr Searle were pleasant, too, but not as pleasant as with Mr Price. Somehow Liz felt much more at ease in Mr Price's company than in Mr Searle's.

Probably that is because I care much more for Mr Searle's good opinion than for Mr Price's, Liz thought.

William was dancing these two dances with Miss Searle, and did his best to make himself agreeable. Still he could not keep his eyes from Elizabeth, who was dancing with Mr Searle, laughing, and flirting excessively, in his opinion.

Then his eyes met Elizabeth's, and he turned to Miss Searle again, saying something pleasant to make her laugh, so Miss Martin would not get the impression that she was the only young lady in the room who liked his company.

Seeing Elizabeth flirt with Mr Searle hurt him, but he would never show it. If she was happy with Mr Searle, there was nothing he could do.

It is better to be her friend than to mean nothing to her, he thought. I'm not going to risk that friendship by doing something stupid.

After the dance, the gentlemen led the ladies back to their seats, and Liz spent some time talking with Mr Searle.

"Please give my regards to Mrs Charles, Miss Martin, and tell her that I am very sorry I did not call on her these days. I had some important business in Weymouth."

"I will, Mr Searle. I am sure Mrs Charles will understand."

"Did you have a pleasant time during the last few days, Miss Martin?"

"Well, I read a lot, and I went for walks with Mrs Charles. They were not as delightful as the walk with your sister, though, as Mrs Charles cannot walk that far, but I have seen a great deal of the surroundings of Cranston. You see, Mr Searle, I have not been idle."

"I would never have supposed you to be so, Miss Martin."

"I missed your sister's company, though. I am sure there are still some haunted spots in the neighbourhood that she has not shown me yet."

Mr Searle laughed. "I guess I am going to hear that again and again as long as you are here in Cranston, Miss Martin."

"So you will." Liz grinned. "My brother says I hardly ever miss a chance of teasing people, and I am afraid that is true."

"I do not mind being teased, Miss Martin. I am sure I can take it."

"Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Martin?"

Liz had not noticed that Mr Price and Miss Searle had joined them, and so she was taken aback by Mr Price's question at first.
There was something in his tone of voice that she did not like - although she did not know what it was. It sounded a bit like annoyance, but she could not for the life of her think of anything she might have done to deserve his anger.

"Oh yes, I am, Mr Price. Aren't you?" She gave him an inquiring look.

"I certainly am, Miss Martin."

"I thought so. Mr Price, I am sure you are going to break at least one heart tonight."

"I have no intention of doing so, Miss Martin. What about you? Do you know how many hearts you are going to break tonight?"

"None, I hope. I am not very likely to break hearts, Mr Price." Liz laughed. "Really, Mr Price, you sound rather serious. This will not do, will it, Mr Searle?"

Mr Searle smiled and agreed.

" Come, Mr Price, let us shake hands and be friends again. I cannot bear seeing you so earnest," Liz said, reaching her hand towards him.

Mr Price took her hand hesitatingly and smiled. "Very well, Miss Martin, friends again."

Later that evening something happened that reminded William of his resolution to try to find out what had really caused Maynard, the customs officer's, death.

He was dancing with Miss Rigby and was just waiting for their turn at the end of the set, when he overheard a conversation.

"Do you really think that was necessary?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about. If the coroner hadn't..."

"Will you just shut up? Someone might listen! If it hadn't been necessary, it wouldn't have been done. Anyway, are you coming along next week?"

"Isn't that a bit risky, so soon after...."

"What would you suggest? Customers are waiting! We can't afford to keep them waiting, can we?"

"I don't know if it's right..."

"You don't know and still you tell me to do my job! That's a good one! Don't ask me for a favour any more in the future, just do everything your way and see what you'll get. It's next week or never!"

It was strange that people who were in a large crowd always believed that no one was paying attention to them anyway. William had heard enough. These two men had been talking about smuggling goods, and even though he had not been able to turn around and look at them or to identify them by their voices, there had been something familiar about them.

William tried hard not to show his alarm. If those people noticed that he had overheard their talk, they would not hesitate to do the same thing to him as they had done to Maynard. He had to be careful, or he would not be able to be of use to anyone, not even to himself.

When William went to ask Mrs Campbell for the next dance, he touched his friend's shoulder and said, "Campbell, may I have a word with you later?"

Campbell looked at him questioningly. "What for?"

"I cannot tell you now. Can we talk later? At home?"

Campbell nodded, and William led Mrs Campbell to the dance.

William was a very patient man, but Mrs Campbell was one of the few people who could nearly make him lose his patience sometimes. He had already wondered what had made his friend marry that woman, but of course he did not show it.

"Are you enjoying the assembly, Mrs Campbell," he asked.

"It is very nice, sir, although I have to say that I do not enjoy it as much as I used to do. Assemblies are much more fun for a lady if she is not married; nobody pays much attention to a married woman any more."

"Mrs Campbell, I am sure there are quite a lot of young ladies in this room who can never be compared to you concerning elegance or ladylike behaviour."

Mrs Campbell smiled graciously. "How nice of you to say so, Mr Price. I do indeed feel that I could be an example to young ladies, if I wanted to."

Let's hope not, William thought. I guess when God gave modesty to mankind, Mrs Campbell missed the appointment.

"What do you think, Mr Price, Miss Martin is dancing with Mr Searle for a second time already. Are they not a delightful couple?"

"You are right, Mrs Campbell, they are ... delightful."

And you are sure to hit anybody's Achilles' heel, Mrs Campbell!

"I wonder what Miss Rigby will say about it."

"Is Miss Rigby engaged to Mr Searle?"

"No, but she would not mind if she was." Mrs Campbell giggled. "Well, one should never be too sure. I have to admit I like the thought of my friend staying in Cranston, married to the richest man in town."

William did not even bother to answer this remark, as he knew that Mrs Campbell did not really expect an answer. The richest man in Cranston...what could a young lieutenant who had to support his family do to compete with him? Nothing at all...

Liz had amused herself excessively all evening, although Mr Price's behaviour towards her had irritated her for a moment. But now that he was dancing the last two dances with her, he was his old self again.

"Are you sorry that the evening is over so soon, Miss Martin?"

"Oh yes, I would not mind if it went on forever. I have no wish to go home now, and still I will have to. What about you? Did you enjoy yourself?"

