Free Garth of Tregillis by Henrietta Reid Page B

which I had found Emile. There was nothing to explain it except some prescience that in the future my knowledge of the secret passage would be of inestimable value to me when I was no longer Judith Westall, self-possessed and independent, but a frantic helpless creature immersed in a situation over which she had no control.
    Mrs. Kinnefer’s eyes opened wide with astonishment when she saw us approach. ‘Well, how on earth did you find him? Why, the poor child looks scared out of his wits!’ she exclaimed. She pulled Emile towards her and enveloped him in a perfunctory hug that was completely without warmth.
    Emile, however, hardly corresponded to Mrs. Kinnefer’s description. He had the same air of bland composure that he had possessed when he first arrived. None of his recent adventures seemed to have made the smallest impression on his remarkable sangfroid.
    Mrs. Kinnefer released him, evidently faintly disappointed by his lack of response. She called a passing maid with the air of authority that she could instantly assume when addressing one of her underlings. ‘Bessie, take Master Emile to the schoolroom and give him some cake and milk. Poor child,’ she said, as Bessie bore Emile away, ‘I do feel for him. So far from his family and at the mercy of that wicked, wicked child! Now that we’ve found him we must keep an eye on him, for dear knows what Mr. Garth would say if we had to get in touch with him and own up that the child was missing. The very thought makes me shudder. However, all’s well that ends well and I’m sorry to have disturbed you when you were having a good read. I often wish I could relax with a book, but I never seem to have the time. It’s one thing after another.’ She sighed resignedly and bustled away with an air of satisfaction.
    It was only too clear that Mrs. Kinnefer revelled in her position of authority. How would she feel if and when Garth Seaton took a wife? I wondered. Did she ever have forebodings that some day he might return from his travels with the news that he was bringing a bride to Tregillis? It would mean the end of her autocratic reign—a cold and bleak prospect for someone used to being in complete control of domestic affairs at Tregillis.
    I remembered with a stab of dismay that Diana’s letter must be lying on the library floor. I must replace it immediately in the book in which I had found it and return the volume to its place on the shelf.
    However, as I made my way towards the library, I was sidetracked by seeing Melinda steal through the hall door.
    Evidently she had been hiding in the grounds and awaiting developments. She looked, I thought, scared and apprehensive.
    Was she perhaps only now fully realizing the danger Emile might be in and regretting her prank?
    However, she soon disabused me of this gratifying thought. ‘I’m hungry,’ she announced, staring up at me with her strange, glassy eyes.
    ‘Do you realize,’ I said coldly, ‘that only for the fact that I remembered the secret passage, poor Emile might have died?’
    ‘No, he wouldn’t,’ she muttered sullenly. ‘There’s plenty of air there. I know: I’ve stayed in it for ages.’
    ‘Well, at any rate he might have been terrified out of his wits.
    How could you do such a horribly cruel thing to a little boy you’ve never even seen before?’
    She scuffed the slated floor with the top of her shoe. ‘I’ve heard about him,’ she said darkly. ‘Uncle Garth has gone to stay with his mother in France. They’ve a castle there with turrets and moats and torture chambers. I’d love to see it—especially the torture chambers, but he wouldn’t take me.’
    So Melinda, young as she was, was already suffering from a bad attack of jealousy concerning her beloved Uncle Garth!
    ‘Why don’t you make friends with Emile?’ I suggested. ‘He’s having something to eat now in the schoolroom. You could say you’re sorry, perhaps, and make friends with him.’
    She considered this and then