diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-0.txt | 6104 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-0.zip | bin | 113633 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-h.zip | bin | 1307171 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-h/69322-h.htm | 8224 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 1180081 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69322-h/images/i_title.jpg | bin | 5030 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 14328 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..99f7f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69322 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69322) diff --git a/old/69322-0.txt b/old/69322-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e795f33..0000000 --- a/old/69322-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6104 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The leading lady, by Geraldine Bonner - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The leading lady - -Author: Geraldine Bonner - -Release Date: November 9, 2022 [eBook #69322] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by University of California - libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEADING LADY *** - - - - - -THE LEADING LADY - - - - - _The_ - LEADING LADY - - _By_ - GERALDINE BONNER - - AUTHOR OF - _To-morrow’s Tangle, The Pioneer, - Rich Men’s Children, The - Book of Evelyn_ - - INDIANAPOLIS - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1926 - BY THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY - - - _Printed in the United States of America_ - - - PRINTED AND BOUND - BY BRAUNWORTH & CO., INC. - BROOKLYN, NEW YORK - - - - - _The_ - LEADING LADY - - - - -_PROLOGUE_ - - -ONE of the morning trains that tap the little towns along the Sound ran -into the Grand Central Depot. It was very hot in the lower levels of -the station and the passengers, few in number--for it was midsummer and -people were going out of town, not coming in--filed stragglingly up the -long platform to the exit. One of them was a girl, fair and young, with -those distinctive attributes of good looks and style that drew men’s -eyes to her face and women’s to her clothes. - -People watched her as she followed the porter carrying her suit-case, -noting the lithe grace of her movements, her delicate slimness, -the froth of blonde hair that curled out under the brim of her -hat. She appeared oblivious to the interest she aroused and this -indifference had once been natural, for to be looked at and admired -had been her normal right and become a stale experience. Now it was -assumed, an armor under which she sought protection, hid herself from -morbid curiosity and eagerly observing eyes. To be pointed out as -Sybil Saunders, the actress, was a very different thing from being -pointed out as Sybil Saunders, the fiancée of James Dallas of the -Dallas-Parkinson case. - -The Dallas-Parkinson case had been a sensation three months back. James -Dallas, a well-known actor, had killed Homer Parkinson during a quarrel -in a man’s club, struck him on the head with a brass candlestick, -and fled before the horrified onlookers could collect their senses. -Dallas, a man of excellent character, had had many friends who claimed -mitigating circumstances--Parkinson, drunk and brutal, had provoked -the assault. But the Parkinson clan, new-rich oil people, breathing -vengeance, had risen to the cause of their kinsman, poured out money -in an effort to bring the fugitive to justice, and offered a reward -of ten thousand dollars for his arrest. Of course Sybil Saunders had -figured in the investigation, she was the betrothed of the murderer, -their marriage had been at hand. She had gone through hours of -questioning, relentless grilling, and had steadily maintained her -ignorance of Dallas’ whereabouts; from the night of his disappearance -she had heard nothing from him and knew nothing of him. The Parkinsons -did not believe her statement, the police were uncertain. - -As she walked toward the exit she carried a newspaper in her hand. -Other people in the train had left theirs in their seats, but she, -after a glance at the head-lines, had folded hers and laid it in her -lap. Three seats behind her on the opposite side of the aisle she -had noticed a man--had met his eyes as her own swept back carelessly -over the car--and it was then that she had laid the paper down and -looked out of the window. Under the light film of rouge on her cheeks -a natural color had arisen. She had known he would be there but was -startled to find him so close. - -Now as she moved across the shining spaciousness of the lower-level -waiting-room she stole a quick glance backward. He was following, -mounting the incline. It was the man who had gone up with her on -Friday. She had been out of town several times lately on week-end -visits and one of them was always on the train. Sometimes it was a new -one but she had become familiar with the type. - -She knew he was behind her at the taxi stand as she gave the address -in a loud voice. But he probably would disappear now; in the city they -generally let her alone. It was only when she left town that they were -always on hand, keeping their eye on her, ready to follow if she should -try to slip away. - -The taxi rolled out into the sweltering heat; incandescent streets -roaring under the blinding glare of the sun. Her destination was the -office of Stroud & Walberg, theatrical managers, and here in his -opulent office set in aerial heights above the sweating city, Mr. -Walberg offered her a friendly hand and a chair. Mr. Walberg, a kindly -Hebrew, was kindlier than ever to this particular visitor. He was sorry -for her--as who in his profession was not--and wanted to help her along -and here was his proposition: - -A committee of ladies, a high-society bunch summering up in -Maine, wanted to give a play for charity. They’d got the chance -to do something out of the ordinary, for Thomas N. Driscoll, the -spool-cotton magnate who was in California, had offered them his -place up there--Gull Island was the name--for an outdoor performance. -Mr. Walberg, who had never seen it, enlarged on its attractions as -if he had been trying to make a sale--a whole island, just off the -mainland, magnificent mansion to be turned over to the company, -housekeeper installed. The crowning touch was an open-air amphitheater, -old Roman effect, tiers of stone seats, said to be one of the most -artistic things of its kind in the country. The ladies had wanted a -classic which Mr. Walberg opined was all right seeing the show was -for charity, and people could stand being bored for a worthy object. -_Twelfth Night_ was the play they had selected, and as that kind of -stage called for no scenery one thing would go as well as another. - -The ladies had placed the matter in Mr. Walberg’s hands, and he had -at once thought of Sybil Saunders for Viola. She had played the part -through the provinces, made a hit and was in his opinion the ideal -person. There was a persuasive, almost coaxing quality in his manner, -not his usual manner with rising young actresses. But, as has been -said, he was a kindly man, and had heard that Sybil Saunders was -knocked out, couldn’t get the heart to work; also, as she was a young -person of irreproachable character, he inferred she must be hard up. -That brought him to compensation--not so munificent, but then Miss -Saunders was not yet in the star class--and all expenses would be -covered, including a week at Gull Island. This opportunity to dwell in -the seats of the mighty, free of cost, with sea air and scenery thrown -in, Mr. Walberg held before her as the final temptation. - -He had no need for further persuasion for Miss Saunders accepted -at once. She was grateful to him and said so and looked as if she -meant it. He felt the elation of a good work done for the charitable -ladies--they could get no one as capable as Sybil Saunders for the -price--and for the girl herself whose best hope was to get back into -harness. So, in a glow of mutual satisfaction, they walked to the door, -Mr. Walberg telling over such members of the cast as had already been -engaged: Sylvanus Grey for the Duke, Isabel Cornell for Maria, John -Gordon Trevor for Sir Toby--no one could beat him, had the old English -tradition--and Anne Tracy for Olivia. At that name Miss Saunders had -exclaimed in evident pleasure. Anne Tracy would be perfect, and it -would be so lovely having her, they were such friends. Mr. Walberg -nodded urbanely as if encouraging the friendships of young actresses -was his dearest wish, and at the door put the coping stone on these -agreeable announcements: - -“And I’m going to give you my best director, Hugh Bassett. If with you -and him they don’t pull off