Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex Coast by Victor Bridges - HTML preview

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SILENCE!

Silence so complete that I could almost hear the beating of my own heart as I stared across the room at the little cone of flame which burned away steadily amongst the tumbled pile of newspapers.

Five minutes had passed since Manning had left me—five ghastly, interminable minutes that had seared themselves for ever into the very fibre of my being. Twice I had tried to close my eyes, but on each occasion the hideous fascination of that ever-shortening stump of candle had proved far stronger than my own will. I had wrenched at the ropes which held me until my wrists were bleeding, and, now, utterly exhausted and almost sick with pain, I leaned back waiting for the end.

I had no feeling of fear for myself; all my thoughts were of the horrible fate that awaited Christine if Manning succeeded in getting her on board the yacht. I tried desperately to imagine what would happen when Bobby and Campbell reached the island. As far as I was aware they knew nothing of Manning's intentions. They would probably arrive only to find the house a mass of blazing ruins, and unless by some miracle they guessed the truth, they would be powerless to interfere until it was too late.

With straining eyes I watched the little yellow flame as it began to flicker ominously in its final stages. The end was very near now. A minute—forty-five seconds——

Clang!

Merciful God! What was that?

A stifled cry broke from my lips, and, jerking my head round, I stared through the open doorway into the darkness outside.

Someone had passed through the garden gate and was hurrying towards the house. I heard a rustle on the lawn, the swift pad of footsteps across the verandah, then, breathless and dripping wet, a slim, solitary figure stumbled into the light.

It was Christine.

Dressed only in the scantiest of swimming costumes, with the water still trickling from her bare arms and legs, she stood there, white-faced and horror-struck, gazing at the sight before her.

"The candle!" I stammered wildly. "Quick, put it out!"

With a faint splutter the wick suddenly heeled over, and a thin wisp of smoke shot up into the air.

In a flash Christine seemed to realise the peril in which we stood. Almost before the words left my lips she had darted across the room, and the next moment she was stamping out the smouldering paper with her bare feet.

I remember making a queer sound which I think was intended for a protest. For an instant she leaned against the wall, trembling and sobbing from the reaction; then with a kind of pitiful blind haste she groped her way to my side and began to unfasten the handkerchief which Manning had knotted across my mouth.

"What have they done to you?" she faltered. "Oh, what have they done to you?"

I gulped down a mouthful of sorely needed fresh air.

"Christine, my darling," I whispered, "how in heaven's name did you get here?"

"I swam over from the shore," she answered breathlessly. "I landed on the saltings just opposite the garden."

"You did what?" I exclaimed. I stared at her in amazement. "You swam in the dark across the estuary?"

She nodded.

"There was no other way of reaching the island. Marie had promised to send you a message by Jimmy, but instead of keeping her word she must have given it to Dr. Manning. He came to my room and told me what he was going to do. I made up my mind then that as soon as they started I would try to follow them. I got out through the window and I managed to climb down by the creeper. I thought the tide would be too strong for me, but I didn't care either way. If I wasn't in time to help you, I just wanted to be drowned."

She stopped, and her eyes fell upon an old-fashioned American bowie knife which was hanging from the wall at the head of the stairs. With a quick movement she stepped forward, and, unhooking it from the nail, began to saw away feverishly at the ropes which fastened me to the banisters.

She had just cut through the first strand when I suddenly realised that at any moment Manning might return.

"Shut the door before you do anything else," I explained. "Lock it and bolt it top and bottom. If they guess where you are——"

I had no need to finish, for Christine hurried off at once, and, forgetting my injured shoulder in the excitement of the moment, I gave an impatient tug at the nearly severed cord. I was rewarded by such a stab of pain that before I could stop it an involuntary grunt broke from my lips.

"What is it? What's the matter? You are hurt after all!"

With a face whiter than ever, and her eyes full of concern, Christine had hastened to where I was standing.

"It's nothing much," I said. "I blundered over a bit of wire they'd stretched across the path and I rather think I've cracked my collar-bone. It will be all right as soon as I've tied it up."

