Читать книгу Sinister Island - Cecil Bernard Rutley - Страница 5

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Three days later the old sailor was laid to rest in Fenham churchyard. Dawn and her guardian and Miss Maitland were the only people present, for it had been impossible to advertise for relatives when no one knew the dead man’s name, and the girl was very silent as she drove home by her guardian’s side.

“Cheer up, Dawn,” said her companion at last. “The poor old chap’s life could not have been very happy, penniless and starving, and without a home.”

“I know, Uncle Stan, but it seems so terribly sad. If there’s any truth in that map, then in a way he was a rich man, yet there is not a single familiar face beside him when he dies. I wish I could have done something more.”

“You did all you possibly could, my dear. By the way, have you told Miss Maitland about the map?”

“Yes, I promised I would, and she was desperately thrilled.”

“H’m! I hope she won’t talk too much. This kind of jaunt is better kept secret.”

“Not she. Besides I’ve promised to endow a bed at the hospital if we come home with a sufficient supply of loot.”

“Loot!” Dawn’s companion laughed. “There’s the predatory instinct, and I thought you were a well brought up young woman. Well, you’ll be glad to hear, my dear, that I’ve booked state rooms on the Britannia, due to sail from Southampton to New York Thursday fortnight. As we are going on this trip we may as well do the world tour, and when we have lifted the loot, as you call it, we will come home via India and the Cape. How does that suit your ladyship?”

“It’s marvellous, Uncle Stan. You are a darling. I’ll have to go up to town and get some new frocks and things.”

“I’ll need some kit myself, so we may as well go up and spend two or three nights at an hotel. Keep your head, though, my dear. Remember that one doesn’t dress for dinner on a pearling lugger.”

Dawn laughed.

“I’ll remember and I’ll try not to run wild. I’ll get slacks, and shorts, and jerseys for the lugger, and we can leave our glad-rags in Australia wherever our base may be.”

Accordingly the next three days were spent in London where, in spite of her guardian’s warning and her own good resolution, Dawn indulged in an orgy of shopping, and returned home the possessor of two large trunks full of new clothes which were duly delivered at Newland’s Grange.

“And I thought we were going on a treasure hunt,” remarked Mr. Stanford Wright, regarding the trunks with a twinkle in his eyes. “What’s the idea, Dawn? Are you going to take New York society by storm, or do you intend to try your luck at Hollywood on the way?”

Dawn looked at the trunks.

“I suppose it does seem rather a lot to a man. But, Uncle, you know what it is when a girl starts shopping. I did try, really I did, but there were so many things I needed, and others——”

“Others which you didn’t need, but couldn’t resist,” laughed her guardian. “All right, my dear, you’re welcome, and luckily the Britannia’s a big ship. By the way,” he went on hastily, “did I tell you that, while you were buying up the west end, I went and had a glance at some Admiralty charts? I thought I might learn something about your island, but it’s not marked, and no one seems to have heard of it, so it looks as though we shall have to depend entirely on your old friend’s map.”

“Well, that’s all right,” replied Dawn. “It will be far more exciting sailing by a real treasure map than by a cut and dried Admiralty chart.”

The next two days passed in preparations for their departure, and then, on the third morning, Dawn had occasion to drive into Fenham. She had already visited two shops, and was about to enter a third when Miss Maitland came along the street and stopped to speak to her.

“Good morning, Miss Cheverill,” said the matron. “I suppose you will soon be off now?”

“Yes, we are sailing next Thursday on the Britannia,” answered Dawn.

The elder woman nodded.

“Well, I hope you have an enjoyable and exciting trip. Write to me, if you like, I shall be glad to hear how you are getting on. As it happens, I should have rung you up if I hadn’t met you. Rather a strange thing happened yesterday afternoon. Two men and a woman arrived at the hospital, and asked to see me. They introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Smith and Mr. Brown, which I don’t for a moment believe were their right names, and they wanted to know if an old beggar man had recently died while in my care and been buried from the hospital. Of course I had to answer yes, and then they became very excited, and the man who called himself Mr. Brown wanted to know if there had been a mermaid tattooed on one of the dead man’s arms, and if there had been any papers in his possession.”

Miss Maitland paused to nod to a passer-by, while Dawn stared at her in consternation. Here was a complication. Suppose those people were relations, and had a right to the map? The matron read the question in the girl’s eyes and smiled.