a success the Maine public’s dumber than I -thought.” - -Later in the day he saw his director and told him of Miss Saunders’ -engagement. - -“Poor little thing,” he said. “She looks like one of those vegetables -they grow in the dark to keep ’em white. But it’ll be the saving of -her. Now you go ahead and get this started--three weeks rehearsal here -and one up there ought to do you. And keep me informed--if any of these -swell dames turn up asking questions, I want to know where I’m at.” - -Her business accomplished, Miss Saunders went home. She lived in one -of those mid-town blocks of old brownstone houses divided into flats. -The flats were of the variety known as “push button” and “walk up,” -but she pushed no button as she knew hers would be tenantless. Letting -herself in with a latchkey she ascended the two flights at a rapid run, -unlocked her door and entered upon the hot empty quietude of her own -domain. The blinds in the parlor were lowered as she had left them. -She pulled one up with a nervous jerk, threw her hat on a chair, and -falling upon the divan opened the paper that she had carried since she -left the Grand Central Station. - -The news of the day evidently had no interest for her. She folded -the pages back at the personal column and settled over it, bent, -motionless, her eyes traveling down its length. Suddenly they stopped, -focussed on a paragraph. She rose and with swift, tiptoe tread went -into the hall and tried the front door. Coming back she took a pad and -pencil from the desk, drew a small table up to the divan, spread the -newspaper on it, and copied the paragraph on to the pad. It ran as -follows: - - “Sister Carrie: - - Edmund stoney broke but Albert able to help him. Think we ought to - chip in. Can a date be arranged for discussing his affairs? - - Sam and Lewis.” - -She studied it for some time, the pencil suspended. Then it descended, -crossing out letter after letter, till three words remained--“Edmunton, -Alberta, Canada.” The signature she guessed as the name he went by. - -She burned the written paper, grinding it to powder in the ash-tray. -The newspaper she threw into the waste-basket where Luella, the mulatto -woman who “did up” for her, would find it in the morning. She felt -certain Luella was paid to watch her, that the woman had a pass-key to -the mail-box and every torn scrap of letter or note was foraged for -and handed on. But she had continued to keep the evil-eyed creature, -fearful that her dismissal would make them more than ever wary, -strengthen their suspicion that Sybil Saunders was in communication -with her lover. - -The deadly danger of it was cold at her heart as she lay back on the -divan and closed her eyes. Through her shut lids she saw the paragraph -with the words of the address standing out like the writing on the -wall. She had heard directly from him once, a letter the day after he -had fled; the only one that even he, reckless in his despair, had -dared to send. In that he had told her to watch the personal column in -a certain paper and had given her the names by which she could identify -the paragraphs. She had watched and twice found the veiled message and -twice waited in sickening fear for discovery. It had not happened. -Now he had grown bolder, telling her where he was--it was as if his -hand beckoned her to come. She could write to him at last, do it this -evening and take it out after dark. Lying very still, her hands clasped -behind her head, she ran over in her mind letter-boxes, post-offices -where she might mail it. Were the ones in crowded districts or those in -secluded byways, the safest? It was like walking through grasses where -live wires were hidden. - -A ring at the bell made her leap to her feet with wild visions of -detectives. But it was only Anne Tracy, come in to see if she was -back from her visit on the Sound. It was a comfort to see Anne, she -always acted as if things were just as they had been and never asked -disturbing questions. In the wilting heat she looked cool and fresh, -her dress of yellow linen, her straw hat encircled by a wreath of -nasturtiums had the dainty neatness that always marked Anne’s clothes -and Anne herself. She was pale-skinned and black-haired, satin-smooth -hair drawn back from her forehead and rolled up from the nape of her -neck in an ebony curve. Because her eyebrows slanted upward at the ends -and her eyes were long and liquid-dark and her nose had the slightest -retroussé tilt, people said she looked like a Helleu etching. And other -people, who were more old-fashioned and did not know what a Helleu -etching was, said she looked like a lady. - -She was Sybil’s best friend, was to have been her bridesmaid. But she -knew no more of Sybil’s secrets since Jim Dallas had disappeared than -any one else. And she never sought to know--that was why the friendship -held. - -They had a great deal to talk about, but chiefly the _Twelfth -Night_ affair. Anne was immensely pleased that Sybil had agreed to -play. She did not say this--she avoided any allusions to Sybil’s -recent conducting of her life--but her enthusiasm about it all was -irresistible. It warmed the sad-eyed girl into interest; the Viola -costume was brought from its cupboard, the golden wig tried on. When -Anne took her departure late in the day, after iced tea and layer cake -in the kitchenette, she felt much relieved about her friend--she was -“coming back,” coming alive again, and this performance off in the -country, far from her old associations, was just the way for her to -start. - -Anne occupied another little flat on another of the mid-town streets -in another of the brownstone houses. Hers was one room larger, for her -brother, Joe Tracy, lived with her when not pursuing his profession -on the road. There were hiatuses in Joe’s pursuit during which he -inhabited a small bedroom in the rear and caused Ann a great deal of -worry and expense. Joe apparently did not worry, certainly not about -the expense. Absence of work wore on his temper not because Anne had -to carry the flat alone, but because he had no spending money. - -They said it was his temper that stood in his way. Something did, for -he was an excellent actor with that power of transforming himself into -an empty receptacle to be filled by the character he portrayed. But -directors who had had experience of him, talked about his “natural -meanness” and shook their heads. When his name was mentioned it had -become the fashion to add a follow-up sentence: “Seems impossible the -same parents could have produced him and Anne.” People who tried to be -sympathetic with Anne about him got little satisfaction. All the most -persistent ever extracted was an admission that Joe was “difficult.” No -one--not even Sybil or Hugh Bassett--ever heard what she felt about the -fight he had had with another boy over a game of pool which had nearly -landed him in the Elmira Reformatory. Bassett had dragged him out of -that, and Bassett had found him work afterward, and Bassett had boosted -and helped and lectured him since. And not for love of Joe, for in his -heart Bassett thought him a pretty hopeless proposition. - -That evening, alone in her parlor, Anne was thinking about him. He had -no engagement and no expectation of one, and it was not wise to leave -him alone in the flat without occupation. “Satan” and “the idle hands” -was a proverb that came to your mind in connection with Joe. She went -to the window and leaned out. The air rose from the street, breathless -and dead, the heated exhalation of walls and pavements baked all day by -the merciless sun. Passers-by moved languidly with a sound of dragging -feet. At areaways red-faced women sat limp in loose clothing, and from -open windows came the crying of tired little children. To leave Joe to -this while she was basking in the delights of Gull Island--apart from -anything he might do--it wasn’t fair. And then suddenly the expression -of her face changed and she drew in from the window--Hugh Bassett was -coming down the street. - -The bell rang, she pushed the button and presently he was at the door -saying he was passing and thought he’d drop in for a minute. He was -a big thick-set man with a quiet reposeful quality unshaken even by -the heat. It was difficult to think of Bassett shaken by any exterior -accident of life, so suggestive was his whole make-up of a sustained -equilibrium, a balanced adjustment of mental and physical forces. He -had dropped in a great deal this summer and as the droppings-in became -more frequent Anne’s outside engagements became less. They always -simulated a mutual surprise, giving them time to get over that somewhat -breathless moment of meeting. - -They achieved it rather better than usual to-night for their minds were -full of the same subject. Bassett had come to