Mr Price smiled. " I am enjoying myself now, Miss Martin."

Liz laughed. "You are so gallant, Mr Price, but sometimes I wish I could read your mind. I'd like to know what you are really thinking."

"I assure you Miss Martin that I am really thinking what I said just now."

The music stopped, and Mr Price offered Liz his arm.

"Shall we join Mr and Mrs Campbell? I suppose they are already waiting for us."

Liz took his arm and smiled at him. The evening had been just as she had expected it to be. She had met pleasant people, she had danced with Mr Searle and Mr Price, and she had been able to strengthen her friendship with Miss Searle. It had been a wonderful evening, and Liz felt sorry that it was over. There was one thing she could look forward to, though. Miss Searle had asked her to walk with her again the next day. Perhaps Mr Searle would join them again?

Part 12

Posted on Tuesday, 9 July 2002, at 2:32 a.m.

After the assembly, the ladies retired to their rooms, and William and Mr Campbell stayed in the drawing room of Mr Campbell's house. Mr Campbell had offered William some brandy, which he had accepted gratefully. Now they were sitting next to the fireside, facing each other, and Mr Campbell gave William a searching look.

"So, what is the important matter you wanted to talk about, Price?"

"Today at the assembly I heard...well, I overheard some bits of conversation which were quite interesting, considering the events of last week, Campbell."

Campbell looked at William wonderingly. "You mean the Maynard affair, right?"

"Right. It seems that the smugglers are going to land some contraband next week."

Campbell shook his head in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"According to what I have heard, yes."

"Why should they discuss such a matter at an assembly, with dozens of people around?"

"Can you think of a better place? A more inconspicuous one? People talking with each other at an assembly in a seemingly cheerful manner...no one will suspect a thing, as long as they don't hear what they are saying. Nobody will listen normally, as long as they behave as they are supposed to in that particular place."

"I don't think I get your point there, Price."

"Let's put it that way, Campbell. If you are at an assembly or a ball, you usually only pay attention to the people you are talking to at the moment. If you happen to look about and see other people talk, you are not really interested in what they might say...well, as long as they talk to each other the way they usually do in such a situation. The only thing that might attract your attention would be if one of them did something unusual."

"You are right, Price. I never thought about that."

"Every other meeting might be observed because it would be something unusual. People only see what they want to see, they close their eyes to the facts if the facts do not fit in with their sense of reality. Nobody would expect such a meeting to take place among other people - and so nobody notices if such a meeting DOES take place. A crowd is a perfect hiding place, sometimes."

Campbell nodded thoughtfully. "So there will be an attempt to land contraband next week - but where? If we want the smugglers to get caught, we will have to tell Carrick where the whole thing is to take place."

"Carrick ? What for?"

"Carrick is the customs officer hereabouts, did you forget? If someone has to take action against smuggling, it is his job. You might get into trouble if you interfere with his affairs, I told you so before."

William thought for a moment, then he said, "I do not know why, but somehow I think that Carrick is ... not completely trustworthy."

Campbell was surprised. "What makes you think so? There is nothing wrong with Carrick, I can tell you."

"It is just a sort of feeling ... call it instinct or whatever you like. Maybe I am wrong altogether, but I do not quite trust him. I don't like him, either."

"Sure, he is not the most pleasant man in my acquaintance, but believe me, as far as his work is concerned, he is absolutely reliable."

William frowned. "Let's hope so. Well, tomorrow I'll go for a nice long walk..."

"You are not going to look for the smuggler's landing spot, are you?"

"If I should happen to find something..."

"Price!"

"Do you want to join me?" William grinned.

"I will, to keep you out of trouble. Now for something different...did you enjoy yourself tonight?"

"Of course I did. What makes you believe that I didn't?"

"The way you looked, and the way you acted. It was not like you."

William sighed. "Someone said she would like to read my mind, and somehow I wish she could."

"May I put in "Miss Martin" instead of "someone", Price?"

"You may. She seems to believe that my interest in her is merely...that of a friend, and I don't have the courage to tell her that it isn't. It would still be rather early if I did. Tell me your honest opinion, Campbell, after you have seen her with me and...Searle, do I have a chance of succeeding with her?"

Campbell shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know. All I can advise you to do is to keep trying. Don't give up."

"I mean, she would be rather stupid to give up a rich, agreeable man just for the sake of being with me."

Campbell gave his friend an inquiring look. This was not the sort of talk he was used to hearing from him. It seemed that the matter was far more serious than his friend wanted to admit, and he could only wish that everything would turn out well.

Liz was lying in her bed, but she could not sleep. It was not only the fact that she was not used to this room that kept her awake. Neither was it the fact that she was still very much excited by this evening's events. No, the more she tried to settle down and fall asleep, the more she started to worry.
She worried about the way she had acted tonight. She had enjoyed herself, it was true, but had her behaviour really been proper? She thought of Mr Price's behaviour towards her, and realised that something was wrong, even if she did not know what it was.

I cannot claim to know Mr Price very well, so how am I supposed to know what his usual behaviour is? I may have been mistaken by my first impression of him. Somehow I think he was annoyed with me - but why? What have I done to him?

Liz thought about it some time, but did not have a clue.

When I met him the other evening I didn't get the impression that he was the sort of man who kept everything to himself. Oh no, not at all...but tonight he seemed to be reserved. I would be very sorry if I lost his friendship for some reason or other...but how am I to know what I did wrong? There is only one thing to do...I'll have to ask him.

Liz turned over in her bed. Asking him...that was easier said than done. What would his impression be if she just went up to him and asked him what was wrong? It would be highly improper...

It doesn't matter. I have to know. I'll ask him, no matter what he thinks about me afterwards. He won't be more annoyed with me than he was yesterday.

And, while she slowly drifted off to sleep, a plan formed in the back of her mind...

Liz got up early the next morning. She was to breakfast with the Campbells, before Mrs Campbell would walk with her to Mrs Charles's. Liz got dressed quickly and hoped that she would get an opportunity to talk to Mr Price alone before Mr and Mrs Campbell joined them for breakfast. She had to know why he had been so distant, so formal last evening. Liz really cared for Mr Price's friendship, and the thought of having hurt him, however unintentionally, worried her. She wanted to sort out the situation at once.

