He thought she started a little at that name, but she said nothing, and he asked, "Do you know the town?" "It's not a town," she answered slowly. "Only a tiny village, lying on the edge of a great moor. Yes, I know Keregnac." She picked up a bit of driftwood and began to draw idle patterns in the sand. "I don't think you will learn much there. The village is very old, and is now almost dead." "But," he said, "I don't have to worry about that now, do I?" "How do you mean?" "You, Shairn. You know about my family, my race. I don't have to depend on Keregnac. You'll tell me." She flung down the bit of driftwood. "Will I?" "You said last night--" "I don't remember what I said. And anyway, one says many things at night that sound foolish in the daytime." She stood up. "Perhaps Kerrel was right." "About what?" "About you. He made quite a scene when I joined him again. He said a number of things, and some of them were true." "Such as what?" asked Trehearne evenly. "Such as that heredity has played a rather cruel trick on you, and that you're better off to know nothing about your ancestry. Get me my robe, Michael, I must go." But he had reached out and caught her wrist, and his grip was not gentle. "You can't do that," he said. "You can't refuse to tell me now." "Oh," she said softly, "but I can. And I do." "Listen," said Trehearne. "I've come a long way, and I've been through a lot. You're a beautiful woman, and I suppose you have a right to your whims, but not about this." She looked down at his hand that was locked so tight around her wrist, and then up at him again, and her eyes were bright and very hot. "Is that your idea of persuasion?" "Are you going to tell me?" "No." She showed him her teeth, silently, in a catlike smile. "Kerrel is waiting for me." "Let him wait." "But he won't. We're leaving St. Malo today, and I assure you he won't go without me." He dropped her wrist. "I'll follow you." Her eyes were blazing. "That will be a long way." "Brittany is not so large." "Did I say I live in Brittany?" She caught up the robe and flung it around her shoulders, and then she said, "All right, Michael, follow me. I'd like that. Follow me as far as you can!" She left him, going swiftly over the tumbled rocks. Trehearne watched her until she was out of sight, not moving from where he stood. After a long while his gaze was drawn to the sand and the patterns that Shairn had traced there. Amid the aimless, rambling lines a word stood out in large clear letters. KEREGNAC. THREE A hired car and driver took Trehearne, for an exorbitant price, to Keregnac. On the first day they had roads, and made excellent time. On the second the tiny Fiat labored in agony along rutted cart tracks. The sea was far behind them, and the driver complained incessantly of the mad desires of Americans. Why should anyone wish to go to Keregnac, a place that even the Bretons had forgotten?