impart the good news -about Sybil, and Anne had seen her and heard all about it. There was a -great deal of talking to be done that was impersonal and during which -one forgot to be self-conscious. Finally when they had threshed out all -the matters of first importance Bassett said: - -“Did you tell her that Walberg wanted Aleck Stokes for the Duke?” - -“No, I didn’t say a word about it. What was the use? It would only have -upset her and you’d put a stop to it.” - -“You can always be relied on, Anne, to do the tactful thing. Walberg -was set on it. Stokes can’t be beaten in that part and he’s at liberty. -But I wasn’t going to take any chances of her refusing, and if Stokes -was in the company I was afraid she might.” - -“I don’t know whether she’d have gone that far, but it would have -spoiled everything for her and for the rest of us too. It’s all plain -sailing now except for one thing”--she stopped and then in answer -to his questioning look--“about the police. If they have her under -surveillance, as people say, what’ll they do about it up there?” - -The big man shrugged: - -“Camp in the village on the mainland--they certainly can’t come on the -island. We’ve special instructions about it--no one but the company -to be allowed there till the performance. Did she speak to you about -that?” - -“No, she hardly ever alludes to the subject. But they _would_ keep a -watch on her, wouldn’t they?” - -He nodded, frowning a little at a complication new in his experience: - -“I should think so--a woman in her position. Men under sentence of -death have been unable to keep away from the girl they were in love -with. And then she may know where he is, be in communication with him.” - -“Oh, I don’t think that,” Anne breathed in alarm. “She’d never take -such a risk.” - -“Well, we’re her friends and we’re as much in the dark as anybody. I -only know one thing--if they try to hound her down on that island--the -first chance she’s had to recuperate and rest--I’ll--” - -A slight grating noise came from the hall. Anne held up a quick -cautioning hand. - -“Take care,” she murmured. “Here’s Joe.” - -Joe came in, his Panama hat low on his brow. He gave no sign of -greeting till he saw Bassett, then he emitted an abrupt “Hello” and -snatched off the hat: - -“Little Anne’s got a caller. Howdy, Bassett! How’s things?” - -There was a jovial note in his voice, a wide grin of greeting on his -face. It was evident the sight of Bassett pleased him, and he stood -teetering back and forth on his toes and heels, looking ingratiatingly -at the visitor. He was like Anne, the same delicate features, the same -long eyebrows and the same trick of raising them till they curved high -on his forehead. But his face had an elfish, almost malign quality -lacking in hers, and the brown eyes, brilliant and hard, were set too -close to his nose. He was two years younger than she--twenty-two--but -looked older, immeasurably older, in the baser worldly knowledge which -had already set its stamp upon him. - -He launched forth with a suggestion of pouncing eagerness on the -_Twelfth Night_ performance. He had heard this and that, and Anne had -told him the other. His interest surprised Anne, he hadn’t shown much -to her; only a few laconic questions. And she was wondering what was -in his mind, as she so often wondered when Joe held the floor, when a -question enlightened her: - -“Have you got anybody to play Sebastian yet?” - -“No. I wanted that boy who played with her on the southern tour last -year, but he’s in England. He gave a first-rate performance and he -_did_ look like her.” - -“That was a lucky chance. You’ll search the whole profession before you -get any one that looks like Sybil’s twin brother.” - -“He ought to bear some resemblance to her,” and Bassett quoted, “‘One -face, one voice, one habit, and two persons.’ I wonder if Shakespeare -had twins in his eye when he wrote the play.” - -“Not he! They did the same in his day as they do now--dressed ’em up -alike and let it go at that. Why, Mrs. Gawtrey, the English actress, -when she was over here, had a boy to play Sebastian who looked as much -like her--well, not as much as I look like Sybil.” - -Bassett had seen his object as Anne had and was considering. He had -been looking forward to the week at Gull Island with Anne, it loomed in -his imagination as a festival. There would be a pleasant, companionable -group of people, friendly, working well together. But Joe among them---- - -The boy, looking down at his feet, said slowly: - -“What’s the matter with letting me do it?” - -“Nothing’s the matter. I’ve no doubt you could, but you and she have -about as much resemblance as chalk and cheese.” - -Joe wheeled and gathering his coat neatly about his waist walked across -the room with a mincing imitation of Sybil’s gait. It was so well -done that Bassett could not contain his laughter. Encouraged, the boy -assumed a combative attitude, his face aflame with startled anger, -and striking out, at imaginary opponents, shouted: “‘Why there’s for -thee, and there and there and there. Are all the people mad?’” Then as -suddenly melted to a lover’s tone and looking ardently at Anne said: -“‘If it be thus to dream then let me sleep.’” - -“Oh, he _could_ play it,” she exclaimed, and Bassett weakened before -the pleading in her eyes. - -He understood how to manage Joe, he could keep him in order. The boy -was afraid of him anyway, and by this time knew that his future lay -pretty well in Bassett’s hands. If there was anything Anne wanted that -was within his gift there could be no question about its being hers. - -She was very sweet, murmuring her thanks as she went with him to the -door and assurances that Joe would acquit himself well. Bassett hardly -heard what she said, looking into her dark eyes, feeling the soft -farewell pressure of her hand. - -Joe had left the sitting-room when she went back there and she supposed -he had gone to bed. But presently he came in, his hat on again and said -he was going out. She was surprised, it was past eleven, but he swung -about looking for his cane, saying it was too hot to sleep. She tried -to detain him with remarks about the new work. He answered shortly -as was his wont with her, treating it as a small matter, nothing to -get excited about--also a familiar pose. But she noticed under his -nonchalance a repressed satisfaction, the glow of an inner elation in -his eyes. - - - - -I - - -THE performance was over and the audience was dispersing. Gull Island, -colored to a chromo brightness by the declining sun, had not showed so -animated an aspect since the reception for the Spanish ambassador last -July. People in pale-tinted summer clothes were trailing across from -the open-air theater and massing in a group as gay as a flower garden -at the dock. Some of them had gone into the house, taken the chance to -have a look at it--when the Driscolls were “in residence” you couldn’t -so much as put your foot on the rocks round the shore. Others lingered, -having a farewell word with the actors, congratulating them--it was the -right thing to do and they deserved it. The committee was very affable, -shaking hands with Mr. Bassett the director and Miss Saunders the star, -who, in her page’s dress with the paint still on her face, looked -tired, poor girl, but was so sweet and unassuming. - -It had been a complete success. The matrons who had organized it -scanned the crowd converging toward the dock and smiled the comfortable -smile of accomplishment. The summer home for tenement children could -build its new wing and employ that man from Boston who had such modern -scientific methods. And the matrons, stiff in the back and unbecomingly -flushed after sitting two hours in the sun on the stone seats of -the theater, drew toward one another on the wharf and agreed that -everything had gone off beautifully and the board should at once write -to Mr. Driscoll and thank him for lending the island. - -The fleet of boats, rocking gently on the narrow channel that separated -Gull Island from the mainland, took on their freight and darted off. -They started in groups then broke apart. Speed boats that had come from -points afar, whizzed away with a seething rush and a crumple of crystal -foam at the bow. The launches skimmed, light-winged, the white flurry -of their wakes like threads that stretched back to the island. - -People turned and looked at it--sun-gilded in an encircling girdle -of Prussian blue sea. The rocks about its base, the headlands that -rose above, were dyed to an orange red and against this brilliancy of -primary colors the pines stood out darkly silhouetted. On the rise -above the wharf the long brown structure of the house spread, rambling -and irregular, built, it was said, to suggest an outgrowth of the rocky -foundation. The watchers could see