Liz was lucky. When she entered the dining room, Mr Price rose from his chair and greeted her with a friendly smile. He was the only person present at the moment.
Liz was relieved to see his smile. Whatever his problem might have been the evening before, it was over now...still, she wanted to know what it had been.

"Good morning, Mr Price. You are up very early today."

"So are you, Miss Martin. Do you have any plans for this morning?"

"Not in particular, no. Mrs Campbell is going to walk back to Mrs Charles's with me later in the morning, but otherwise...what about you?"

"I have no special reason for being up so early, Miss Martin, except for the fact that I am used to getting up at this time of day."

"I see. Mr Price, may I ask you a question," Liz said.

He looked at her curiously. What was she up to?

"But you must promise me not to be angry with me, Mr Price." She looked straight into his eyes.

"I promise, Miss Martin. I will not be angry with you, whatever you ask me."

"Yesterday evening...were you cross with me?"

William had not expected such a question from her. What was he to answer? Should he be honest? No, that was out of the question.

"Why do you think that I was, Miss Martin?"

" It was your tone of voice when you were talking to me, sometimes...and some of the things you said, too. Be honest, Mr Price. If I did something wrong, I would like to know." She looked at him earnestly.

"You did nothing wrong, Miss Martin."

She gave him an inquiring look. No, whatever he said, something had been wrong, he just did not want to tell her. Very well, then...

"Mr Price, whatever it may have been, it is obvious that you do not want to tell me, but I still believe that I am right and there was something. Please let me assure you that I feel very sorry if I have ... insulted you in any way."

William smiled. "There is nothing you have to feel sorry for, Miss Martin. Believe me. If I seemed to be cross with you yesterday, it is my turn to say I am sorry now. I did not want to spoil your evening."

"You did not spoil my evening at all, Mr Price, on the contrary!" Liz gave him a radiant smile. "Friends, Mr Price?"

He laughed. "By all means, Miss Martin."

The door opened, and Mr Campbell joined them. He seemed to be a bit puzzled at first to find his friend and Miss Martin all alone, but he soon adapted to the situation and they were a very cheerful breakfast party, until Mrs Campbell joined them, too. During breakfast, Mr Campbell got a message that his help was needed, and he had to put off his walk with William.

"Oh, how can you do this to one of your guests," Mrs Campbell lamented. "Can't you go there after the walk?"

"I will tell all my patients to fix an appointment before they have an accident, dear, if that is more convenient for you," was her husband's reply, before he left.
Liz suppressed a grin, but only until Mrs Campbell followed her husband out of the room.

Then her eyes met Mr Price's, and she could not help but laugh. There was one thing for sure: They would never argue about their opinion of Mrs Campbell.

Part 13

Posted on Wednesday, 24 July 2002, at 9:18 a.m.

As Mr Campbell had had to leave them to attend to a patient, William decided to accompany Mrs Campbell and Miss Martin on their walk to Mrs Charles's.
After his talk with Miss Martin that morning, he felt a bit more self-confident than he had felt before. Certainly Miss Martin would not have asked him whether something was wrong if she had not cared about him at all. There was still hope, then ... and William was determined to use any chance he could get to be with Miss Martin.

They were walking along Main Street, and Mrs Campbell stopped at a shop window to have a look at some fabric. Liz did not think that the colour became Mrs Campbell and told her so, but all the answer she got was a sharp, "Thank you very much, Miss Martin, but I know very well what becomes me and what does not."

Then she turned to William with a sweet smile and said, "Would you be so kind as to entertain Miss Martin for a moment while I go inside to buy this cloth?"

William smiled. "With the greatest pleasure, Madam."

Mrs Campbell left them to themselves, and Liz sighed.

"I know I should not say that, Mr Price, she is your friend's wife, but sometimes I think she is the most disagreeable woman in the world."

William grinned. "She reminds me of my Aunt Norris in many ways."

"Does she? In what way?"

He laughed. "You would have to know Aunt Norris to understand what I mean, Miss Martin. Just believe me, Mrs Campbell is very much like her."

"Mr Price, how long have you known Mr Campbell?"

"Five or six years, Miss Martin. He was on the Thrush with me."

"Why did he leave the navy? I mean, there must have been some reason for that."

William sighed. "He was wounded, Miss Martin, and after that he had severe problems concerning his health. Much as he wanted to stay in the Service, it was impossible for him."

Liz thought for a moment. She felt a strong compassion for the gentleman.

"It must have been very hard for Mr Campbell."

William nodded. "It was. I remember that his friends were extremely worried about him for some time - but then he met his wife, and he recovered. So whatever I think of Mrs Campbell is of no importance. I have to be thankful to her on her husband's account. It seems that she is good for him."

"As long as Mr Campbell is happy with his wife...There is one thing that disturbs me sometimes, Mr Price, and that is the way Mrs Campbell reacts when her husband has to work. She is not very fond of his profession, did you notice that?"

"I could not help but noticing it, Miss Martin."

"She keeps complaining that he cannot be with her very often, but then I thought...what if he were still in the navy? What would she do then? Her husband would be around even less often; she would have to spend a great deal of time on her own."

William looked at her questioningly. "This sounds as if you wanted a husband who is with you all the time. You would not marry a sailor then, I suppose?"

He had said this with a teasing smile, but the question had sounded much too serious to deserve a playful answer.

"Mr Price, if I loved a man well enough to marry him, I would not care about his profession as long as he is respectable."

Mr Price's look made her feel a bit uneasy, and so Liz turned to the shop window to see if Mrs Campbell was not ready yet.
William decided to say no more; he felt that he had already said too much and that the topic was getting rather dangerous.

Finally, Mrs Campbell joined them and they continued their way to Mrs Charles's house. Mrs Charles was already waiting for them, and they spent the rest of the morning talking to Mrs Charles, telling her about the assembly.

Every once in a while, Mrs Charles cast a glance at "her dear Elizabeth" and smiled. Elizabeth was talking to Mr Price animatedly, smiling and laughing occasionally. Mrs Charles loved Elizabeth as if she was a daughter of her own, and she liked Mr Price. She would have nothing against such a match...and Elizabeth was not as indifferent to Mr Price as she had said, Mrs Charles was convinced of that.

