Part 22 (1/2)

I had thought, seeing him in the lab, that he must have shared the experience with me, then I realised it was impossible.

”I waited with you on the site,” he told me, ”then walked with you up the hill, and followed behind you in the car. You stopped for a moment in a field above Tywardreath, near where the two roads join, then down through the village and along the side-lane to Polmear, and so back here. You were walking quite normally, rather faster, perhaps, than I would have cared to do myself. Then you struck to the right through the wood, and I came down the drive. I knew I should find you below.”

I got up from the window-seat and went to the bookshelf and took down one of the volumes of the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

”What are you looking for?” he asked.

I turned the pages until I found the reference I sought. ”The date of the Black Death,” I said, ”1348. Thirteen years after Isolda died.” I put the book back upon the shelf.

”Bubonic plague,” he observed. ”Endemic in the Far East-they've had a number of cases in Vietnam.”

”Have they?” I said. ”Well, I've just seen what it did in Tywardreath six hundred years ago.”

I went back to the window-seat and picked up the walking-stick. ”You must have wondered how I managed that last trip,” I said. ”This is how.” I unscrewed the top and showed him the small measure. He took it from me and held it upside down. It was fully drained.

”I'm sorry,” I said, ”but when I saw you sitting there below the Gratten I knew I had to do it. It was my last chance. And I'm glad I did, because now the whole thing is done with, finished. No more temptation. No more desire to lose myself in the other world. I told you Roger was free, and so am I.”

He did not answer. He was still staring at the empty measure.

”Now,” I said, ”before we put through a call to Dublin airport and ask if Vita is there, supposing you tell me what else was written in that report John Willis sent you?”