in the open place beyond the side -balcony the actors standing motionless, spaced in a group. Yes, having -their photographs taken; there was the camera man who’d been taking -pictures during the performance. And they craned their necks for a last -look at the lovely scene and the picturesque assemblage of players. - -Part of the flotilla carried the Hayworth villagers--all-year residents -of the little town on the mainland. Some of the more solid citizens -were in the launch that old Gabriel Harvey owned, which had been used -by the actors in their week’s stay. Hayworth had gathered a great deal -of information about these spectacular visitors, some from Gabriel and -some from Sara Pinkney who was Mr. Driscoll’s housekeeper, living in -Hayworth all winter and in summer reigning in the Gull Island kitchen. -Mr. Driscoll had wired Sara to go over and open up and take charge -while they were there--spare nothing, those were his orders. And Sara -had done it, not wanting to, but apart from its being Mr. Driscoll’s -wishes which she had followed for the last ten years, she had felt it -her duty to keep an eye on the property. Every day she came over to -Hayworth for supplies and had to appease the local curiosity, which she -did grudgingly, feeling her power. - -Now at last the Hayworth people had had a first-hand view of the -actors--the whole company, dressed up and performing--and they fitted -Sara Pinkney’s description to them. Olivia, that was Miss Tracy, -the one she said was so refined and pleasant-spoken. And the Duke -was Alexander Stokes. He was the feller that had come after the -others because the first man took sick--wonderful the way he did it -considering, didn’t miss a word. And the woman who stood round and -“tended on” Olivia was his wife. Sara hadn’t said much about her. Well, -she wasn’t of much importance anyhow or she’d have had more acting to -do. But that boy who was Viola’s twin, he was Miss Tracy’s brother, and -Sara had said he and Miss Saunders didn’t get on well, _she_ could see -it though they didn’t say much. And here piped up the butcher’s wife -who was more interested in the play than in personalities: - -“I don’t see how Olivia took him for the page she was in love with. He -didn’t look like Viola in the face. She was real pretty, but he’d a -queer sly mug on him, that boy.” - -“Aw, you can’t be too particular. You don’t need to have it so real.” - -“I guess she was meant to be blinded by love. And him dressed the same, -hair and all, might lead her astray.” - -“I don’t see how you could have ’em look just alike unless they’d get -an actress who had a real twin brother, and maybe you’d go the whole -country over and not find that.” - -“He ain’t like her no way,” growled old Gabriel from the wheel, “I seen -’em both when they wasn’t acting and he’s an ugly pup, that one.” - -Then the boat grating on the Hayworth wharf, Gabriel urged them off. He -hadn’t got through yet, got to go back for part of the company who were -calculating to get the main line at Spencer, and after that back again -for the Tracy boy. He muttered on as they climbed out, grumbling to -himself, which nobody noticed as it had been his mode of expression for -the last thirty years. - -The swaying throng of boats emptied their cargoes and the thick-pressed -crowd, moving to the end of the wharf, separated into streams and -groups. Farewells, last commending comments, rose on the limpid -sea-scented air. Everybody was a little tired. The villagers, dragging -their feet, passed along the board walks to their vine-draped piazzas. -They would find their kitchens hot and dull that night after two -hours in the enchanted land of Illyria. The waiting line of motors -absorbed the summer visitors, wheeled off and purred away past the -white cottages under the New England elms. The matrons sank gratefully -upon the yielding cushions, rolling by the dusty buggies, the battered -Fords, the lines of bicycle riders, into the quiet serene country -where the shadows were lying long and clear. Yes, it had been a great -success; from first to last there hadn’t been a hitch. - - - - -II - - -THAT was how the audience saw it, but they were outsiders. There was -one outsider left on the island, Wally Shine, the photographer sent -by the Universal Syndicate to take pictures of what was a “notable -society event” in a place of which the public had heard much and seen -nothing. He had arrived that morning with two cameras and a delighted -appreciation of the beauty he was to record. But, unlike the other -outsiders, his impressions extending over a longer period had not been -so agreeable. He had seen the actors at close range, in their habits as -they lived, lunched with them, watched the last rehearsal, taken a lot -of pictures of Miss Saunders in the house and garden. And he had sensed -an electric disturbance in the atmosphere, and come upon evidences of -internal discord. - -That was at the last rehearsal, when the poetic Viola had lost her -temper like an ordinary woman and jumped on the Tracy boy--something -about the place he stood in--nothing, as far as Shine could see, to get -mad about. And the boy had answered in kind like the spitting of an -angry cat. An ugly scene that the director had to stop. - -Then the man Stokes who played the Duke, a handsome, romantic-looking -chap--something was the matter with him. “Eating him” was the phrase -Shine used to himself and it wasn’t a bad one. He had a haunted sort -of look, as if his mind was disturbed, especially when he’d turn his -eyes on Miss Saunders. Shine had noticed him particularly when they -gathered for the group pictures; his hands were unsteady and the -perspiration was out on his forehead though the air was cool from the -sea. His wife--the woman they called Flora--was on to him. Shine saw -her watching him, sidelong from under her eyelids, the way you watch a -person when you don’t want them to see it. - -The photographer was a fat easy-going man, inured to the vagaries of -those who follow the arts. But he was sensitive to emotional stress and -he felt it here--below the surface--and was moved to curiosity. - -The photographs were finished and the group broke up. Part of the -company were going and they ran toward the house--a medieval route--the -big Sir Toby with a rolling amble, Sir Andrew, long and lank, cavorting -like a mettlesome steed. Their antic shadows fled before them over the -dried sea grass, and their voices, shouting absurdities, rang rich and -deep-throated on the crystal atmosphere. - -Miss Saunders and Miss Tracy linked arms and moved off toward the -headlands. Receding in the amber light they were like a picture from -some antique romance--the noble lady and her page. One in narrow -casings of crimson brocade, the other in short swinging kilt and -braided jacket of more sober gray. Shine, fascinated, watched them -pacing slowly over the burnished grass. Flocks of sea-gulls, roused by -their voices, rose into the air, poised and wheeled, one moment dark, -the next floating shapes of gold. He turned to go and saw that Stokes -was watching them too, intent like a hungry dog, the hand that held a -stalk of feathered grass against his lips, trembling. - -The photographer shouldered his camera and went toward the house. A -jeweled brightness of garden extended along its seaward front. Beyond -this was the one stretch of cultivated turf on the island, an emerald -slope leading to the cuplike hollow that held the amphitheater. He -skirted the side balcony, the wide-flung doors giving a glimpse of -an entrance hall, and turning the corner emerged upon the land front -of the long capacious building. The surroundings on this side had -been left as nature made them--rock shelves and ledges, devoid of -vegetation, a path winding round them from the entrance to the wharf. -Hayworth showed across the channel in a clustering of gray roofs from -which smoke skeins rose straight into the suave rose-washed sky. The -water rushed between, a swollen tide, threads of white dimpled eddies, -telling of its racing speed. - -The door on this side of the house opened directly into the -living-room. No hall within or porch without interfered with the view; -the path ended unceremoniously at the foot of two broad steps that -led to the threshold. On the lower of these steps Shine found a lady -sitting smoking a cigarette. This was the Maria of the cast, Mrs. -Cornell in private life. She was still in her costume, her redundant -figure swelling over the traditional laced bodice, the rouge on her -cheeks hardly showing against the coat of sunburn a week at Gull Island -had laid on. He had found her as easy as himself, good-humoredly -loquacious and not involved in the prevailing discord. An admirable -person to clear up mysteries. He sank down beside her on the step