“You need not worry, my dear. I am quite sure my visitors were not related to your old friend. The men looked distinctly—I think the right word is tough, and the woman reminded me of a bird of prey. In fact, they were a most unpleasant looking trio, so I am afraid I was guilty of prevarication. I had to admit the mermaid, but I said I had seen no papers, which was true in a way. That seemed to upset them, and they started whispering together, and presently the woman demanded to see the old man’s clothes. But they had already been burnt, and I told them so, and then they got really angry, and at last I had to call in the hall porter before I could get rid of them.”

“Poor Miss Maitland,” gasped a vastly relieved Dawn, “how perfectly horrible for you. And you really are sure they have no right to the map?”

“As sure as I can be, my dear. They were after the map, that is certain, but from what I saw of them, I should say that had they found the old man as you found him, they would cheerfully have robbed him and then left him to die, so you need have no qualms about holding on to your legacy. Besides, the old man gave it to you, and he had a right to do what he liked with his own property.”

Dawn nodded her head.

“That’s true, and I think it was jolly sporting of you, matron, to stick up for me as you did. Those people might have caused us no end of trouble, but now that they believe the map has been destroyed, we aren’t likely to see anything more of them.”

“Well, I hope so, Miss Cheverill, but I am not quite happy in my mind about the matter, and that was why I was going to ring you up. It appears that yesterday afternoon, after they had left me, those people hung about outside the hospital and questioned all the nurses who came out. Of course it is strictly forbidden to discuss patients with strangers, but I had a young probationer helping me that night, and I have discovered that she was one of those who were questioned. Unfortunately she must have seen the wallet and overheard the old man’s instructions to me, and though she denies having told those people anything, they may have wormed some information out of her without her knowledge, and therefore they may not be so ignorant of the true whereabouts of the map as we think. Still forewarned is forearmed, and for all we know my fears may be entirely imaginary.”

“Thanks for the warning, all the same, matron,” answered Dawn. “I’ll tell my guardian, and if Messrs. Brown and Smith call we’ll send them packing.” She laughed. “You know this business is getting more exciting every day. First I discover an old sailor who bequeaths me the map of an unknown treasure island, and now the villains of the piece appear, also after the map and the treasure. I wonder how it will all end.”

“Happily and profitably, I hope. Well, good-bye, Miss Cheverill. I must get on or I shall be late. And don’t forget, those people are tough.”

“I won’t forget. I’ll tell Uncle to get out the family arsenal in case they arrive. Good-bye.”

Dawn finished her shopping and drove home. There she found her guardian in the garden, and told him what had happened.

“So, the plot thickens,” he remarked when she came to an end. “I wouldn’t worry about your right to the map, Dawn. It was given to you, and I expect matron was correct in what she said about those people. But we had better be on our guard. If they have discovered that we have the map they may try to get hold of it. Would you like me to take charge of the packet?”

“No thanks, Uncle. I’ll put it where it will be quite safe. Besides, matron’s fears may be all moonshine, and quite likely those people believe it was burnt.”

Nevertheless, before she went to bed that night, Dawn carefully hid the precious map, and then promptly forgot all about Miss Maitland’s visitors, and fell asleep to dream of sun-drenched coral islands, blue seas, palm trees, and great piles of magnificent pearls. At first it was a very pleasant dream, but presently it began to assume another character. Vague noises entered into it, and strange lights began to flash in and out of the pearls, making them look like watchful, sinister eyes. Dawn stirred uneasily, and instantly all the light seemed to concentrate in one great, luminous pearl which glowed with dazzling intensity. What was happening? A low whispering had taken the place of the other noises, but the light still shone full into her face, and suddenly Dawn realized that she was awake and was gazing straight at the bulb of an electric torch held by a vague, shadowy figure standing at the foot of the bed. For several moments she lay staring at the dim form, too surprised to make a sound; then, as her lips opened to utter the scream which would bring her guardian to her help, a hand came out of the darkness and closed tightly over her mouth.

It was a woman’s hand, even in that moment of fear Dawn realized that, and she also caught sight of a huge opal ring which shone with a red, purplish glow in the torchlight; the next instant a woman’s voice spoke to her from the shadows by the bedside.

“Don’t start yapping or you’ll get hurt,” said the voice sharply. “My friend at the bottom of the bed has got a gun, and he won’t be afraid to use it, but if you behave yourself and tell us what we want to know, you’ll come to no harm. Understand? You’d better.” The hand upon her mouth relaxed its pressure. “Don’t speak too loudly now, but tell us what you’ve done with that map.”

