Читать книгу The Best Wadsworth Camp Mysteries - Charles Wadsworth Camp - Страница 14

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Afterwards they gathered in the living-room of the coquina house for a moment. Morgan, before leaving, urged Molly and Anderson to return to the plantation with him at least for a few days. They were grateful, but they preferred for the present to remain alone where they were.

“We have to get our bearings again,” Anderson explained.

So Morgan left.

“At any rate I’ll stay with you tonight.” Miller suggested.

“It’s better not,” Anderson answered. “Molly and I must fight things out.”

“That’s what Jim said last night,” Molly said. “I thought it would be impossible then. “

“It’s the turning point,” Anderson went on. “If we can’t rise above this thing we’re beaten. I—I think we can fight this better alone, so for a day or two, Jim—There’s no use interfering with your plan of campaign.”

Miller nodded. Anderson followed him to the clearing.

“In a day or two,” he said as he pressed Miller’s hand, “I hope we’ll be normal again—as nearly normal as we can be after this. At least I think you’ll find us livable, and we can talk to some purpose. Good night”

“Hail me if you want me,” Miller said. “I’ll look in for just a minute tomorrow afternoon to make sure you’re all right.”

He hurried to the shore and called for Tony.

It was good to get back to the Bart again and to his lonely meal in her familiar and comfortable cabin. But he found changes on the Dart, too. Tony’s face was paler than ever, and his eyes appeared larger and wider. More than Anderson he had the air of facing an elusive but unavoidable fate. Curiously, this complete surrender of the native to abject fear cheered Miller. He found it possible to laugh.

“Forget the spooks and avoid the snakes, Tony, and you’ll be all right,” he said.

Tony turned away unconvinced. Miller himself, when he had gone to bed and lay listening to the whispers of the tide, recalled those other whispers he had fancied in the forest last night, recalled also the whispered conviction of Jake that death was waiting on the island for them.

At last he slept, and the next morning was so brilliant it was impossible not to respond to it. He scanned the dunes anxiously for the return of the girl who had become for him the real and peremptory mystery of the island. There was no sign. So in the middle of the afternoon he yielded to his overpowering curiosity and directed Tony to row him ashore.

They landed at the same point, a little below the fisherman’s anchorage.

“I probably shan’t be very long,” he said. “It’s scarcely worth while for you to row back.”

Tony’s face clouded. He pushed away and lay on his oars off shore.

Miller went to the coquina house as he had agreed with Anderson. He had intended to remain for only a few moments, but continually they urged him to stay a little longer. The night and the morning had been more difficult than they had anticipated, so he remained with them until, glancing at his watch, he was surprised to find it past five o’clock.

“I’m going over to Morgan,” he said, “and tomorrow I’m coming here to spend the night if you will have me. I don’t see any use in waiting longer. That broad view I was going to get from the Dart has failed to develop. Everything that has happened has been at close range.”

“It’s at close range here, Jim,” Anderson said. “At close range, yet impossibly far. Come ahead.”

Miller found Tony still resting on his oars off shore. He beckoned. Tony, evidently relieved at seeing him again, rowed quickly in.

“I’m going to walk to the plantation, Tony. It may be nearly dark before I get back. Perhaps your temperament would suffer less if you came with me.”

Tony shook his head.

“Not in that woods again!”

“Nonsense, Tony. I must. Will you come with me? Or maybe you’d rather rout out that fisherman for company.”

He glanced at the filthy tub. During the moment he had had his lack turned the fisherman had come on deck. Miller saw him for the first time. He stood by the rail, outlined against the sky and the yellow dunes. Boots, soiled jeans, and a blue shirt, open at the throat, clothed his great figure. Miller received an impression of steadfast, unreasoning power. For a moment forgetful of Anderson’s experience, he put his hand to his mouth and shouted.

“Hal-loo over there!”

The figure remained motionless. The eyes, fixed on the shore line, did not waver.

“Hal-loo!” Miller called again. And again he shouted. He turned angrily to Tony.

“I’ve half a mind to row out and open his ears. What do you make of him?”

Tony gave it up.

“It’s Captain’s Island,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” Miller decided, “we’ll try to find out what it is. Now are you coming with me, or do you prefer the neighbourhood of that sphinx?”

Tony glanced longingly at the remote Dart.

“No,” Miller said. “I won’t be gone long enough to make it worth while. If you went back to the boat it would be a nuisance to get you. Better come with me.”

He turned inland. Tony, after a moment’s troubled hesitation, followed quickly.

Before entering the forest Miller looked back. The grim figure had not moved. The eyes were still fixed. Miller almost doubted if the man had seen them.