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It was a chilly dinner. The three men, each so much older, wiser and more capable than she, stared down their noses at this girl who presumed to manage a great vineyard. 'What are your plans for restoring Trianon?' the man from Java asked.

Taking a deep breath, she said, 'My husband Sarel already has the fields in good order.'

'Sarel?' Boeksma echoed.

'Yes,' she replied, looking straight at him. She hesitated, wondering if she dared say what was in her mind, but then she found her courage. Turning to the governor, she said with the tenderness of a young wife, 'I'm sure you've been told that Sarel's not capable. I assure you that he is. It's just that he expresses himself slowly.'

'Why isn't he on this mission?'

'Because he is very shy. And I am doing all I can to cure him of that affliction.'

'Many call him slow-witted' Boeksma said.

'Sir!' the man from Java interrupted. 'This lady . . .'

'It was a most rude remark,' the governor said, 'but I would like to know . . .'

'Three years from now, your Excellency, you will bring important visitors to Trianon ... to show them with pride what my husband has accomplished.'

During the journey back to Trianon, Geertruyd van Doorn sat very erect, staring straight ahead as if she were a wooden doll, and when she reached the welcoming arms of her little buildings she did not even glance at them. At the big house she ignored the waiting servants and ran directly to Annatjie's room, where she threw herself on the bed beside the sick woman and broke into convulsive sobs.

After her mother-in-law had comforted her, she controlled herself enough to report on her disastrous visit to the Castle: 'They humiliated me. Three great men staring at me, making fun of you and me. Forcing me to say whether or not Sarel was an imbecile. Oh, Annatjie, it was so shameful. And they mean to take Trianon from us.'

Leaping away from the bed, she stormed about the room, uttering curses she had learned in whispered sessions as a child. 'I will not let them do it. Sarel van Doorn will stand before them and face them down. He will run this vineyard to perfection, and within one month I will be pregnant with the son who will inherit Trianon.'

'That's up to God,' Annatjie said.

'I am telling God. "Make me pregnant. Give me the son I need."'

'You are blaspheming, Geertruyd.'

'I am taking God into my partnership. Annatjie, we have two months at most. They're waiting for instructions from the Lords.'

Annatjie, against her children's advice, rose to supervise fields while Geertruyd worked with Sarel: 'It all depends upon you, my dearest friend. When the men come here to inspect us, you must meet with them, and assure them that all is well.'

'Men?'

'Yes, three tall men, old, powerful.' She acted out their roles: 'The Honorable Commissioner is a gentleman, but he can be very stern. He'll ask the difficult questions. The governor... well, he knows everything. Andries Boeksma . . .' She studied how to characterize this evil, unpleasant man: 'He's a worm. But if you try to step on him, Sarel, the others will rise to protect him. Let him insult you.'

Since the ship bringing instructions from Amsterdam was tardy in arriving, the committee of inspection had to postpone its visit for more than half a year, which gave the Van Doorns added time to organize their efforts; but Andries Boeksma also had time to establish his attack, and when the long-awaited letters arrived, with instructions that their commissioner from Java must settle everything, Boeksma convened a planning session at the Castle.

'I've been keeping an eye on the vineyard,' he reported. 'Dreadful shape.'

'The wine seems to be standing up,' the governor said.

'But don't you see, your Excellency? These women are clever. That's wine that De Pre blended.'

'What will the three people do if I dispossess them?' the commissioner asked, turning to the governor.

'They own the land. We'd compensate, one way or another. Maybe a little farm that they could handle. Perhaps a gin shop here at the Cape