Читать книгу The Chauffeur and the Chaperon - C. N. Williamson - Страница 8

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"Are you Heer Paasma?" I inquired from my distance.

The walnut nodded.

"Do you speak English?"

Out came the pipe. "Ja, a leetle."

"We're Miss Rivers and Miss Van Buren, from England. I'm Miss Van Buren. You have heard about me, and that Captain Noble left me his motor-boat in his will."

"No, I not heerd." A dark flush slowly turned the sharp little walnut face to mahogany.

"How strange! I thought the solicitor would have written. But perhaps it wasn't necessary. Anyway, I have all the papers to prove that the boat is mine. You did know poor Captain Noble was dead, surely?"

"Ja, I hear that."

"Well, if you'll put a plank across, we'll come on board, and I'll show you my papers and explain everything."

"I come on shore," said Mr. Paasma.

"No, we would rather——"

I might have saved my breath. Mr. Paasma was Dutch, and he had made up his mind what would be best. The rest goes without saying. He seized one of the ropes, hauled the boat closer to shore, and sprang onto the bank.

There was a strange glitter in his eye. I supposed it to be the bleak glint of suspicion, and hastened to reassure the excellent man by producing my papers, pointing out paragraphs which I placed conspicuously under his nose, in our copy of Captain Noble's will, and the letters I had received from the solicitor.

"You see," I said at last, "everything is all right. You need have no hesitation in giving the boat to me."