She knelt down beside me, and with trembling fingers set about the task of freeing my wrists. I heard her give a sudden gasp of horror as she saw the state they were in.

"Oh, the brutes!" she sobbed. "The utter brutes! How can God allow such people as Manning to exist?"

"He won't allow it much longer," I replied grimly.

The cut ends of the rope pattered down on to the floor, and, shaking myself loose, I stepped forward, a free man. Christine dropped the knife and rose unsteadily to her feet. The next moment I was crushing her soft wet body in my uninjured arm, and pressing kisses upon her bare neck and shoulders.

"My own dear love!" I whispered. "I must have been mad ever to let you go."

I strained her to me, kissing her again and again, until the little round oilskin cap that she was wearing slipped off her head, and her slender beauty was almost hidden by a rippling torrent of dark brown hair.

At last a faint recollection of our rather precarious position began to intrude itself into my mind.

"I hate to stop kissing you, Christine," I said, "but would you mind helping me load my gun? I don't believe I can manage it with one hand."

She released herself from my embrace, and stood there like some lovely sea Naiad, her breast rising and falling and her lips slightly parted.

"Where is it—where do you keep it?" she asked.

I nodded towards a leather case which was standing up on end in the opposite corner.

"That's it," I said. "Do you think you can put it together and shove in a couple of cartridges? I want to be ready for Manning in case he comes back."

She started towards it, and for the first time the gaping aperture in the fireplace suddenly attracted her attention.

"Yes," I said, "they got the diamonds all right. Your uncle went off hugging them in a bag. I should feel quite pleased about it if I only thought he would be allowed to keep them."

Christine stepped forward to the case, and, laying it on the floor, began to unfasten the straps. In spite of her agitation there was a promptness and efficiency about all her proceedings which filled me with admiration.

"Why were you alone here?" she asked, as she snapped the barrels into their place. "Has anything happened to your naval friend?"

"Something must have happened to him," I replied, "but goodness knows what. He and Campbell, the detective, ought to have been back by eight-thirty. They may turn up any moment now, and——"

Christine rose hastily, holding the loaded gun in her hand. A delightful little tinge of colour had suddenly crept into her face.

"They mustn't find me like this," she faltered. "Could you lend me a coat or something?"

She gazed desperately round the room, as though in search of some likely garment.

"My entire wardrobe is at your service," I assured her. "You shall come upstairs and take your choice." I paused. "All the same," I added regretfully, "I shall never make you look as nice as you do now."

She blushed again, and, moving impulsively towards her, I once more slipped my arm round her waist.

"My own darling," I exclaimed, "you must be simply frozen to death; and your poor little feet——"

"No, no," she protested, "I'm quite all right, really I am. It's your shoulder we've got to think about."

"Oh, bother my shoulder!" I objected. "It only wants a little support of some sort. A scarf or a handkerchief or any old thing will do. I'll come upstairs with you, and you can fix it for me while I'm routing you out some clothes."

I tried to relieve her of the gun, but with a shake of her head she insisted upon carrying it, and side by side we mounted the staircase which led to my own bedroom. There was a box of matches upon the dressing-table, and, having leaned her weapon carefully against the wall, Christine proceeded to light the candles.

"Now we'll see what we can find," I said. "I've got any amount of kit, but I'm afraid none of it will fit you very well."

"I'm going to attend to you first," she answered, pulling open the top drawer. "Why, here's the very thing I want! This will make a beautiful sling."

She took out a large silk handkerchief, and, crossing to the washstand, picked up the wet sponge. Then with an air of almost professional gravity she came back to where I was standing.

"I learned something about accidents when I was living on the ranch," she went on. "You must let me put this under your arm before I fasten you up. That will keep the collar-bone in position until we can get it properly set."

With a neatness that would have done credit to Harley Street she rapidly completed the operation, and, feeling considerably eased as far as the pain was concerned, I moved over to the wardrobe and threw back the door.

"Here you are, dear heart!" I said. "Coats, shirts, trousers, underclothes—anything necessary to a person of taste and fashion."

She laughed softly, and, taking a step forward, peeped in at the crowded shelves.

