Читать книгу Sinister Island - Cecil Bernard Rutley - Страница 6

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“Well, my dear, how are you? None the worse for your fright, I hope,” said Mr. Wright, entering the breakfast room the next morning to find Dawn already seated before the coffee pot.

“Not a bit, thanks, Uncle Stan. How about you?”

“Fit as a fiddle.” The speaker helped himself to bacon and eggs and sat down facing his ward. The morning sun was pouring in through the tall windows, lighting up the big, handsome room and turning Dawn’s hair to a glory of gold. Her guardian looked at her admiringly. “You’re a plucky girl, my dear,” he went on. “Most young women would be showing some signs of strain after last night, but you look as fresh as a daisy.”

Dawn laughed.

“I feel it, Uncle Stan,” she answered.

“Good, and so you don’t think we ought to give up the quest?”

“Give up the quest!” cried Dawn aghast. “Why ever should we do that?”

“Well, it looks as though it may not be quite such a holiday cruise as we imagine, and if our friends of last night are in earnest, there may actually be a certain amount of danger.”

“Danger! You surely don’t think I’m afraid, Uncle Stan, and will let those wretched people scare me off? The map’s mine, and I’m going to stick to it through thick and thin.”

“No, I didn’t think you were afraid, Dawn, but I thought I should mention the possibilities of trouble which may lie before us now that there are other people after the map and they know we have it. And talking of the map, Dawn, don’t you think you had better let me take care of it?”

The girl shook her head.

“No, Uncle, I would, but I’ve thought of a better plan. We’ll do it up in a registered packet and post it to your bankers in New York. Then, when we get to New York, we can post it on again to a fresh address in Australia. That way it will be absolutely safe. You see, Uncle, we know absolutely nothing about our enemies except from matron’s rather vague description and the ring I saw upon the woman’s finger, so that there is nothing to prevent them following us half across the world. They may even take passages on board the Britannia, and if we carry the map about with us or keep it hidden among our luggage it will never be really safe.”

“An excellent idea, Dawn. We’ll post it to-day, and then we shall be free of further anxieties. It is pretty evident that our enemies know about the pearls, but don’t know the position of the island, otherwise why are they so desperately anxious to get hold of the map? By the way, you don’t want me to report last night’s affair to the police, do you?”

“The police! Good Heavens no, Uncle! They’d ask all sorts of awkward questions, and the whole story would come out, and too many people know about the map already. Let’s keep it dark. I’m so thankful the servants didn’t wake.”

“Good, so that’s settled. And I don’t think you need worry any more about Hank and Belle yet awhile, Dawn. They’ve made their attempt and failed, and they won’t make another so long as we are in the house.”

In this Mr. Wright proved correct. The intervening days passed without event, and on the Thursday of their departure, Dawn and her guardian motored to Southampton, and went on board the Britannia. It was the first time Dawn had been on board a really big ship, and she was delighted with her state room with its daintily curtained portholes, comfortable bed and private bathroom complete with shower. As soon as she had taken in her surroundings she went and knocked at her companion’s cabin next door.

“Come in.” Mr. Wright looked up and seeing who it was, smiled. “Hullo, my dear, satisfied?”

“Uncle, it’s wonderful, and you’re a perfect pet. I never thought we were going to travel in such luxury as this.”

“Didn’t you? Well, it won’t last all the way, you know, and as you are a prospective heiress to great riches, I thought I had better get on the right side of you while I could.”

Dawn laughed.

“You fraud. Look at your own cabin. Not doing yourself so badly, are you? I bet you were thinking of your own ease as much as mine.” She seated herself on a comfortable settee. “Whose table are we at, Uncle Stan? That’s the correct question to ask immediately one comes on board a big liner, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely, my dear, and the answer to your first question is, the captain’s.”

“The captain’s! I say, we’re honoured. I think you must be better known than I imagined.”

“I fear it has more to do with the fact that we occupy two of the best state rooms in the ship. By the way, you’re not expected to dress for dinner the first night out.”

Dawn nodded, and presently she returned to her own cabin, and having finished her unpacking, she wandered out on to the deck. They had arrived early, and she amused herself watching the passengers coming on board, and by trying to pick out among the men and women any who might possibly have been her visitors of a few nights before. But she saw no one who in the least awakened her suspicions, no woman wearing a ring adorned with a large, purple opal came within range of her eyes, and presently, as the time of departure approached, preparations for sailing attracted her attention. She was thus engaged when her guardian joined her.

“Been doing a little sleuthing, Dawn?” he asked, leaning on the rail by her side.

“Hardly sleuthing, Uncle Stan. I’ve been keeping my eyes open, but I haven’t seen any people who look in the least what I imagine Hank and Belle to look like.”

“That’s not very extraordinary, and there’s always the possibility, Dawn, that we are making a mountain out of a molehill. For all we know our adversaries may be miles away and quite unaware that we are on board this ship bound for New York; they may even have given up the chase altogether.”

