Time for Silence Read Online Free PDF Page A

guessed. I heard later that it had been built in the midfifteenth century and had been the property of the Rochère family for the past three hundred years, and that thirty years ago, when she must have been an enterprising twenty years of age, Madame Rochère realized that if she wished to keep the château she must find an income somehow. The school had seemed a good idea, and so it proved to be.
    I had learned a little about architecture because of our house at Marchlands, which was quite old, and the Denvers’ place had always interested me. Robert had unearthed a number of books for me in the library at Caddington Manor, because he knew of my interest.
    So now I recognized the conventionally Gothic style, and later I delighted in details such as the finials molded in the granite.
    “It’s ancient!” I cried. “It’s wonderful…!”
    The others were too concerned with our arrival to listen to me. We alighted and mounted the six stone steps to a door.
    There was a huge knocker on the iron-studded door, held in place by the head of a fierce-looking warrior.
    Aunt Celeste knocked, and after a pause a shutter was drawn back.
    “It is Madame Lansdon with the girls,” said Aunt Celeste.
    The door was slowly opened. A man stood there. He surveyed us and nodded, gabbled something which I could not understand and stood aside for us to enter. When we were inside, Celeste spoke to him; he nodded and disappeared.
    It was then that I had my first encounter with Madame Rochère. She had come to meet us personally. I had a notion later that this was due to the presence of the Princesse , whom she greeted with respectful formality; and after a gracious acknowledgement of Celeste, who, as the sister of Jean Pascal, was worthy of some consideration also, she turned to us.
    “And these are to be my girls,” she said.
    “That is so,” answered Celeste.
    Madame Rochère was silent for a few seconds, nodding her head as she assessed us. I was aware of Annabelinda’s attempt to look nonchalant, but even she could not quite manage this in the presence of Madame Rochère.
    She turned to Celeste and the Princesse .
    “Madame la Princesse , Madame Lansdon, you will take a little wine to refresh yourselves after the journey while the girls shall go straight to their dormitory and settle in?”
    The Princesse bowed her head graciously and Aunt Celeste said it sounded like an excellent idea.
    Madame Rochère lifted a hand and, as though by magic, a woman appeared on the stairs.
    “Ah, Mademoiselle Artois.” Madame Rochère turned to the Princesse and Celeste. “Mademoiselle Artois is my house mistress. She will take the girls. They may settle into their quarters and later be brought down to say good-bye to you before you leave. If that is what you wish, of course….”
    “That would be very acceptable,” said Celeste.
    Mademoiselle Artois was a woman in her mid-forties, I imagined. She might have seemed very severe, but after our meeting with Madame Rochère, she appeared to be comparatively mild.
    She spoke to us in English, for which we were thankful, but although she had a fair command of the language, her accent and intonation now and then left us grappling for understanding.
    She led us past the gray stone walls of the gallery, which were hung with axes and murderous-looking weapons, to the wide staircase. We followed her up to the first floor and came to a long hall in which I should have liked to pause to study the tapestry (which looked very ancient) and portraits that lined the walls.
    There were more stairs and more rooms to be passed through, for the dormitories were at the very top.
    Mademoiselle Artois addressed Annabelinda. “You should have a room of your own because you are fifteen years of age. Most girls have their own room when they are fifteen.” She turned to me. “You have thirteen years only. You will therefore share with three others…all of your age.”
    I was rather glad. There was an eeriness about