"I expect I shall find something that will do," she said. "I only want to feel a little more respectable and just a tiny bit warmer."

"Well, help yourself to whatever you like," I observed. "I shall take the gun and go and sit on the staircase until you've finished."

"But you can't use a gun now," she exclaimed, "you've only got one arm."

"That's quite enough to shoot Manning with," I returned; and, without waiting for any further remonstrances, I picked up the weapon and walked out into the passage.

A moment's consideration convinced me that the finest strategical position was the small landing half-way down. At that point I should be practically invisible from the hall below, and at the same time I should command a full view of the front door. Crippled as I was, I could certainly lay out anyone who attempted to ascend the staircase, and with this consoling thought I made my way down, and seated myself comfortably on the first step of the next flight.

In spite of everything, an inexpressible joy was rioting through my heart. What the devil did such details as a cracked shoulder and the loss of the diamonds matter when compared with the glorious fact that I had recovered Christine? From the blackest depths of despair I had been lifted suddenly to the very heights of human felicity, and the most carefully balanced human nature is apt to be a trifle upset by such an abrupt and dazzling transition.

The one disturbing factor in the situation was the thought of de Roda. His mind had evidently given away entirely, and the memory of his haggard face and those strange burning eyes of his haunted me like a reproachful ghost. Manning and Craill were not likely to burden themselves for long with such a companion. Even if they spared his life, or what was left of it, they would almost certainly abandon him at the first possible opportunity. They would go off with the treasure, leaving him robbed and helpless in some out-of-the-way-corner of the world, and I knew what suffering it would mean to Christine unless we were able to save him from such a fate.

Until Bobby and Campbell arrived, however, there was absolutely nothing to be done.

I was staring at the door, and asking myself for the tenth time what could have happened to them, when a thundering rap on the knocker nearly made me jump from my seat. With an instinctive movement I thrust the barrel of my gun through the banisters.

"Who's that?" I called out.

"Who the blazes d'you think it is?" came the cheery answer.

It was the one voice in the world that I was longing to hear, and, scrambling to my feet, I plunged recklessly down the staircase. The next moment the door was open, and two stalwart figures, clad from head to feet in glistening oilskins, stepped forward into the light.

"We're very late," began Campbell, "but——"

The sentence died on his lips, and with a sudden sniff he stood gazing first at me and then at the tumbled heap of logs and furniture on the further side of the hall.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Bobby. "What have you been doing? Playing football?"

I looked at them both, and for the life of me I could not help laughing.

"You were quite correct about the diamonds, Bobby," I said. "Manning found them without the least difficulty."

I pointed to the fireplace, and with a queer exclamation Campbell strode across the room and peered into the recess.

"Are you serious, man?" he demanded. "D'ye mean to say he's got them?"

"Yes," I said, "he's got them all right, and it's only by the mercy of God and her own pluck that he hasn't got Christine as well."

"When did this happen?"

Campbell shot the question at me so savagely that it sounded like the bark of a dog.

"Twenty minutes ago," I said.

"And where is he now?" This latter from Bobby.

"Unless he's mad," I replied, "he's probably half a mile down the estuary on his way to Rotterdam."

There was a moment of pregnant silence.

"So it was their launch we saw," observed Bobby coolly. "I thought it must be."

Campbell closed the door in the grate with a vicious swing, and came swiftly back to where we were standing.

"Let us have the facts, Mr. Dryden, just the bare facts and nothing more." He caught hold of a chair and thrust it towards me.

"Better sit down, man," he added in a gentler voice. "You're looking as if a rest would do you good."

I took his advice, accepting at the same time the somewhat battered silver flask which Bobby lugged out hastily from an inside pocket. It was full of neat brandy, and, having gulped down a generous mouthful, I proceeded to give them a compressed but faithful description of the evening's entertainment. The whole recital only occupied a short while, for in spite of its amazing nature neither of them attempted to interrupt me.