And as the days passed without any suspicious happenings, or signs of undue interest in their concerns on the part of other passengers, Dawn began to think that her guardian must be right. The Britannia was not one of the fastest ships—Mr. Wright had chosen her for that very reason—and for the first few days out the weather was gloriously fine, so that only the very worst sailors were confined to their cabins. Dawn enjoyed herself thoroughly. She was easily the prettiest woman at her table, and struck up a firm friendship with Captain Strong, and when the Britannia suddenly encountered rough weather, which drove the bulk of the passengers to the refuge of their bunks, he was loud in his praises.

“You’re a fine sailor, Miss Cheverill,” he said when he encountered her one afternoon resolutely pacing the empty, heaving deck in spite of the howling wind and sheets of driving spray. “You’ve found your sea-legs very quickly.”

“I think I’ve had them since I was six years old,” laughed Dawn. “My guardian is very keen on yachting, and he brought me up that way.”

“Ah! that explains it. Well, keep on the sheltered side of the deck. It’s dirty weather and it looks like being dirtier before we get through.”

He saluted and passed on, and the girl continued her promenade. She revelled in this fierce, elemental strife, in the shriek of the wind, the sharp, vicious thumps of the great waves against the side of the ship, and the lashing spray. What a glorious adventure this was going to be, and all because she had picked up an old man and taken him to hospital. For an hour Dawn tramped the deck, exchanging a word now and then with other hardened pedestrians, but with her thoughts for the most part busy with Ben Travers and the mysterious island for which she was bound; then she turned towards her cabin and dry clothes. Her guardian was playing bridge with three other seasoned sailors, and she wondered how he was getting on. She reached her state room, and opened the door. A hot shower and a read seemed indicated, and she was about to enter when she stopped with a gasp of surprise. Crossing and criss-crossing the light carpet which covered the floor of the cabin was a string of footprints not yet dry.

Dawn’s first reaction was to run for her guardian, but she discarded the idea almost immediately, and, stepping inside, she closed the door. The daintily furnished cabin was empty, that she saw at a glance, but what about the bathroom? The girl stood listening, but no suspicious sounds reached her ears, and after a brief hesitation, she crossed the cabin on tip-toe and stood outside the communicating door. Again she listened. Was somebody in there, listening also? Dawn was aware of a strong inclination to flee, and knew that she must act at once if it was not to take possession of her, so gripping hold of the handle she gave it a resolute twist and flung open the door. Empty! The bathroom was empty, nevertheless someone had been there, she knew that because her towels were disarranged. Who? The woman who answered to the name of Belle, or her man accomplice, or someone else? Dawn glanced at the footmarks. They were too big for a woman. So it had been a man. Suddenly the girl remembered her guardian’s cabin, and without waiting to think, she ran out into the passage and flung open the adjoining door; the next instant something like a ton weight struck her jaw and everything went black.

Dawn returned to consciousness to discover herself in her guardian’s arms, with a stewardess kneeling beside her and a steward and a ship’s officer hovering around. One side of her face ached horribly, and the stewardess was holding a glass to her lips. Almost unconsciously she opened her mouth and swallowed some hot, pungent liquid which made her sit up spluttering; then she caught her guardian’s eyes fixed anxiously upon her, and managed a feeble grin.

“Must have slipped and banged my face against the side of the cabin,” she murmured. “Silly of me. Thought I’d got my sea-legs.”

Mr. Wright nodded and lifted her to her feet.

“Get her into bed, stewardess,” he ordered, “and, steward, please ask the doctor to come along. Miss Cheverill has had a nasty knock, and I’d like him to have a look at her face, though I don’t think any real harm has been done. Go along, Dawn. I’ll come and see you in a few minutes.” Then as the girl disappeared into her state room, he turned to the young officer. “Must have slipped as she said. Bit of bad luck.”

“Rather, sir. Are you sure I can’t do anything?”

“Nothing, thanks.”

The young officer saluted and departed, and a few minutes later the doctor arrived and he and Dawn’s guardian were admitted into her cabin. The stewardess had put her to bed and the doctor sat down beside her and gently fingered her face.

“H’m!” he said after a brief examination. “If you’d been a man, young lady, I’d have said that bruise was caused by another man’s fist, and a regular knock-out blow at that. You say you slipped. Well, you’ve been lucky. Nothing’s broken, but you’ll carry that bruise and have a stiff jaw for a few days. Take my tip and stay in bed till to-morrow morning. I’ll send along some ointment which may help a bit.”

The doctor departed and a few minutes later the stewardess went away, leaving Dawn and her guardian alone. For some seconds the two regarded each other in silence, then the man spoke.

“Well?” he asked.

Dawn pointed to the footmarks still faintly visible upon the carpet.

