80A few weeks went by, and Anne was not awoken by her husband leaving her bed again during this time. She did not know whether this was because he had curbed his nocturnal activities in an attempt to mollify his wife's inquiring mind. Perhaps he was being completely truthful. Perhaps he had simply taken an occasional delivery on the shore to accommodate traders who found it easier to deliver by sea at night.
But it was one clear, cold spring night that he resumed his mysterious disappearances. She was awoken by the movement of the bed as he arose. She stayed perfectly motionless until she was sure he had left the room; then she too arose, put on her gown, and followed. He took the same path as he had on the previous occasion. He descended step-by-step through the hanging gardens. The night was eerily calm, quiet and enchantingly moonlit. The surface of the sea shimmered, and the uneven stone paths and stairs were alight with its gentle azure glow, giving Anne a good idea of where she was treading, even without a light of any sort.
The lantern carried by her husband disappeared around the corner of the sea wall, just as it had done the night she had watched him from the south tower; except this time, Anne was following closely behind, being very careful not to make a sound which would alert her husband to her presence.
She tentatively approached the edge of the wall, not long after she had last seen Lord Stradling walk around it. She stopped and slowly extended her head around the corner. The beach was empty and silent, apart from the faint sound of Stradling's footsteps crunching through the shingle and stones on the shore. There was no sign of a boat, or any other person apart from her husband. There were no traders in sight.
She waited a few moments. If she approached too soon afterwards, he would certainly hear her footsteps. The knocking, clacking sounds of the stones had ceased and Anne saw the lantern-light gradually ascending the cliff path. She could not work out where he was going; she had expected the trading to be done on the St Donats shore, but it now appeared he was going further eastwards down the coastline. She waited a few more moments, and decided to advance as she saw the light nearing the top of the cliff.
She stepped lightly forwards, beginning to make her way over the beach towards the cliff path. She treaded very gingerly, mindful of stones moving too much and making too much noise. She moved over the boulders rather than the smaller stones to achieve this. But then a sudden movement of her heel sent a hand-sized stone crashing loudly into another. She froze and held her gaze on the movement of the light going upwards along the cliff path. It had halted.
She kept absolutely still, one foot hovering precariously in front of her. She knew any move she now made would be seen by him. The light remained still, moving only slightly from side to side. Anne was sure he would see her, as the moonlight was so strong. She anxiously anticipated the downward movement of the light, yet it remained still, for what seemed like an age.
Then to her relief, it continued its ascent. She remained still until it had disappeared over the cliff top and then she continued.
When Anne reached the cliff top, she found that the light had once again disappeared. But she felt compelled to keep walking, spurred on by her niggling curiosity. The fields eastwards were separated by low stone walls, which she had to climb across in order to continue, and Anne cursed at herself when she tore a hole in her nightgown. Strange, unsettling sounds of nocturnal wildlife startled her as she passed thickets of undergrowth that lined the cliff edge and she wondered whether it would be wiser to turn back. But still, she continued.
She had wandered the cliff edge for around a mile when she heard the faint sound of voices. She halted in her tracks and listened. She recognised one of the voices as that of Lord Stradling.
The sight of a boat mast in the cove below made Anne lower herself to the floor. She crept slowly to the edge, overlooking the cove. She could not see incredibly well, but the moonlight highlighted the silhouettes of two individuals. One was her husband and the other was a slightly taller man. They talked in friendly tones and the taller man gestured to the boat. He pulled away a covering to show what appeared to be dozens of barrels in the boat, which Lord Stradling inspected. They continued their perusing of the boat's contents briefly, before Stradling turned and began his ascent again up the cliff towards her.
Anne panicked slightly and hid behind a prickly gorse bush near the cliff edge. Stradling neared her and neared her, but to her relief, passed her without any knowledge that she was there. Just when she was trying to work out a way of getting back to their bed before him, her foot slipped. Her lower body fell over the side of the cliff and she failed to grab any sturdy object to prevent the rest of her from following. She fell a few feet and landed heavily on a grassed ledge just below the cliff path.
Anne opened her eyes. Her head felt painful and strange. She lifted her hand to her temple and found blood on her fingers. She then heard a sound, the sound of hurried footsteps. She was suddenly startled by the appearance of a dark shadow hovering over her from the path above, an ogre with wild, untamed hair falling about its eyes, dressed in a long, black cloak. The darkness made it faceless, a ghost. As it flew down to her, she let out a shrill scream before her eyes drifted shut.