"So you see what comes of not keeping your appointments, Robert," I finished. "The diamonds have gone; here am I with a cracked collar-bone, and——"

A sudden sound attracted our attention, and we all three turned round abruptly. Christine was standing at the head of the staircase, with her hand on the banister. Dressed in an old sailing jersey of mine, with a pair of white flannel trousers rolled up over her bare feet and ankles, she presented such a delightfully unexpected picture that for perhaps a couple of seconds none of us moved or spoke.

"Let me introduce you," I said. "Christine, this is Bobby, and this is Inspector Campbell. I have just been telling them how you saved my life."

She came down the staircase, and with a simultaneous movement both my companions started forward to meet her. Bobby, however, arrived first.

"Put it there," he exclaimed, burying her slender hand in his huge brown fist. "I told Jack he'd got a prize-packet, and, by God! it's the truth."

Campbell's greeting was a shade more formal

"You're a very gallant young lady, miss, and I'm proud and honoured to make your acquaintance."

With shining eyes Christine looked from one to the other of them.

"I knew that you wouldn't fail us," she said. Then, coming towards me, she added eagerly: "But what are we waiting for? Why don't we start at once?"

I got up from my chair.

"Christine's right," I cried. "How about your launch, Bobby? Has anything gone wrong with her?"

"Gone wrong with her!" he echoed indignantly. "Of course it hasn't."

"Then why were you late?" I demanded.

"I was kept for an hour at that cursed office. There was some Admiralty business that had to be attended to."

Christine turned to him, her face alight with excitement.

"We have still time." she said. "If we can catch them up before they get to Holland——"

She was interrupted by Campbell.

"She's talking sense, the young lady," he exclaimed. "They can't be very far ahead of us, and there's twenty thousand pounds reward if we get the stones."

"It's my uncle's life I'm thinking of," declared Christine passionately.

Campbell made an obvious effort to appear sympathetic.

"Never fear, miss," he rejoined. "We'll bring him back to you and the diamonds as well."

"I am coming too," said Christine quietly.

The Inspector stared at her in dismay.

"But, my dear young lady——" he began.

"You may as well save your breath, Campbell," I remarked. "If three hundred yards of water can't stop Miss de Roda——"

"Why the blazes shouldn't she come?" demanded Bobby indignantly. "She's got more pluck and grit than all the rest of us put together."

"Have it your own way," returned Campbell. "I'm thinking there'll be some bloody work before we get the bracelets on Dr. Manning, but if you choose to run the risk—" He broke off with a shrug of his shoulders, and Bobby stepped forward, glancing down at Christine's bare feet.

"Haven't you got any shoes?" he asked. "You can't go through the shrubbery like that."

"Yes, I can," she replied. "I've done it already."

"Well, I'm hanged if you'll do it again," he retorted. "You're all cut about and bleeding as it is. You hop up on my back like a sensible girl."

He stooped down, and, without making any fuss or protest, Christine at once accepted the proffered lift.

Campbell's grim eyes watched her appreciatively.

"You stick close to me, Commander," he said. "I'll go ahead of you with the light, and then you can see where you're putting your feet. I wouldn't have you drop that lass, not for a twenty pound note."

He produced an electric torch from his pocket, and switching on the current, led the way out into the garden. Bobby followed, with Christine on his back, and, just waiting to close the door, I hurried after them and ranged myself alongside of Campbell.

There was very little mist left, and the moon, although occasionally obscured by clouds, was now shining brightly. We passed through the iron gate and entered the shrubbery, where I showed them the broken wire which had been the cause of my downfall. Then, step by step, we moved cautiously forward along the winding path, until a glimmer of light in front of us showed that the trees were coming to an end.

As we emerged on to the saltings Christine slipped lightly to her feet.

We could see the launch lying out in the tideway, and a dark figure, silhouetted sharply against the water, standing on guard over a small dinghy.

"There's Jenkins!" said Bobby, in a relieved whisper.

At the sound of his voice the sailor wheeled round quickly; and then, seeing us advancing across the grass, drew himself up to the salute.

"Anything happened?" enquired Bobby.

"All quiet, sir," came the curt answer.

"In you get," continued Bobby, motioning us towards the dinghy.

He turned to Jenkins, who was moving away to unhitch the painter.