That afternoon, Mr Searle accompanied his sister on her walk with Liz, and so Liz had the opportunity to compare the two young gentlemen in her acquaintance with each other.
Mr Searle was talking to her in his usual way, and Liz noticed something she had not noticed before.
Mr Searle was pleasant, it was true, but he talked to her in a more playful manner than Mr Price. Liz knew that she could take almost everything Mr Price said seriously; he absolutely meant what he said and usually rather kept silent than talking nonsense. This was why she appreciated talking to him so much.
Mr Searle, on the other hand, complimented and flattered her, made her laugh, but that was it. He was pleasant company, but one never knew what he was about. Still, he was so very charming...

Why does life have to be so complicated, Liz thought. I like both of them, and I do not know whom I like better...they are so very different, and still they both have their charms...what am I to do?

Then Liz resolved that she could not possibly be in love with any of them. If she were really in love, there would be no room for someone else than the beloved one in her heart.

And anyway, Liz, it is stupid to assume that you are in love after knowing each of them for one week only. Falling in love does not occur in such a short time. At least you cannot trust that feeling if it comes so soon...but then, Rob once told me that he fell in love with Harriet the first moment he saw her - and I cannot imagine anyone being more devoted to his wife than my brother.

"You seem very earnest today, Miss Martin." Mr Searle's voice roused her from her thoughts.

Liz smiled. "Am I? I am sorry, I was just thinking."

"May I inquire what you were thinking about, Miss Martin?"

Liz grinned. "No, you may not, sir." She winked at Miss Searle. "What do you say, Miss Searle, do gentlemen have to know everything about us?"

Miss Searle smiled. "No, they do not have to. You are absolutely right, Miss Martin."

On the whole, the walk was not half as pleasant as the last one had been; the weather was changing and a cold wind was coming in from the sea. Liz's companions, although they did their best to amuse her, were not as cheerful as they had been at the ball. Liz was rather glad when she got home and could settle down in the drawing room to read a book. She had not had much time for reading lately and considered this as a treat.

Outside, it had started to rain, and the sound of rain dropping on the windowpanes had something soothing. Liz enjoyed just sitting there, reading, and talking to Mrs Charles. Mrs Charles took the opportunity to tell her more about her past, and Liz was eager to hear of some tales of her father's "mischief" when he had been a boy. It awakened fond memories of a dark-haired gentleman who had always been particularly attached to his youngest daughter...sometimes Liz wished he would still be there.

He would know an answer to every problem, Liz thought. He always knew. Rob is very much like him...and I am too, or so I am told, but not in finding solutions to my problems.

Although it was raining heavily the next day, Liz longed to go out. As always when she was troubled by something, she wanted to move, she wanted to walk. She felt that she could walk all the way to Weymouth today without getting tired. The thoughts that had already troubled her the day before still occupied her mind, and there was no way escaping them.

She was standing at the window and looking out dejectedly, when Mr and Mrs Campbell were announced. Mr and Mrs Campbell...but where was Mr Price?

Come on, Liz; Mr Price is not supposed to be with his friend all the time, is he? Perhaps he has some business and joins them later? Stop it, Liz, why should Mr Price come here anyway?

Mr and Mrs Campbell entered the room, and were welcomed by Liz and Mrs Charles. Mrs Charles and Mrs Campbell were soon absorbed with some gossip or other, and Liz had the opportunity to talk to Mr Campbell.

"Mr Campbell, I hope there was no serious matter when you were called for yesterday."

"Thank God it wasn't, Miss Martin. It was only a sprained ankle."

"It must be wonderful to be able to help people in distress, Mr Campbell."

"It is, but it can also be extremely frustrating. Even the best surgeon is powerless, sometimes. These are the moments when I hate my work."

Liz felt that Mr Campbell was glad to be able to talk about his profession. Considering Mrs Campbell's attitude to his duty, she could imagine that he did not get much chance to talk with his wife about this topic.

"I guess they are, Mr Campbell. Still I think that successful situations are in the majority, are they not?"

Mr Campbell smiled. "I am thankful that it is so, Miss Martin."

"How is your friend, Mr Price? Is he not with you today?"

What a stupid question. Of course he is not with Mr Campbell, or can you see him anywhere in this room, Liz?

Mr Campbell gave her an interested look, before he answered her question.

"No, Miss Martin, Price has left us this morning. He wants to visit a friend in Lyme and will not be back until the day after tomorrow."

Liz felt a pang of disappointment. Three days without seeing Mr Price...and his going in such weather, too...somehow she was worried about Mr Price.

"It must be some urgent business that sends him to Lyme in such weather as this, Mr Campbell. He will catch a terrible cold, I am sure."

Mr Campbell laughed. "Price? That is not likely, Miss Martin. I have seen him go out in worse weather than this, and he has never fallen ill. Believe me, there are few men in better health than Price." He grinned. "From a professional point of view, he is a disappointment for me, but only from a professional point of view, and I am glad about that. In every other respect he is the best friend a man can wish for."

Liz laughed. "Still I hope he will get back to Cranston safely, Mr Campbell."

"I am sure he will, Miss Martin, don't worry." He gave her a cheerful smile.

Then his wife demanded his attention, and for a few minutes Liz was left to herself. Even though Mr Campbell had tried to reassure her, she did not feel at ease. Why did Mr Price go to Lyme in such bad weather? Travelling was bad enough in good weather, but in rain? There had to be something more to that matter than Mr Campbell was willing to tell her, and she had to find out.

Well; as soon as Mr Price comes back I will ask him. I am sure he will tell me.

Part 14

Posted on Saturday, 27 July 2002, at 4:40 p.m.

William had left Cranston early that morning, not minding the weather at all. He had written to Captain Harville before and had told him that he would come to visit him - and William always kept his promises if that was possible, especially promises he had made to his friends.

He was looking forward to meeting Harville again. In his first two years at sea, Harville had treated him like a son and had helped him overcome his fits of homesickness as well as his fits of mischief. There were many memories they could share.

Although Harville had treated William severely if it had been necessary, he had never been really unkind or unfair, even if William had, one day, accused him of being so.
He had been scolded and punished for some misbehaviour or other, all William could remember now was that he had, indeed, deserved that punishment. But in a fit of juvenile stubbornness he had shouted at the Captain to tell him that he was "just unfair", because another boy who had been with him in that particular "crime" had been treated more kindly than he had been. At least this had been his impression.