and -took the cigarette box she flipped toward him. - -“Wouldn’t you think,” she said, “a man as rich as this Mr. Driscoll -would fix up round here better?” - -Shine, who had artistic responses, had long learned not to intrude them -on the uninitiated. - -“I guess he liked it wild,” he suggested, and lit a cigarette. - -“But it looks so rough, not a flower bed or a vase--just paths. That -one there,” she pointed to a path that skirted the side of the house -and dipped to a small grove of pines below, “goes through those -pines and up to that summer-house. Nothing on the way and what’s the -summer-house when you get there? Old style rustic work with vines. -You’d suppose he’d build a temple and have some marble benches round. -The way the rich spend their money always gets me.” - -Shine had been in the grove of pines, a growth of stunted trees filling -in a hollow. He had followed the path through it, up the slope to the -summer-house and beyond to where the bluff dropped away in a sheer -cliff to the channel. They called the place “The Point” as it projected -beyond the shore line in a rocky outthrust shoulder, gulls circling -about it, water seething below. He looked there now, let his glance -slip along the curve of headlands till it reached the two girls, -perched on a boulder like a pair of bright-plumaged birds. He was -thinking how to approach the matter in his mind, when Mrs. Cornell went -on: - -“I don’t see what any one wanted to build a house here for--cut off -this way. It’s too lonesome. With the tide at the full as it is now -you can’t get ashore without a motor-boat. You know that current’s -something fierce.” - -He looked down at it, its rushing corded surface purple dark: - -“Looks to be some current.” - -“It would carry you out and ‘Good night’ to you. Gabriel who runs the -launch told me. Set’s right out to sea someway. And the rise and fall -to it--I couldn’t tell you how many feet it is, but you’ll see for -yourself to-night if you’re awake--all the channel bare, nothing but -rocks and mud. And across the middle of it to Hayworth, a causeway. -That’s the only way you can get ashore at _low_ tide. High or low -you’re pretty well marooned. It’s seclusion all right if that’s what -you’re after.” - -Shine was after information and with the talk running on tides and -causeways he saw no chance of getting it. So he tried to divert the -garrulous lady: - -“That’s Miss Saunders and Miss Tracy out there looking at the sunset.” - -Mrs. Cornell answered with emphasis: - -“Yes, _they’re_ friends.” - -“Aren’t you all?” - -“Some of us knew each other before we came here,” was her cryptic -reply. Then she added pensively: “Six months ago you’d never have found -Sybil Saunders looking at a sunset. She was the _brightest_ thing!” - -“Awful misfortune that what happened to her.” - -She gave a derisive sound at the inadequacy of the word: - -“Hah--awful! Took the heart right out of her. If you ever saw a girl in -love it was she--bound up in him. Everything ready, the wedding day -set, the trousseau made.” Tears rose in her eyes and she dove into her -tight bodice for a handkerchief. “Never to be worn, Mr. Shine--that’s -life.” - -Shine gave forth sympathetic murmurs and Mrs. Cornell, dabbing at her -eyes, furnished data between the dabs: - -“Two men drinking too much and then a fight, and before anybody knew, -murder! If there hadn’t been a brass candlestick near Jim Dallas’ hand -it would never have happened. Honest to God, Mr. Shine, there was -nothing evil in that young man. But the Parkinson family are camped on -his trail. The evil’s in them, if you ask me, with their rewards and -detectives.” - -“I wonder if she knows where he is.” - -“I guess there’s more than one wondering that,” the lady murmured. - -“Terribly hard position for her if she does know--or if she doesn’t.” - -Shine looked at the page’s figure on the rock. She carried the thing -stamped on her face. He had noticed it particularly where he had taken -the photographs of her in the living-room. They were time exposures -with his small camera, attempts to catch her fragile prettiness in -artistic combinations of light and shade. Once or twice the mask had -been dropped and he had seen the drooping lines, the weariness, and -something like fear on the delicate features. - -For a space they smoked in silence. Round the corner of the house the -tall figure of Stokes strolled into view. He looked at the seated -girls, then turned and glanced behind him with a quick and furtive -sweep of the eyes. At the sight of them he nodded, walked down to the -wharf and dropped on a bench. - -Shine lowered his voice: - -“What’s the matter with him?” - -Mrs. Cornell met his eyes; her own were narrowed and sharp. - -“What makes you think anything is?” - -“His whole make-up--something’s wearing on him.” - -She blew out a long shoot of smoke and, watching it, murmured: - -“Yes, it’s out on him like a rash. He oughtn’t to have come, but the -first man they had, Sylvanus Grey, took sick and Mr. Walberg engaged -Stokes in a hurry and sent him up. It’s spoiled everything for the rest -of us. He’s crazy about Sybil if you want to know what’s the matter -with him.” - -“Oh!” It came with an understanding inflection, the haggard glances -rising on Shine’s memory. - -“Can’t hide it, doesn’t want to hide it. There’s no shame in him, -tracking after the girl. And it’s not as if he got any encouragement. -She can’t bear him; that’s why she has Anne Tracy out there, afraid if -she sits alone five minutes he’ll come loping up. You’d think if he -didn’t have any pride he’d have some feeling for his wife. She’s half -crazy with jealousy, burning up with it. These purple passions are all -right in books, Mr. Shine, but believe me they’re not comfortable to -live with.” - -“I felt it.” - -“I guess you would, it’s in the air. All of us cooped up in this place -where you can’t get off. I thought it was going to be such a nice -restful change. But lord! It’s about as restful as camping on the side -of Vesuvius. Sybil and Joe Tracy ready to fight at the drop of the hat -and Flora going round in circles and Stokes like one of those fireworks -that starts sputtering and you don’t know whether they’re going to -explode or die on you. I tell you I’ll be glad when we get out of here -to-morrow morning.” - -There was a footfall in the room behind them and Mrs. Cornell turned to -see who was coming. - -“Oh, Flora,” she said. “Come out and take a look at the sunset. It’s -something grand.” - -The woman stepped out and stood beside them. She had changed her -costume and her narrow blue linen dress outlined her too slender -figure. Shine thought she would have been pretty if she had not looked -so worn and thin. He noticed the brightness of her dark eyes, brilliant -and quick-moving as a bird’s. There was red on her cheek-bones, a -flushed patch that was not rouge. Mrs. Cornell’s expression recurred to -him, “burning up”--the meager body, the hot high color, the dry lips -resolutely smiling, suggested inner fires. - -“Yes,” she answered, “it’s a wonderful evening.” - -“Take a cig.” Mrs. Cornell offered the box. - -“Sit down, there’s plenty of room.” Shine moved up. - -“No, I can’t sit down. There’s something about the air that makes you -restless--too stimulating maybe.” She raised her voice and called to -her husband, “Aleck, aren’t you coming in to change your clothes?” - -Without moving the man called back: - -“Not yet. There’s no hurry.” - -She turned to Shine with a little condoning air of wifely tolerance: - -“Mr. Stokes has been shut up so long in town he can’t get enough of the -fresh air.” - -“He’s enjoying the scenery, too,” Shine answered, and saw her eyes -travel to the two figures on the rock. - -“Oh, that of course--that’s the best part of it.” Then in a tone of -bright discovery: “Why look where Anne and Sybil are! Have they been -there long?” - -“Ever since I’ve been here.” Mrs. Cornell’s voice was more than -soothing, bluffly reassuring as the voice of one who tells a child -there is no ghost. “And ever since Mr. Shine got through the pictures! -Wallowing in the beauties of nature like the rest of us.” - -“Won’t you wallow, too?” Shine indicated the long unoccupied space on -the step. - -She shook her head: - -“I like moving about. Something in this place gets on my nerves, it’s -like being in a jail.” On a deep breath she shot out, “I hate it,” and -stepped back into the room. - -“Going?” Mrs. Cornell veered round to follow her retreating figure. - -“Yes. I enjoy the scenery better when it hasn’t got people in it.” - -They looked at each other; a still minute of eye communication. - -“She’s all worked up,” he murmured. - -Her answer was to point to the two girls and then to Stokes: - -“Now she’ll keep her eye on them from somewhere else--probably the side -piazza. That’s the way you are when you’re jealous--the sight of it -kills you and you can’t stop watching.” - -“Lord!” whispered Shine into whose life no such gnawing passions had -entered. And he thought of the girl in the page’s dress who was afraid -to sit alone, and the man on the wharf brooding within sight of her, -and the woman who was hovering round them like a helpless distracted -bird. - - - - -III - - -THE launch was on its way back for those of the actors who were -leaving. Gabriel, squatting by the engine, calculated the distribution -of his time. After he’d taken them across he’d have his supper and -then go back for Joe Tracy, who was leaving on the seven fifteen for -his vacation. When Joe was disposed of, Gabriel was to meet two Boston -sports who had engaged him for a week’s deep-sea fishing at White -Beach, twenty-five miles down the coast. It was a strenuous program for -the old man and he grumbled to himself about it, the grumbling gaining -zest by anticipations that some of them would be late. If it was any of -the actors, by gum, he wouldn’t wait for them, with the sports ready -to take him along in their car at seven. By the time he drew near the -island he had grumbled himself into a state of irascible defiance -against any one who would dare upset his plans. - -To warn them of his coming he sounded the whistle and its shrill -toot acted like a magic summons. A group of men, bearing suit-cases -and bags, emerged from the entrance and ran down the path, Bassett -following. Miss Pinkney’s helper, a native of Hayworth, hurried from -the kitchen wing, a suit-case in her hand, and even the august Sara -herself appeared in the doorway of her domain. - -Gabriel quieted down--they were all ready and waiting--and then saw Joe -Tracy come round the corner of the house in his Sebastian dress. The -old man muttered profanely--why wasn’t the d----d cub getting ready? -And as the boat made its landing, he called out: - -“Say, you’d better be gettin’ them togs off. I’ll be back here for you -at a quarter to seven.” - -The boy, leaping lightly from rock to rock, grinned without answering. -The picturesque dress suited him, he looked almost handsome, and with -the feathered cap on his golden wig set rakishly aslant, he moved -downward with a taunting debonair swagger. Gabriel didn’t like him -anyway and now his impudent face, framed by the drooping blond curls, -looked to the launch man malignantly spiteful. - -Gabriel could say no more then for the confusion of good-bys possessed -the wharf. The actors shouted them out even to Miss Pinkney, flattering -assurances of their inability to forget her and her cooking. She waved -a condescending hand and permitted herself a smile, for she was very -glad to get rid of them. - -But Gabriel wasn’t going to go till he’d made things clear. He appealed -to Bassett whom he had privately sized up as the only one of the outfit -who was like the rational human males of his experience. Besides he had -seen that Joe Tracy respected, if not feared, the director: - -“I’ll be back here at quarter to seven for the Tracy boy, and I’m -tellin’ him he’s got to be ready. I can’t waste no time settin’ round -waitin’ and if he’s not here on the dot--” - -“That’s all right,” Bassett put a comforting hand on his shoulder and -turned to Joe. “You heard that, Joe?” - -The boy answered with his sneering grin: - -“What’s got the old geezer? Does he think I’m as deaf as he is?” - -Gabriel’s weather-beaten visage reddened. He was not in the habit of -being called an “old geezer” and he was not deaf. But the actors, all -in the boat, were clamoring to start. They had a train to make--get in -ancient servitor, and turn on the current. Miss Pinkney’s helper, with -her hat on one side and her face crimson, giggled hysterically, and in -a chorus of farewells the boat chugged off. - -The three men left on the wharf went up the path to the doorway where -Shine and Mrs. Cornell had resumed their seats. Shine was struck by -their difference of type,--if you went the world over you couldn’t -find three more varied specimens. The only one he liked was Bassett, -something square and solid about him and a good straight look in his -eyes. The kind of chap, Shine thought, you’d ask directions of in the -street and who’d give ’em to you no matter what hurry he was in. And -he’d a lot of authority--the way he managed this wild-eyed bunch showed -that. Shine had noticed, too, a sort of exuberant quality of good will -about him--like a light within shining out--and set it down to relief -at having got through without any one blowing the lid off. - -They stopped at the steps and Joe Tracy made his good-bys. He was going -camping in the woods with his friend Jimmy Travers, who was to meet -him at Bangor to-night. They’d stay there twenty-four hours getting -their stuff together, then be off for the northern solitudes--no beaten -tracks for them. He left, jauntily swinging his kilted skirts, a -whistled tune on his lips. Soon after, Stokes departed, saying he was -going to change his clothes. His air was nonchalant, lounging up the -steps and crossing the living-room with a lazy padding stride. - -A door to the right opened into the entrance hall. Here he and his -wife occupied a ground-floor room. It was on the garden front of the -house opposite the stairway that led to the second story. He listened -at the panel before he entered, then softly turned the knob, and, -inside, as softly closed the door. Shut in and alone his languid pose -fell from him like a cloak. An avid eagerness sharpened his features -and directed his hands, pulling open his valise and taking from it -a small leather case. Moving back from the window he pushed up his -sleeve, took the hypodermic from the case and pressed in the needle. -When he had restored the bag to its place, he threw himself on the bed -and lay with closed eyes feeling the ineffable comfort, grateful as an -influx of life, vitalize and soothe his tortured being. - -Mrs. Cornell and Shine rose up and followed him. Mrs. Cornell had her -packing to get through and wanted Miss Pinkney’s help. Shine was going -to see if the pantry would do for a dark room, intending to take some -flashlight photographs of the company that evening. He had found in -a cabinet all the flashlight requisites and thought it would be an -interesting memento of their visit--each of them to have a picture. - -“They’ve got everything here,” he said as he pointed to the corner -where he had made his find. “Not alone all the supplies, but two -first-class cameras and a projector. I suppose some of the family took -it up for a fad.” - -Mrs. Cornell opined it was to occupy the young men. There were several -Driscoll boys and if you didn’t give them something to do they’d get -into mischief. Though, if you asked her, she didn’t see any chances for -mischief in _this_ jumping-off place, unless the high tide washed in a -few mermaids. - -Then they passed on through the left doorway, into the side wing of -the house. Here Shine, who was domiciled in the butler’s bedroom, -disappeared into the adjoining pantry and Mrs. Cornell trod resolutely -on into the kitchen, being one of the few members of the company who -was not afraid of the housekeeper. - -Miss Pinkney, who was sitting upright in a stiff-backed chair, -rose respectfully. She was a lean slab-sided woman of fifty, with -tight-drawn hair and a long horse face. She had disapproved bitterly of -the intrusion of the actors upon the sacred precincts of Gull Island -and though she had been rigidly polite hoped that her disapproval had -got across. Anyway, she had had the satisfaction of putting cotton -sheets on their beds and serving their meals on the kitchen china. If -they did any damage to the house or premises she was ready to assert -her authority, and she had been on the watch. But they had been careful -and orderly and treated her with the proper deference, and in her heart -the revolutionary thought had arisen that they were equally considerate -and more amusing than the usual run of Gull Island guests. Also they -gave her a subject of conversation that would last out the winter. - -Mrs. Cornell broached her request and Miss Pinkney agreed. She was even -very pleasant about it, showing a brisk friendly alacrity--with the -helper gone there’d only be a cold supper and she could dish that up -in two shakes. Together they left the kitchen and on the stairs Mrs. -Cornell hooked her plump arm inside Miss Pinkney’s bony one and said -when Mr. Shine took the flashlights that night he must take one of them -as the “feeder” and the other as the “fed.” - - - - -IV - - -BASSETT had gone into the house too. As he crossed the living-room he -noticed its deserted quietude, in contrast to the noise and bustle that -had possessed it an hour ago. - -It was