"We've got to catch that launch, Jenkins," he said, "the one we saw coming out from the opposite shore. She's making for Rotterdam, and no matter if we break the blasted engines we're going to overhaul her before she gets there."

"Very good, sir," returned Jenkins indifferently.

He waited until we had scrambled in, and then, unfastening the rope, took his place at the oars. Two or three strokes brought us alongside, where Bobby held the boat steady while we clambered on board over the low iron railing.

I shepherded Christine and Campbell to the cockpit, and, leaving them there, lent what assistance I could to the others in the task of getting under way.

Within five minutes of our feet touching the deck the anchor was hauled in, and we were heading out into the open estuary, with the black water rippling past our stern.

Bobby, who had taken the wheel, signalled to me to come aft.

"You'll find a pair of night glasses in the cabin," he observed. "You'd better go up into the bows and keep a look-out."

I nodded. "If you've got such a thing as a spare gun," I said, "I'll borrow that too."

"There are a couple of Webleys about somewhere," he replied. "Ask Jenkins for them and give the other one to Campbell."

I dropped down the narrow hatch, and, having discovered the glasses, made my way forward to where Jenkins was busy with the engines. He left them for a moment, to reappear with a brace of useful-looking revolvers, and thus equipped I crawled back to the cockpit.

I found Christine and the Inspector sitting side by side, apparently on the most friendly terms.

"Here you are, Campbell," I said, offering him his choice. "I promised you a bit of shooting, and the odds are that you'll get it."

With a significant gesture the detective tapped his hip.

"Not for me, thank you," he replied. "If Dr. Manning wants to argue I've got an old friend here who'll do all the talking that's necessary."

Christine stretched out her hand.

"I'll take the other one," she announced.

Campbell made an attempt to interfere, but he was too late to be effective.

"You needn't worry about me," said Christine reassuringly. "I know how to use a revolver."

"I'm not surprised to hear it, miss," was the answer. "All the same, if it comes to a shooting match, the proper place for you is in the cabin."

"He's right, Christine," I added. "For heaven's sake keep under cover when we run alongside."

She looked up at me eagerly.

"You think we shall catch them, then?"

"Of course we shall," I answered. "It's not likely that they can do more than twenty, and Bobby can knock nearly forty out of this old jigger." I squeezed her hand comfortingly in the darkness.

"I'm going up forward now to keep a look-out for them," I continued. "As soon as you hear me let off a yell you'll know that they're in sight."

With surprising tact Campbell turned away his head, and, having taken full advantage of the opportunity, I swung myself up on to the deck and started off in the direction of the bows.

We were now racing through the water at a tremendous speed, the whole frail shell quivering and rocking beneath the powerful beat of the engine. On either side a great rolling wave curved away from the ship's stern, and behind us a broad wake of white foam gleamed and tossed in the fitful light of the moon.

I crept forward to the end of the deck, and, crouching down in the angle of the railing, stared long and steadily through my glasses.

As there was no sign of our quarry it was clear that she was already round the point. Manning had doubtless seen Bobby's launch returning up the estuary and had wasted no time in getting away from "The Laurels" directly he had discovered Christine's flight. At the lowest computation he must now be at least six miles ahead of us. Provided the moonlight held, however, he would still be in sight by the time he reached the bar, and I glanced anxiously at heavy masses of cloud which were gathering ominously from the south-east.

On we went, the water becoming rougher every minute as we forced our way into the trough of the incoming tide.

Bit by bit the coast opened out on our right, until at last we were almost opposite the big clump of trees which marks the extreme end of the southern shore.

Clutching the rail to steady myself, I once more raised my glasses. Then, in a lather of spray and foam, we suddenly shot out into full view of the sea, and at the same moment a wild, involuntary shout broke from my lips.

There, not half a mile ahead of us, was the launch. She was lying broadside on under the full light of the moon, and one glance was sufficient to show me she had broken down. Even at that distance I could make out two figures working frantically at the engines and another huddled shape in the bows.

"We've got 'em!" roared Bobby, above the throb of the pistons.

He spun over the wheel, and, swinging round like a greyhound on the trail, we leaped seaward straight for our helpless prey.

