“It is a beautiful name, Lydia. I always liked the Lydians. They were an ancient, gracious people, with beautiful art and an artistic approach to life. For you, I shall reestablish the temple of Isis here in this cold, remote island”—by which Alice assumed she meant England—“and gather young women from all over the world to study the ancient sciences we knew. You shall be the first among them. I see great power in you, as in your mother. Does this please you, Helen? Would you like this for your daughter, as for yourself?”
“Yes, Tera,” her mother had replied. “It is what I have wanted all my life—to experience true power, rather than the shadow of it. I want Lydia to have that as well.”
Queen Tera nodded. “Good. Now let us plan the conquest of this country. When it is in my power, as Egypt once was—although foolishly I gave that power to my husband and then my daughter, who destroyed my homeland—then we shall conquer the barbaric countries, this France and Germany of yours. After that, we shall bring the ancient civilizations around the Mediterranean and in Africa under our sway. And this new continent of America, it intrigues me. Eventually it too shall bow down to us.”
“Won’t a lot of people die, with all that conquering?” Alice had ventured to ask.
“People always die in war, child,” Queen Tera had answered. “It is the way of the world. Now go and do whatever children do for amusement in this new era. We three must make our plans.”
Bast meowed more urgently, bringing Alice out of her reverie. Yes, she would need to feed the cat, and not just the cat. But first, she must determine the whereabouts of Mrs. Polgarth—she did not want that woman to see what she was about to do.
What was Mrs. Polgarth, if not exactly a housekeeper? The keepkeeper? She came in every morning from Perranuthnoe on the milk and egg wagon to do the cleaning, and walked back to town after she was done for the day, so she was really more of a charwoman than a housekeeper—she did not have the dignity or authority of Mrs. Poole. Since they had arrived, she had been required to cook as well, which she grumbled about continually. Alice, with nothing else to do, had started helping her.
“You’re a useful body,” Mrs. Polgarth had said. “Unlike those fine ladies up there, working in the study all day. That Egyptian lady Miss Trelawny has visiting—she’s so small, like a girl of fifteen although she’s lost her hair so she can’t be young. She’s fifty if she’s a day. But somehow, she frightens me. I think it’s her eyes! They seem as old as time itself.”
Alice walked out onto the landing while Bast wove around her ankles. She could hear Mrs. Polgarth in the hall below, singing something—probably a traditional Cornish ballad—while she swept the stairs.
BEATRICE: Gilbert and Sullivan. Mrs. Polgarth has a passion for light opera and regularly goes to productions in Truro.
CATHERINE: How do you always know these trivial things about people?
BEATRICE: They are not trivial, and because I ask.
“Come on,” Alice said to the black cat. “You know where I’m going, don’t you?” She picked up the blanket she had folded neatly that morning from the chair where she had placed it. That, a rather uncomfortable iron bed, and a washstand were the only furniture in her room.
Bast did indeed know, because the cat preceded her down the stone staircase to the ground floor. “Good morning, my dear,” Mrs. Polgarth called out. “I’m doing sweeping and dusting. Do you need me to find you something to eat, or will you be all right by yourself?” She had a singsong accent, more pleasant to the ear than the harsh tones of London, although Alice sometimes found it hard to understand.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Polgarth,” she said. “I know where everything is.” It would be easier if the housekeeper was not there.
In the great stone kitchen, with its enormous fireplace and small iron stove, she found the bottle of milk and a small jug of cream that Mrs. Polgarth had brought that morning. She poured some of the cream into a bowl for Bast. Then she began to gather what she could—the end of a loaf of brown bread, some soft cheese, and an apple. When she was halfway through spreading the cheese on one slice, Mrs. Polgarth came in with the broom. Alice, startled to see her, almost dropped the knife.
“I’m almost done with the first floor, love. And the second floor won’t take long. The hard part is the professor’s study, and now that Miss Trelawny is in there all the time with your mum and that foreign lady, I can’t do the room as it ought to be done anyway. I have time to make you a proper sandwich if you like. Was breakfast not enough for you? I can make a bigger pot of porridge tomorrow, or perhaps you’d prefer something more substantial? I can fry up some eggs and pilchards. You’re such a slip of a thing. Go on, take whatever you’d like, it will put some meat on your bones!”
“I thought I would make a picnic for myself,” said Alice, with relief that Mrs. Polgarth had jumped to the wrong conclusion. “My mother and Miss Trelawny are so busy they don’t have time for me. So I thought I would explore the castle. You know, the ruined part.”
“That’s a good idea—children should be outdoors until dusk, my gran always used to say. But bread and cheese is not enough of a meal for a growing girl. Here, take one of these buns—we make them special here in Cornwall. They’re yellow from saffron, and stuffed with currants. You probably haven’t seen anything like this, coming from the big city. I made a batch for tea later today—not that the ladies upstairs eat much. And Miss Tera, the Egyptian lady, eats least of all! Hardly anything touched on her plate… I’ll put it all in a basket of some sort for you, shall I? Or here, take my marketing bag. That will be easier to carry. I do wish there was another child here for you to play with. It’s a gloomy old place, ain’t it?”
If Mrs. Polgarth had known the plot being hatched upstairs, how shocked she would have been! Could Alice ask Mrs. Polgarth to help her in some way? But how? If she told Mrs. Polgarth what was really going on, that Miss Trelawny and her houseguests were planning to kidnap the Queen and conquer England, the housekeeper would not believe her. Even if she did, what could Mrs. Polgarth do? Alice imagined her walking into the local police station and telling the constable on duty that the resurrected mummy of an ancient Egyptian queen was planning to kidnap Queen Victoria and take over the British Empire. It would never work. No, there was no one here who could help her. She would have to rely on herself.
She walked out the kitchen door, which led to what had probably once been a garden but was now overgrown with weeds. Turning right, she followed the stone wall of the keep. The ruins of the old castle were surrounded by the moat she had seen yesterday. Walking beside it, she could see the weeds growing in the mud at its bottom—nettles, small purple thistles, the white umbels of wild carrot. It was pretty but forbidding. At least if there had been a proper moat, Alice could have swum across it! But there was no way across that tangle of vegetation. She imagined there were probably snakes slithering around down there, and frogs hopping about on the damp bottom. She walked along the wall and turned a corner. On that side, hawthorns and blackberry bushes grew over the ruins and close to the wall of the keep. Yesterday, underneath a particularly prickly patch, she had discovered a small window. It was low down, close to the ground, and covered with bars.