Suddenly someone said, “Look!” and pointed upward to the top of one of the towers. Mrs. Mannering stood there, hands on hips, laughing at us. “This is my house,” she shouted down. “If I can’t have it, then nobody can.”

“Come down here right now,” the inspector shouted back up at her. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m already going to hang,” she shouted back. “Besides I couldn’t come down if I wanted. And you can’t come up. The ground floor is on fire.”

And we could see that was true. Flames were glowing through the tower windows. We heard the sound of exploding glass and the flames licked up the side of the tower. We stood watching in horrified fascination as they came nearer and nearer to Mrs. Mannering. Suddenly we heard the sound of a motorcar, coming fast up the driveway. It was the Rolls-Royce. Jago jumped out of one door, and Darcy from the other. Both raced toward us. Darcy headed for me while Jago made a beeline for Belinda.

“Are you all right?” Darcy swept me into his arms, holding me so tightly I could hardly breathe.

“I’m fine. The housekeeper. She’s set the place on fire. She’s up there.” I pointed at the tower. “No, don’t think of trying to save her.” I held on to him tightly, knowing his tendency to do brave and stupidly heroic things. “The lower floors are on fire.”

“Belinda, are you all right?” Jago asked. “You shouldn’t have come back here, putting yourself in danger.” Then, to my surprise, as well as Belinda’s, he grabbed her arms, drew her to him and kissed her savagely. I noticed that she was not struggling to get away.

“Well,” she said, when she could finally breathe. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that from the first moment I saw you,” Jago said.

“I must say it was a lot better than the last time you kissed me, when I was fourteen.”

“I have had some practice in the meantime,” Jago said. “Come on. Get in the car. I’m taking you back to Truro where you’ll be safe.”

“Sorry, Jago, I can’t go with you,” she said.

“What you need is a man to take care of you. I’m driving you back.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not leaving Brutus here.”

“Who is Brutus?”

“My little sports car.”

“Georgie and I can drive Brutus for you,” Darcy said. “You go with Jago.”

“Darcy, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Long story. Some other time. Now you go with Jago and we’ll drive your car for you.”

“If you insist,” she said.