a rich friendly room, comfortably homelike in spite of its size, -for it crossed the center of the house, its rear door opening on the -garden as the one opposite did on the path. It was spacious in height -as well as width, its walls rising two stories. Midway up a gallery -ran, on three sides of which the bedrooms opened. The fourth side, on -the seaward front, was flanked by a line of windows, great squares of -unsullied glass that looked over the garden and the amphitheater to -the uplands and the open ocean. There were tables here, raking wicker -chairs, and low settees with brilliant cushions, books lying about and -smokers’ materials. In the room below the character of a hunting lodge -had been suggested by mounted deer heads, Indian blankets, baskets of -cunning weave and animal skins on the floor. But it was an idealized -hunting lodge, with seats in which the body sank luxuriously, and -softly shaded lights. Round the deep-mouthed chimney the scent of wood -fires lingered, the fires of birch logs that leaped there when Gull -Island lay under storm and mist. The architect had not diminished the -effect of size and unencumbered space by stairs. The second story was -reached by two flights, one in the entrance hall, one in the kitchen -wing. - -Bassett opened the door into the hall where again all was quiet, none -of the jarring accents that occasionally rose from the Stokes’ room. -He walked across the gleaming parquette to the library which he had -used for his office. There were no signs of the hunting lodge here--a -scholarly retreat, book-lined, with leather armchairs and lights -arranged for readers’ eyes, a place for delightful hours if one had -time to drowse and poke about on the shelves. Two long French windows -framed a view of the channel and Hayworth dreaming among its elms. He -went to one of the windows and looked out. The girls were still sitting -there, and, as he looked at them, an expression of infinite tenderness -lay like a light on his face. It was the light Shine had noticed, -allowed to break through clearly now that no one was there to see. - -He sat down at the desk; there were letters for him to answer, addenda -of the performance to check up. He moved the papers, looked at them, -pushed them away, and, resting his forehead on his hands, relinquished -himself to a deep pervading happiness. Yesterday Anne had promised to -marry him. - -His mind, held all day to his work, now flew to her--memories of her -face with the down-bent lids as he had asked her, and the look in her -eyes as they met his. Brave beautiful eyes with her soul in them. It -had been no light acceptance for her, it meant the surrendering of her -whole being, her life given over to him. He heard her voice again, and -his face sank into his hands, his heart trembling in the passion of its -dedication to her service. Anne, whom he had coveted and yearned for -and thought so far beyond his reach--his! He would be worthy of her, -and he would take such care of her, gird her round with his two arms, a -buckler against every ill that life might bring. She’d had such a hard -time of it, struggling up by herself with Joe hung round her neck like -a millstone. - -At the memory of Joe he came to earth with a jarring impact. He dropped -his hands and stared at the papers, his brows bent in harassed thought. -Joe had broken the charm, obstructed the way to the paradise of dreams -like the angel with the flaming sword--though angel was not exactly the -word. Bassett had heard something that morning from Sybil which must -be looked into--something he could hardly believe. But Joe being what -he was you never could tell. It had been a mistake to bring him, with -Sybil a bunch of nerves and Stokes shunted unexpectedly into their -midst. And now he felt responsible, he’d have it out with Joe before he -left. One more disagreeable scene before they separated to-morrow, and -Bassett, like Mrs. Cornell, felt he’d thank Providence when they were -all on the train in the morning. Meantime he’d go over his papers while -he waited for the boy who had gone to his room to dress. The door was -open and he could hear him as he came down the stairs. - -Anne was approaching the house, a slender crimson figure, her hair -in the sunset light shining like black lacquer. She was smiling to -herself--everything was so beautiful, not only Gull Island and this -hour of tranquil glory, but the mere fact of existing. Then she saw -Flora Stokes sitting on the balcony and realized that in this golden -world there were people to whom life was a dark and troublous affair. -She wanted to comfort Flora, let some of the happiness in her own heart -spill over into that burdened one. But she knew no way of doing it, -could only smile at the haggard face the woman lifted from her book. - -“Oh, Mrs. Stokes, reading,” she cried as she ran up the steps. “How -can you read on such an evening as this?” - -Flora Stokes said she had been walking about till she was tired, and -then glanced at the distant rock: - -“You’ve left Sybil out there.” - -There was no comfort or consolation that could penetrate Mrs. Stokes’ -obsession. Anne could only reassure: - -“She’s coming in soon. She just wanted to see the end of the sunset.” - -She passed into the hall, sorry--oh, so sorry! But the library door -was open and she halted, poised birdlike for one glance. The man at -the desk had his back to her and she said nothing, yet he turned, gave -a smothered sound and jumped up. She shut her eyes as she felt his -arms go about her and his kisses on her hair, her senses blurred in a -strange ineffably sweet confusion of timidity and delight. - -“Oh, Anne,” she heard his voice between the kisses. “I was waiting for -you.” - -“Some one will see us,” she whispered. “Take care.” - -She could feel the beating of his heart through his coat. Her hands -went up to his shoulders feeling along the rough tweed and with her -lids down-drooped she lifted her face. - -“Darling,” he breathed, when the kiss was over, “I thought you were -never coming.” - -“I had to stay with Sybil. She didn’t want to be alone.” - -“But _you_ wanted to be here?” - -“Just _here_,” she laid a finger on his breast and broke into -smothered, breathless laughter. - -He laughed too and they drew apart, their hands sliding together and -interlocking. It was all so new, so bewilderingly entrancing, that they -did not know how to express it, the man staring wonder-struck, the -girl, with her quivering laughter that was close to tears, looking this -way and that, not knowing where to look. - -“I ought to go,” she whispered. “They’ll be coming,” but made no move. - -“Wait till they do.” Then with a sudden practical facing of realities, -“When will we be married?” - -“Oh, not for ages! I’m not used to being engaged yet!” - -“I am--I never was before but I must have had a talent for it, I’ve -taken to it so well.” - -“Oh, Hugh!” Her laughter came more naturally, his with it. They were -like a pair of children, delighting in a little secret. “Won’t they be -surprised when they hear? Nobody has a suspicion of it.” - -She looked so enchanting with her eyebrows arched in mischievous query -that he made a movement to clasp her again, and then came the creak of -an opening door from the floor above. - -“Hist!” she held up a warning hand and slid away, her face, glancing -back for a last look, beautiful in its radiant joy. - -Bassett moved to the stair-foot. Once again he had to come down to -earth with a bump. He passed his hand over his face as if to wipe off -an expression incompatible with disagreeable interviews. This must be -Joe. - -It _was_ Joe, dressed for travel in knickerbockers and a Norfolk -jacket, a golf cap on the back of his head. He carried an overcoat -across his arm, in his hands a suit-case and a fishing-rod done up in -a canvas case. At the sight of Bassett he halted, and the elder man -noticed a change in his expression, a quick focusing to attention. - -“Oh,” he said. “Want to see me, Bassett?” - -“Yes, I want to speak to you before you go.” - -Joe descended. Stopping a step above Bassett, he set down his baggage -and leaned on the banister, politely waiting. - -Bassett spoke with lowered voice: - -“I heard something this morning that I can hardly believe--an -accusation against you. That you’ve been using your position here to -act as one of the police spies who’ve been keeping tab on Sybil.” - -The boy looked at him with impenetrable eyes and answered in the same -lowered key: - -“Who told you that?” - -“She did. She accuses you of having come here with that intention, got -the job knowing that no outsiders were to be allowed on the island.” - -Bassett was certain he had paled under his tan, but his face retained a -masklike passivity. - -“Sounds as if she might be losing her mind.” - -“You deny