That day he had learned a valuable lesson, and Harville had taught him thoroughly: first, never to be challenged by a thirteen-year-old, and secondly he had let William find out about the real meaning of the word "fairness".

Harville had sent him away first, calmly, and coldly, and had said that he would "deal with him later". He had not spoken to William all day, but had kept an eye on him and had told one of the lieutenants to "keep Price busy so he can think of what he has done". William would have faced everything that day, he had been furious, but he had not been able to bear the way his Captain had looked at him when he had happened to pass him. There had been something in his look - disappointment, even hurt feelings. This had been worse than everything else ...seeing a man whom he admired so much treat him so unfeelingly had hurt extremely.
Several times he had tried to say that he was sorry, but the Captain had never allowed him to speak. After some time, William had feared that he had lost Harville's good will, and that was more punishment than anything else could have been.

Finally, in the evening, Harville had sent for him. When he had appeared in front of the Captain, Harville had just looked at him and had said, "Well, Price?"
Somehow that had been sufficient, William apologised for everything he had said and done, and when he was finished and dared to look at Harville again, he was relieved to see that he looked at him in the familiar, benign way.

"I just wanted to tell you one thing, Price, even if I know that you will not understand it yet. I'm responsible for everyone on this ship, and I am doing my best to treat you all well. As far as fairness is concerned, I always try to be fair, and I want you to know that. Fairness does not mean to treat everyone alike. Fairness is treating people the way they need to be treated. If I didn't think so highly of you, and did not expect so much of you, Price, I might treat you less strictly and spoil you. But you will be a good officer if you keep your mind to it, and therefore I have to do my best to make you keep your mind to it. Sykes will never be a good seaman, so he is not worth the trouble. So whenever you think that I am unfair in the future, keep that in mind. And now, off to bed, boy, there is a lot to be done tomorrow."

From that day on, William had never again thought of Captain Harville as an unjust man. On the contrary, he began to admire him for his diplomacy in dealing with his men, and always hoped to be as skilled in his profession as Captain Harville, one day.

When he had heard the news of Captain Harville's misfortune, he had been shocked. It was terrible to hear that such an excellent man as Harville had had to resign from his duty, especially because William knew that Harville was not rich, that his family had been dependent on his pay, and that he had always hoped for prize money to improve his situation. All his hopes and dreams had been shattered on the day he had been wounded, and had it not been for his family, Harville would probably have wanted to die.

William arrived in Lyme in the afternoon, and after he had taken his lodgings in one of the inns and had had something to eat, he set off in the direction of Captain Harville's house. The innkeeper had pointed out the way to him, and William was already eager to see where Harville lived.
Harville's house was rather small, but it gave William the impression of a cosy home. He was welcomed in a very cordial manner by both Captain and Mrs Harville, and the first half hour of his visit was spent in sharing memories with each other.

William also watched the way Captain and Mrs Harville were talking with each other. There was hardly a man in William's acquaintance who was so fond of his family as Captain Harville was. Even their visitor noticed the deep love these two felt for each other, and William felt envious.

Will I ever have the chance of being so happy, he thought. Miss Martin was more inclined to talk to me yesterday, and still I think she is in love with that Searle.

After they had finished talking about the past, William answered all the questions Harville had concerning his future.

"You are going to sail with Crawford on the Achilles, then?"

William was surprised. "How do you know, Captain Harville?"

"Just because I am not in the navy any more does not mean that I do not take an interest in the career of my former men, Price, and I have always had a particular interest in you."

William laughed. "Why that, Captain Harville?"

"Because I always knew that you had a great future before you, that is why."

"Captain, don't talk like that, you embarrass me. There is nothing special about me."

Harville laughed. "Very well, then. Where did you say you are staying at the moment?"

"At the moment I am staying in Cranston with my friend Campbell."

"Cranston, you said?"

"Yes, Cranston. Why are you asking?"

"I think I have heard some unpleasant news from Cranston the other day. One of the customs officers..."

"One of them was killed, yes."

"I heard that it was an accident, Price."

William gave a bitter laugh. "That is what everybody says, but it isn't true. My friend Campbell was the surgeon who was called for assistance, and he has had his suspicions."

"Has there been an inquest?"

"Of course, but the jury were...prejudiced, to say the least. I am sure it was murder, and I have reasons to believe that it had to do with smugglers' activities."

"Well, show me one place along the coast where there is no smuggling."

"You are right, and if it were only smuggling I would not bother to find out what happened. But murder is a different matter...it may sound strange, but somehow I feel that I have to know who did it."

"Was that gentleman a friend of yours?"

"No, he wasn't, I didn't even know him. But we had a few things in common - he was the same age as I am, he had a mother and a sister who depended on him... I hate the thought of not doing anything."

Harville thought for a while, then he said, "I think I know a man who could help you, if you can get him to help you, that is. He used to be a smuggler, and I am not sure if he is not still active in free trade. He got a pardon about twenty years ago, and now he is a wine merchant here in Lyme." Harville grinned. "He sells amazingly good stuff, and the prices are surprisingly inexpensive. So much for free trade. Do you want to meet him? Perhaps he knows a thing or two, even if he does not smuggle any more."

William agreed, and so they decided to go and visit this gentleman the next day.

The next morning, Harville called on William in the inn and they set off together. On their way to Mr Peyton's house, Harville told William everything he knew about this man.

"If you look at him nowadays, you won't notice that you are talking to the most notorious smuggler of these parts. There are stories about him...I can tell you, that man is a living legend. Everyone around here knows Isaac Peyton and knows some stories about him. Even I do."

William grinned. "Really? Tell me."

"One day, carrying two tubs, he ran into a senior official of the custom house. He exchanged warm greetings and put the tubs down at the officer's feet, telling him 'The excise man axed me to take these two tubs to you, and gied me two shillings for the job; but d**n him! If I had know'd they'd be so heavy, and would ha' cut my shoulder so, I'd seed unto the devil afore I'd ha' touched o'em'. Whether or not the officer believed his story I do not know, but unable to carry the tubs himself, he eventually gave Peyton a further florin to carry them back to the custom house, and went off to await their arrival while Peyton 'rested'. As soon as the officer rounded the corner, Peyton's exhaustion left him, and he effortlessly shouldered his burden and made off."