Dawn lay thinking swiftly. She did not believe that threat about the pistol. That had been intended to frighten her, and to her astonishment, she discovered that she was not very much afraid. So matron’s warning had been justified, and what was she to do now? Somehow she must——

“Speak up! Where have you hidden that map?”

Dawn turned her head in the direction of the voice.

“What map?” she asked coolly.

“Stop stalling. We’ve no time to waste. You know what map as well as we do. The map Ben Travers gave you, that’s the map we want, and we mean to have it.”

So Ben Travers was the name of the old sailor. Aloud Dawn answered.

“Well, let me get out of bed.”

“Out of bed! What do you want to get out of bed for?”

“To get the map, of course.”

Dawn tossed aside the clothes, and without asking permission sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. In a flash a plan had come to her, and now, taking advantage of the surprise caused by her swift action and prompt acceptance of her adversaries’ demands, she suddenly lunged out with her left foot at a bedside table on which stood a china electric lamp, a number of books and a large bowl of flowers. Crash! The table overturned with a resounding thud and a loud splintering of glass and china, and in the same instant Dawn rolled over the side of the bed on to the floor.

At once pandemonium broke out.

“What are you doing, you fool?” cried an angry voice from the foot of the bed.

“It’s the girl, curse her! She’s overturned a table. Show a light, Hank. Let me get a hand on the young hussy and I’ll——”

Dawn crawled under the bed, and what the woman would have done to her she never knew, for at that moment a door slammed along the passage, and the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching her room became audible. From the man came a furious oath.

“That’s torn it, Belle!” he cried. “Come on, we must get out.”

“But you locked the door.”

“Locked the door be hanged! We shall have the whole household on us in a minute. Go on, you fool!”

The sound of hasty footsteps reached Dawn, and a moment later someone turned the handle of her door, and she heard her guardian’s voice demanding to know why it was locked and what was happening. Dawn looked towards the window and saw first one dark figure and then another appear for an instant against the night sky, before they dropped out of sight, then she crawled forth from her refuge and opened the door.

“It’s all right, Uncle Stan,” she said, as she switched on the light and admitted her guardian. “I’ve had some visitors, but no harm’s done.”

“Visitors!” Mr. Wright gazed from the slim, pyjama-clad figure to the debris of books, and broken glass, and china which littered the floor. “D’you mean that someone’s been after the map?”

“A man and a woman, Uncle Stan. The man answers to the name of Hank, and the woman is called Belle, and she has a ring mounting a big purple opal on her left hand. That ought to help us recognize her if we ever see her again. I——”

Dawn swayed, and the next instant her guardian had picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

“You lie there, my dear,” he ordered. “You’ve behaved splendidly. Did you knock this table over?”

The girl nodded her head; now that the crisis was over she was feeling more shaken than she cared to admit.

“Yes,” she answered slowly. “I had to attract your attention somehow.”

“You attracted it all right. I thought the house was falling down. It’s a wonder none of the servants were wakened. Just as well though, for we shan’t have to invent explanations.” The speaker crossed to the open window, and as he did so the sound of a motor car being started up broke the outside silence. “There go your visitors,” he remarked over his shoulder. He leaned out of the window. “Hullo, there’s a ladder leaning against the wall. So that’s how they got in.” He drew in his head and went and stood at the foot of the bed where Dawn was again curled up snugly beneath the sheets. “You’re sure you’re all right, Dawn? No hurts?”

“Not one, Uncle.”

“Not afraid?”

“I don’t think so. No, I’m sure I’m not.”

“Good. You needn’t be, those people won’t come back to-night.” He set the table on its legs again, and replaced the books. “We’ll leave the debris till the morning. You’ll have to invent a nightmare or something to explain that part of the business. Now I’ll just go down and remove the ladder and everything will be O.K.”

He left the room and a few minutes later Dawn heard the gentle scrape of the ladder being removed, followed by silence. Drowsily her eyes closed, but she was not asleep when presently the door opened again and her guardian’s voice reached her in a loud whisper.

“Dawn.”

“Yes, Uncle Stan.”

“Where did you hide the map?”

A chuckle came from the direction of the bed.

“I put it in an old envelope and left it among other letters lying on the dressing-table. It was right under their eyes all the time if they’d only had the gumption to look.”

“You’re sure it’s all right?” anxiously.

“Certain sure. It’s under my pillow at this moment.”

“Good girl.”

Dawn heard the door close and a faint chuckle receding in the distance. Uncle Stan was a real sport and as excited over their adventure as a boy. Drowsily Dawn turned over. Excited. It looked like being exciting, too. If to-night was a sample of the beginning, what would the end be like?