“Footprints. So that’s it. Not yours, too big, nor the stewardess’s, she’s a little woman. Look like a man’s. Hank’s?”

“Perhaps, or a pal of his. I’d been tramping the deck, and I opened the door and saw them there.” Suddenly Dawn was out of bed and kneeling before a chest of drawers. One by one she pulled them but, disclosing piles of dainty undergarments. “Look, Uncle Stan, someone’s been searching, I can tell that by the way they’ve been refolded. Uncle, they are on board, and they’ve been searching for the map.”

“Look’s like it, but how did you come to be outside my cabin door?”

Dawn got back into bed, and sat with her knees drawn up to her chin.

“I went to look. You see when I found there was no one here I suddenly thought of your cabin. I was a fool, of course. I ought to have fetched you or a steward, as it was I opened the door and walked straight into this.” She fingered her jaw gently, then managed a lop-sided grin. “Doc was more right than he thought, Uncle. A knock-out blow, I should think it was. Still, no harm’s been done, so please don’t look so grim.”

“I feel grim, Dawn, and I’m wondering what to do. It’s getting a bit thick when they start knocking you about. If only we had some clue as to who did it I’d——”

“But, Uncle Stan, don’t you realize that, whoever he was, he never intended to attack me? I butted in on him suddenly and took him by surprise, and I suppose the only way to escape detection was to knock me out. I don’t suppose they’ll try it on again.”

Her companion smiled.

“No, I don’t suppose they will, or if they do, I hope I catch them at it. You’re a very plucky girl, Dawn. So far you’ve received all the knocks. How are you feeling?”

“Stiff but smiling. I’m so glad we posted the map. By the way, Uncle, where do you think the man came from? I’m sure he’s not among the firsts.”

“Probably he and his companions are travelling second class, and he took advantage of the rough weather and empty decks to step up and start a search. Bit risky though. I wonder how he knew you were promenading the deck and I was playing bridge?”

For some seconds there was silence, then Dawn slapped her knee.

“I know, Uncle Stan. Matron said there were two men and a woman who called on her, but so far we’ve only made the acquaintance of Hank and Belle. They might be afraid to travel first class in case I recognized their voices or something else about them, but the second man ran no risk, and I bet you he’s been among us all the time. Don’t you see? He signals that the way is clear and up comes Hank. I’m sure that’s how it was done.”

“Very likely. Well, what do you intend doing, young woman? Are you going to obey doctor’s orders?”

“Me! Of course not! They’d think I’d fallen to the prevailing sickness. I’ll snooze till it’s time to dress for dinner, and then I’ll get up. And don’t you worry about me, Uncle. I’m sure this afternoon’s affair was a mistake, and most likely they’re regretting it more than I am. Anyway, it takes more than a sock on the jaw to give me cold feet, so you needn’t get them on my account. Now vamoose, and I’ll have a nap till dinner time.”

Dawn met with general commiseration over her bruised face when she made her appearance that evening. But she made light of her accident, and during pauses in the conversation, spent her time covertly examining the faces of those around her. Was one of the men eating dinner an enemy and allied with Hank and Belle to rob her of her map? From her seat she could see almost everyone in the saloon, most of them she had spoken to at one time or another, and there was not one who roused her suspicions. It was a nasty feeling, knowing that there were enemies at work who knew you but whom you did not know. Dawn shook her head as a steward offered her a dish of trifle. She realized that she was feeling more shaken than she had cared to admit, and made up her mind to go back to bed immediately after dinner. She would feel better in the morning, and affairs would seem more rosy. After all there was really no reason for worry. It was the map her rivals were concerned about, not with hitting her on the jaw, and the map was safely beyond their reach.

As Dawn had expected, a night’s rest worked wonders, and she awoke the next morning in her usual happy frame of mind, to discover that the worst of the storm had passed, and that, beyond a certain stiffness and an ugly bruise upon her jaw, she was suffering no ill effects from her mishap. Even the bruise faded quickly, and by the time she and her guardian reached New York, nothing remained which could not be hidden by the skilful application of a little powder.

“Well, what is the programme now?” asked Mr. Wright when he and Dawn were installed in a comfortable hotel without any further demonstration on the part of their unknown enemies. “Do we go on at once and endeavour to outdistance our shadowers, or do we bid them defiance and dally by the way?”

“We’ll dally by the way,” laughed Dawn. “I’m not going to let those horrible people spoil my holiday, and so long as we have the map, the pearls are safe.”

“That’s the spirit, my dear, and a little dallying will probably start our foes guessing. They won’t understand how two people in possession of a map purporting to contain the secret of a great treasure can possibly break the journey to go sight-seeing.”

“Well, I hope it gives them a pain, that’s all,” replied Dawn viciously. “I wonder what the wretches will do next.”

By a strange coincidence at that very moment, in a much lower class hotel in a much lower part of the great city, two men and a woman were seated round a table, asking the same question of each other:

“What next?”