William laughed. "That's what I call cheek! Well, what happened to him?"

"Nothing, those tubs were nowhere to be found, and Peyton could not be arrested without evidence. I suppose the customs officer was not very keen on having his own mistake made public."

"I suppose so. I'm already looking forward to meeting that Mr Peyton, he seems to be a very clever man."

"Ay, so he is, and you know what? In all his smuggling career he never killed a man...or so he says."

In the meantime, they had reached a large, handsome house in one of the side streets, and Captain Harville knocked at the door.
A young maid opened and asked them to come in, and a few moments later William was introduced to the master of the house, Mr Isaac Peyton.

It was true, Mr Peyton did not look like a smuggler at all, or at least not like the general picture one had of smugglers. He was an old man, already in his seventies. His eyes, however, were sparkling like a young man's eyes, and the way he moved made William believe that Mr Peyton was still in the best possible health.

He welcomed William and Harville civilly, and offered them some wine, which was accepted by both of them.

Captain Harville did not lose much time to make Mr Peyton acquainted with the reason for their visit, and while Peyton listened, he sometimes nodded toughtfully. When he heard of what had happened in Cranston, he gave a sharp whistle, and then he addressed William.

"I suppose you know what you're doin', are you?"

"I think I do."

"Those people are not to be trifled with."

"I know, Mr Peyton. What I wanted to ask you...do you know any of the freetraders in those parts?"

"It's ben a long time ever since...no, don't think so, but I can tell ya what I think, Mr Price."

"It would be a great help if you did, Mr Peyton."

"The whole thing sounds to me as if someone has a lot to lose. Smugglers only kill if they have to...I never had to, always got out of tricky situations somehow. Sometimes there are fights with customsmen, of course, and I've often heard of a customsman bein' shot by freetraders. But beatin' someone to death...it's not a thing a smuggler would do."

"So who could have done that?"

"None of those you would expect...none of those chaps who land the cargo and bring it inland...no, it has t' be one of the gangleaders. An' believe me, you usually don't know a gangleader if ya see him. Be careful, lad, and keep your eyes open, will ya? Be careful who ya talk to, too."

"I will, thank you Mr Peyton."

That night William did not sleep very well. He had to think of Mr Peyton's warning, and tried hard to find out what he had meant with "not knowing a gangleader when seeing him". After the assembly he had to assume that Peyton was right. One thought troubled him. How many people in Cranston knew about the smugglers? And how many supported them? He had to find out where the smugglers' landing spot was, he could not defer that much longer. There would be full moon on Thursday the following week...there was no time to be lost.

Part 15

Posted on Wednesday, 31 July 2002, at 4:53 a.m.

Before William left Lyme the next morning, he went to Captain Harville's house once again, as the Captain had invited him to breakfast with him before his departure.

The two men were talking cheerfully, until the time had come to take leave. None of them had touched the topic of smuggling until that moment, but now Harville looked at William anxiously and said, "Price, promise me one thing. Take care of yourself, and do not try to be a hero. You know most heroes are dead sooner or later. Remember what Peyton said - those smugglers are not to be trifled with."

William promised his friend to take care of himself, and also promised to visit Harville again after he returned from his next journey, if that was possible.

The trip to Cranston did not take him very long; William arrived at Campbell's house in the afternoon, and decided to talk to his friend Campbell immediately.

However, this was not possible, as Campbell had left his house an hour before his arrival and had not yet returned. William listened to Mrs Campbell's lament patiently and then decided that he needed fresh air. The weather had improved in the past few hours, and so William wanted to go for his long-planned exploring walk along the coast path.

The pebble beach had raised his particular interest. The pebbles were of a white colour, so they could also be seen at night. Especially on a moonlit night...
He chose to go there to see if there were any more landmarks that might be of use for anyone who wanted to land there.
On walking along the pebble beach, he kept pondering. The beach was perfect - it was near the village and still distant enough to be safe. No one would go here at night, except those who had business here. The lagoon was a perfect hiding place for contraband - tying the barrels together and sinking them into the water until one could fetch them safely...

In the distance William could see an old chapel or church on a hill.
He grinned. A landmark, too. Well done, Price, it looks as if you've found the place.
Now all he had to do was to keep an eye on this place, but this was easier said than done.
Who would go there if it was not necessary? William sighed. Even if he had found the landing spot, the beach was several miles long, and how was he or anyone else to know where exactly the smugglers were going to land? Perhaps Campbell might be of assistance here, after all, he had lived here for some time now, so he might know some local stories.

William heard footsteps and voices approaching, and turned around. It was the young lady he had danced with at the ball, and with her was...

"Miss Martin! Miss Searle! What a coincidence to meet you here."

Miss Martin smiled at him with that radiant smile of hers...he had to resist the need to embrace her.

"Mr Price, it is good to see you are back again. Your friend told me that you were in Lyme."

"That's right, Miss Martin, I had some business there."

"Business? Mr Campbell said you were visiting a friend."

"This was the business I was referring to, Miss Martin."

"I hope you had a pleasant journey, Mr Price. I have to admit that I felt rather worried at first. The weather was not very fit for travelling."

William smiled. "I thank you for your concern, Miss Martin, but I can assure you that there was no need to be worried about me."

Then he remembered that there was another young lady present, too, and that he had better talk to her as well, if he did not want to appear rude.

"Miss Searle, we have not met since the assembly. You have had a pleasant time, I hope."

"Oh yes, I have. Life has never been so pleasant before Miss Martin arrived here, Mr Price. I cannot imagine how I managed without her."

William laughed. "I am sure Miss Martin is glad to hear that. How is your brother, Miss Searle?"

"He is fine, thank you. Why are you here in this place, Mr Price?"

"I thought that a walk might do me good, after the journey here from Lyme. Would you mind if I kept you company?"

Both ladies assured him that they did not mind in the least, and so William went with them on their way back to Cranston.

They had a pleasant conversation, but William did not get a chance to talk to Miss Martin in particular. Miss Searle was always there, and demanded a great deal of his attention.

Liz was angry. She had thought that Mr Price was her friend, but obviously she had been mistaken.

He had talked to her in his usual pleasant manner, but he had flirted with Miss Searle, had flirted with Miss Searle in her presence! How could he!

Liz, he can flirt with whomever he chooses. You have no right to be jealous!