I found Campbell standing beside me, a revolver gripped in his hand.

"If there's any sign of trouble," he said quietly, "shoot at once. You keep your eye on Craill and I'll look after Manning."

I had rather it had been the other way on, but there was no time for arguing.

Even as he spoke I saw Manning fling down his useless spanner, and, wiping his hands coolly with a piece of cotton waste, step up into the stern. Craill followed, his evil, scowling face in strange contrast to the smiling calm of the other.

Slackening speed at just the right moment, Bobby brought us alongside with masterly precision.

Campbell leaned forward, his eyes fixed grimly on the pair of them.

"It's no use, doctor," he said, "your luck's out this time."

With a ghastly sound, half-way between a sob and a scream, the gaunt figure of de Roda rose suddenly from the deck. A torrent of Spanish curses burst from his throat, and, dropping the bag of diamonds which he was still holding, he staggered to the side, shaking his fists at us in a frenzy of maniacal rage.

I heard a low cry of anguish beside me, and, as I half turned round, I saw Manning and Craill whip out their revolvers.

I think we must all have fired simultaneously. The only thing I actually remember is a blinding crash in my head as I pitched forward against the rails.

* * * * *

For a little while I thought that I was still dreaming. Then the low murmur of voices became so persistent that at last, with a tremendous effort, I managed to open my eyes.

"What's that?" I demanded.

There was the scrape of a chair, and the next moment Bobby and Christine were standing beside the bed.

"It's all right, old lad," said the former soothingly. "We're both here."

I looked up in bewilderment. I had a vague feeling that I was back in my cabin on the Neptune and that somehow or other Bobby ought to be Ross.

"Some blighter pushed me into the dock," I said irritably.

Then, with the same startling abruptness as before, a wave of memory surged through my aching brain.

"Good Lord!" I cried, starting up. "Where am I? What's happened?"

Christine sat down beside me, and very tenderly took my hand in hers.

"You are back on the island, dear, in your own room. There's nothing to be anxious about or worried over. It's all finished, and we are just here together—you and I and Bobby."

I let my head sink back on the pillows.

"I remember now," I said. "I stopped a bullet, didn't I? I've a sort of recollection of seeing a lot of stars, and after that everything's a blank."

Bobby seated himself on the other side of my couch.

"This is splendid," he remarked. "You'll be asking for a whisky and soda before we know where we are."

Christine leaned forward and rearranged the pillows.

"Tell me," she whispered, "is your head hurting you very much?"

I put my hand to my forehead and found it encircled by a wet bandage.

"It's aching a bit," I admitted. "What's the damage? Anything serious?"

"Well, it was rather a close shave," said Bobby drily. "Manning's bullet ripped along the side of your skull and knocked you out as clean as a whistle. A devilish good shot—under the circumstances."

There was a moment's pause.

"Go on, Robert," I said, "you're just getting interesting."

Christine made a faint movement of protest.

"The doctor will be here in a minute. Hadn't we better wait?"

"No, no," I protested. "I must hear what happened."

She glanced across at Bobby.

"Very well, then," she said quietly, "you tell him."

"I don't know if Manning saw you fall," continued Bobby, "but if so it was the last thing he did see on this earth. We all fired directly he raised his hand. He got three bullets, one from Christine, one from Campbell, and one from me. It will be a very interesting point as to which of us killed him."

"And Craill?" I asked.

"You laid Craill out all right. At the present moment he's in the Pen Mill Police Station nursing a sick elbow."

For an instant I hesitated. Christine must have guessed my unspoken question, for when I looked up at her her eyes were wet with tears.

"We found my uncle lying dead on the deck," she whispered. "Dr. Ross had always told me that any great shock or excitement——"

Her voice faltered, and, breaking into a pitiful little sob, she buried her face in her hands.

"My poor darling," I said hoarsely. "I'd have given anything in the world——"

With a brave effort she raised her head and brushed away the tears which were running down her cheeks.

"I know," she said, "I know how you feel. I can't help crying, it's all so sad and terrible, but even if it were possible I don't think I wo