However, jealousy was a feeling that could not be commanded by common sense. So, even if Liz knew that she had no right to feel jealous, this did not change her feelings.

What does that mean, Liz? You are not in love with him, are you? No, you are not. It is only that one shouldn't treat one's friends like that!

Besides, Liz felt that Mr Price had not told her the whole truth. He had been in Lyme, and he had visited a friend.... but there were some things he had not told her, and this annoyed Liz.

We are good friends, aren't we? So why does he not tell me everything? If there is something that bothers him I want to know! That's what friends are for! And why was he on the beach? It looked as if he was searching for something - but what? Oh, if I could only read his mind!

Liz stood by the window, looking out into the garden and playing with her necklace. Mrs Charles was watching her without saying a thing. She could tell that Elizabeth was angry, but she did not know why.

Liz decided that she would not think about Mr Price any longer, he was not worth it. Still, she could not stop thinking of him, and that annoyed her even more. Finally she turned to Mrs Charles and said, "Mrs Charles, have you ever been downright furious with one of your friends?"

Mrs Charles shook her head. "No, Elizabeth, I never was. They never gave me a reason to be so."

"I mean, when you are friends with someone, you share your thoughts with them, don't you?"

"Well, sometimes one does not, Elizabeth."

"Why not, Mrs Charles?"

"Have you ever thought of the possibility that your thoughts might trouble your friend, Elizabeth? Sometimes one keeps such thoughts for oneself, because one does not want to cause anxiety."

Liz thought for a moment. It was true...perhaps Mr Price did not tell her what he had done in Lyme because he did not want to worry her. Still...

"Perhaps one's friends could help, and how are they to help if they do not know what is the matter?"

"Elizabeth, if people need help they usually ask for it. If they do not ask for help one can assume that they do not need it."

Liz did not answer that comment. Maybe Mrs Charles was right, but she still felt hurt.

William, in the meantime, was sitting with his friend Campbell.

"So, Price, what was it like in Lyme? How is Captain Harville?"

"Oh, he is quite well, I think, and as good-humoured as he has always been."

"I'm glad to hear that. Have you spent a great deal of time together?"

"Yes, we did. Harville also introduced me to Isaac Peyton. Have you ever heard of him?"

"Not the Isaac Peyton? The smuggler? What did you want of him?"

"Can't you imagine?"

Campbell stared at his friend in disbelief. No, this could not be true...

"You didn't ask him about the smugglers hereabouts?"

"I did, but I did not get a useful answer. He said he did not know any of them, but he gave me a hint as to who might have murdered Maynard."

"A hint?"

"He said that it was not the sort of thing a smuggler would do...at least none of those men who do the work. But it could have been one of the leaders, one of those who would have a lot to lose if their business was discovered."

"Which means?"

William sighed. "As much as I hate saying this, but one of the respectable citizens of Cranston is a murderer."

"Do you have someone particular in mind?"

"Not yet, but I'm going to keep my eyes open. One more thing. I think I have found the smugglers' landing spot."

"Where?"

"The beach."

Campbell nodded. "Of course, I could have thought of it myself. What do you suggest?"

"I think now that we have some hints, we might inform Carrick. I am sure there is enough evidence to justify his taking action."

"You have no objection to Carrick any more?"

"I still have, but I cannot help it. He is the man to deal with such matters, is he not?"

"I will go and talk to him tomorrow, then. Price, promise me you will keep out of that business now. You have done what you could. Leave everything to Carrick and his men. Don't get yourself into trouble."

"If Carrick is able to solve that matter, Campbell, I will not interfere any more. I promise."

Campbell gave a sigh of relief. He had been worried about his friend, but now he knew that everything would be well. Price always kept his promises.

Part 16

Posted on Friday, 2 August 2002, at 5:24 a.m.

The next day, Liz received some more letters from home. This time it was one letter from Cathy and George, and another one from Robert, with a note from Davey Harris.

Those letters cheered her up exceedingly, and made her forget her worries for a few moments. Then the door opened and Sarah announced Mrs Campbell and Mr Price.

Liz looked up. Now she would see if Mr Price was more willing to talk with her today than he had been the day before.

"Good morning, Mrs Charles, Miss Martin! We were just going on a walk and passing your house, when Mr Price suggested that we might ask you to come along with us," Mrs Campbell said.

"Oh, I do not know,..." Mrs Charles answered. "Is it not rather cool outside?"

"Not at all," replied Mr Price. "It is a fine morning, indeed."

"What do you think, Elizabeth, shall we join them?"

Liz saw that Mr Price was looking at her...almost pleadingly...no, she would not make it THAT easy for him!

"I would very much like to, Mrs Charles, but if you would rather stay at home, I will stay here with you."

Now he looked a bit disappointed...

Never mind, Liz, it serves him right!

"I think a short walk might do me good," Mrs Charles said after some consideration.
"If you would just wait for a few minutes, so we can get ready."

"Certainly, Mrs Charles." Mr Price gave Liz a smile. There was something about the way he smiled...

Stop being silly, Liz, just get ready for that walk, will you!

When Liz rejoined the group, wearing her cloak and bonnet, she found that there had been an addition to the party. Mr and Miss Searle had arrived, and it seemed that they had had the same idea as Mr Price. So they decided to walk together, and Miss Searle proposed that they should take the path to the ruin.

No one objected. Liz liked the place very much, Mrs Campbell and Mrs Charles were eager to see the view from the hill, and William was eager to go there for some other reason. He wanted to see if there were some traces to be found...

There was one thing he did not like, though. He would not have minded going for a walk with Miss Martin and Mrs Charles, but he did not like having Mr and Miss Searle with him, too. Now Miss Martin would probably be absorbed with Mr Searle, while Miss Searle would want to talk to him all the time. Could they not have come ten minutes later, so that he had had Miss Martin all to himself - well, nearly all to himself - for a few minutes?
One could not help it, and William only hoped that the walk would not take too long, and that he would be able to bear seeing Miss Martin flirt with Mr Searle without showing too much of his feelings.

It was just as William had foreseen - Miss Searle kept him busy with her conversation, and Miss Martin was active talking and laughing with Mr Searle. The more William saw of that Mr Searle, the less he liked him. But he had to be fair - if it had not been for Miss Martin, he would probably like Searle. He was agreeable and witty, just the sort of companion one could wish for, and it was no wonder that the ladies liked him.

Finally they reached the old chapel, and the ladies admired the view.

Mr Searle addressed Mrs Campbell. "Mrs Campbell, I hope your husband is well. I haven't seen very much of him lately."

"Oh, he is very well, thank you. It is just that Mr Campbell has some business to attend to - as always - sometimes I think he has lost his interest in spending his time in my company."

Liz had heard this statement, and once again wondered why Mrs Campbell had married her husband. She looked at Mr Price to see if he had heard her, too, but he was busy talking with Miss Searle, who just told him everything she knew about the ruin. He seemed to listen to her with considerable interest.

Why do you bother, Liz? You can be absolutely certain to get nothing of his attention as long as Miss Searle is around!

Mr Searle smiled at Mrs Campbell and said, "I am sure that this is not the case, Mrs Campbell, how could a gentleman ever lose his interest in your company?"

Then Miss Searle turned towards Liz and said, "I have not told you the news yet, Miss Martin. My brother and I are planning to have a dinner party on Thursday, and I wanted to invite you and Mrs Charles."

Mrs Charles declined the invitation, but she encouraged Liz to accept it if she wanted to.

"I shall be very glad to come, Miss Searle. I am sure it will be a delightful evening."

Miss Searle beamed. "I am sure about that, too."

She turned to Mrs Campbell and said, "Of course you and your husband are invited, too, Mrs Campbell. And you, too, Mr Price."

William watched Mrs Campbell. It was obvious that she did not like being the second instead of the first one to be asked, but she was far too keen on being invited to show her feelings too much. She accepted the invitation politely, but coldly.

William, too, expressed his thanks for the invitation. It was something to look forward to ... at least if Miss Martin was not too attentive to a certain gentleman.

Thursday had arrived and Liz was getting ready for the dinner party. Mrs Campbell had offered to take her with her, and Liz had gladly accepted.
She wondered why she had seen so little of Mr Campbell and Mr Price lately, and felt hurt. Surely Mr Price paid much more attention to Miss Searle...it seemed as if he did not need Liz's friendship any more.

If he thinks he can treat me that way, I've got news for him! Just you wait, Mr Price, I'll ignore you for a while...just to show you what I can be like!

But she had to admit that ignoring someone was not much fun if one was ignored by this person, too. He'd probably not notice it.

I'll ask Sarah to help me getting ready. I need to look good tonight...perhaps he'll notice me then.

Now Liz was thoroughly angry with herself. Why did she care, anyway? Why did she think of Mr Price all the time? There were other young men as well, right? As her mother had always said, "There are a lot of mothers with handsome sons..."

Liz, this will be a wonderful evening indeed, considering the mood you are in! Pull yourself together, and get ready. If Mrs Campbell has to wait for you, she'll be in hysterics, and poor Mr Campbell has to pay the price for your lateness.

"Sarah!"

Sarah came into her room. "Yes, Miss?"

"Sarah, could you please help me with my hair? You are so much better at doing that sort of thing than I am."

"Certainly Miss."

Liz looked into the mirror and watched Sarah, while Sarah arranged her hair.

"How can one be so good at this, Sarah? How did you learn to do this so well?"

Sarah smiled. "I was always interested in it, Miss Martin. I always looked at the way the ladies did their hair, and then I tried to copy their hairstyle."

Liz sighed. "That is what I tried too, but just look at the results. When I do my hair myself, it looks like a mop. When you do my hair, it looks good. What's the difference?"

"Perhaps you get impatient if the effect does not look like you want it to be, Miss Martin. And then it is always easier to do someone else's hair instead of one's own...there, Miss Martin, I am finished. What do you think?"

Liz looked at her reflection in the mirror. It was unbelievable.

"Perfect, Sarah! You are an artist, do you know that? Actually, I think you can do miracles. Thank you very much for you help."

"You are welcome any time, Miss Martin. Is there anything more I can do for you?"

Liz shook her head. "No, thank you, Sarah. If Mr and Mrs Campbell arrive, tell them that I will be with them in a moment."

Sarah nodded, and left the room. Liz sighed. All she had to do now was go downstairs and meet the Campbells - but she would rather have stayed here.
She liked Miss Searle, and she had looked forward to the dinner party - but now she would rather have stayed at home. One could not help it - she had to go.

While she had to wait for the Campbells, Liz sat with Mrs Charles.

"Are there any interesting news from home, Elizabeth?"

"Only the letters I had lately, Mrs Charles. They are all well, as far as I know. Rob has told me that he has nearly finished his harvest work for the moment. Harriet is very fine - considering the state she is in. And my mother is well, too."

"What about Catherine and her husband?"

"I think they are as happy as can be, Mrs Charles. At least I get this impression from Cathy's letters. Sometimes George adds a few lines, but you know him, he is a busy man, so I do not hear that much of him."

They heard footsteps in the hallway, and then Sarah opened the door and announced Mr and Mrs Campbell and Mr Price.

Liz could not help but notice how handsome Mr Price looked. It was hard to be angry with someone who had such an irresistible smile.

Come on, Liz, pull yourself together, will you? Why don't you go and fall at his feet? It would add to the amusement tonight if you did.

"It is good to see that you are ready, Miss Martin. I was already afraid that we might have to wait for you," Mrs Campbell said.

"Really, Mrs Campbell? I am sorry that you should think me so rude. I do not keep people waiting if I can help it."

She glanced at Mr Price and saw that he gave her an approving look. Their eyes met, and there was some mischievous sparkle in his eyes...if he had had the chance, he might have said something...and Liz could nearly imagine what it might have been.

Mr Campbell stopped his wife by saying, "Well, if you are all ready we'd better leave, or the rest of the party will have to wait for us at Mr Searle's. Have you ever been to Mr Searle's house, Miss Martin?"

"Not yet, Mr Campbell."

"I am sure you will like it there, it is one of the biggest and most beautiful houses I have ever seen."

"I am looking forward to seeing it, Mr Campbell."

They all took leave of Mrs Charles and left. During the carriage ride to Mr Searle's house, they did not talk much, but Liz caught Mr Price looking at her more than once.

I wonder what is wrong with me, she thought. He really makes me nervous sometimes.

Continued in the next section