it?” - -The boy gave a scornful shrug: - -“Of course I deny it. I shouldn’t think it would be necessary to ask -that. She’s had a down on me for some time--everybody’s seen it, -snapping and snarling at me for nothing--and I suppose she wants to get -an excuse for it.” - -“She says she came upon you examining a letter of hers, holding it up -to the light. And three days ago she found you in her room looking over -the papers in her desk.” - -“Ah!” he made a gesture of angry contempt. “It would make a person -sick--examining her letters! I was looking through the mail bag to see -if there was anything for me. If I took up one of hers by mistake does -that prove I was examining it?” - -“How about the other thing?” - -“Being in her room? Yes, I was there. I went in to get a stamp. I had -an important letter to go when Gabriel took over the mail and it was -time for him. All the rest of you were out. Her room was next to mine -and I went in. I never thought anything about it, no more than I would -have thought about going into Anne’s or yours or anybody else’s. She’s -nutty, I tell you. You can’t trust her word. And if she says I’m hired -to spy on her she’s a damned----” - -He stopped. Basset’s eye was steady on him in a cold command he knew. -There was the same cold quality in the director’s voice: - -“If the position Sybil’s in has made her suspicious, that’s all right. -I’d like to believe it was the case. But if any of us--supposedly -her friends--had inserted themselves in here to carry on police -surveillance, using _me_ to get them in--well, I’d not think _that_ all -right.” - -Joe leaned over the banister. His control was shaken, his voice -hoarsely urgent: - -“You got to be fair, Bassett, and because you’re sorry for her is no -reason to set her word over mine. It’s _not_ true. Don’t you believe -me?” - -Bassett did not answer for a moment. He wanted to believe and he -doubted; he thought of Joe’s desire to come, of the reward: - -“I guess you know, Joe, you can trust me to be fair, but I’m not going -to commit myself till I know. It won’t be hard to do that. I can find -out when I get back to New York. And take this from me--if what Sybil -says is true I’m done with you. No more help from me, no more work in -any company I manage. And I fancy the whole theatrical profession will -feel the same way.” He drew back from the stair-foot. The disagreeable -interview was over. “There’s no good talking any more about it. -Accusations and denials don’t get us anywhere. We’ll let it rest till -I’ve made my inquiries. I’ll say good-by now and hope you’ll have a -good time in the woods.” - -He turned and walked up the hall to his room on the garden front next -the Stokes’. Joe gathered his luggage and went the opposite way, down -the hall and into the big central apartment. He stepped with gingerly -softness as if he were creeping away from something he feared might -follow him. At the entrance door he set down his luggage and as he bent -over it a whispered stream of curses flowed from his lips. He cursed -Bassett and his luck, but Sybil with a savage variety of epithet and -choice of misfortune, for she had undone him. Straightening up he -looked blankly about--his inner turmoil was such he hardly knew where -he was--and he retraced his steps, seeking the seclusion of his room, -went up the stairs in noiseless vaulting strides like a frightened -spider climbing to its web. - - - - -V - - -ANNE had taken off her costume and slipped into a negligée to do her -packing comfortably, and then decided she had better bid good-by to -Joe first. Bidding good-by was not an obligation between them, but -she had to get the key of his trunk--it was going back to New York -with hers--and her heart in its new warmth yearned to him, her only -relation. She wanted to tell him her great secret, see an answering -joy leap into his face, for he thought more of Bassett than anybody, -and he’d be so surprised to hear that Anne, her charms held at a low -valuation, had won such a prize. - -Her room was the first on the left side of the gallery, Joe’s next to -Sybil’s on the land front of the house. She passed the long line of -closed doors, voices coming from behind Mrs. Cornell’s, and reaching -Joe’s, knocked. A “Come in,” uninvitingly loud and harsh, answered her -and she entered. Joe was sitting in a low armchair, bent forward, his -hands holding a cane with which he was tapping on the floor. The bright -square of the window was behind him, framing rosy sky and the green -shore-line. He looked up to see who it was; then, without greeting or -comment, drooped his head and went on lightly striking the cane on -the carpet as if he were hammering in a nail and it required all his -attention. Anne felt dashed, his manner might have been the same to -an intruding stranger. She asked about the key, and he nodded to the -bureau where it lay. The trunk was packed and locked? To that he gave -an assenting grunt, then raised his head and looked at her--what have -you come here for, the look said. - -It was not a reception to encourage confidences and she stood -uncomfortably regarding him, trying to find something to say that would -dispel his somber ill humor. - -“You’re all ready? Where’s your luggage?” - -“Down by the door. Is there anything else you want to know?” - -“_I_ don’t want to know, I was thinking of you. You’re always late, and -it’s different here with only one way to get ashore and Gabriel never -willing to wait.” - -He made no answer, continuing his play with the cane. She knew that -something was wrong and sat down on the arm of a chair, uneasy, -wondering what it was: - -“I’m glad you’ve managed this holiday. And it’s so jolly having Jimmy -Travers, he’s such a sport. You’ll meet him to-night at Bangor. At the -Algonquin Inn--wasn’t that the name of it?” - -“Um.” - -“I want to be sure because if any important mail should come for you I -could send it there to meet you on your way back. Algonquin Inn--I’ll -remember that. Then off to-morrow morning--it’ll be lovely in the woods -now.” - -“Any place would be lovely after this beastly hole.” - -“Beastly hole! I thought you liked it!” - -“Did you? Take another guess.” - -“You expected to like it. You wanted to come.” - -He made no answer, but slanting his body sidewise with an air of -ostentatious endurance, took out his watch and looked at it. She -ignored the hint--you couldn’t be sensitive with Joe--and leaning -toward him asked: - -“What’s the matter, Joe?” - -“Matter--with what?” - -“You! Has anything happened?” - -“Oh, no, nothing’s happened.” His words were mincingly soft. “What -_could_ happen with such a charming lot of people and Miss Saunders -playing the star rôle in the performance and out.” - -It was Sybil then--he’d been working himself into a bad temper over -her treatment of him. Anne had thought it odd he had not mentioned it -before: - -“You’re angry with Sybil, and I don’t think she has been very nice -to you. I’ve noticed it, especially the last three days and this -afternoon when we were sitting out there on the rock I tried to make -her tell me why.” - -He raised his head; the profile sharply defined against the window -showed a working muscle in the cheek: “And did she tell you?” - -“No, she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. She changed the subject.” - -“How considerate!” - -“There’s no sense getting annoyed about it because I don’t think she -has any reason. You have to make excuses for her. She’s gone through -this awful experience and her nerves are all wracked to pieces. You -have to be patient and take her as a sort of afflicted person--” - -He dashed the cane down and jumped to his feet in a volcanic explosion -of rage: - -“I don’t take her that way. I take her for what she is, a damned lying -hypocrite.” - -“Joe!” She was amazed, not so much at the words, as at the suddenness -of the outburst and the contorted passion of his face. - -“She thinks she can treat me any way she wants and get away with it. -Well, she’ll find her mistake, she’s taken the wrong turning this time. -She takes me for a yellow dog she can kick whenever she feels like it. -But I got teeth, I can bite. Patient--be patient--God, I’d like to -wring her neck, the damned----.” - -He used an epithet that brought Anne to her feet, breathing battle: -“Don’t dare to say that of my friend, Joe Tracy.” - -He stood in front of her, hump-shouldered, with outthrust jaw, brows -drawn low over eyes gleaming like a cat’s. She had never seen him look -like that; he seemed a stranger, a horrible stranger, and she drew -away, aghast at the revelation of a being so sinisterly unfamiliar. -Her look brought him back to self-control. He jerked his head up, ran -a hand over his hair, and turned away to the window. Standing there he -said: - -“Well, I take that back. I didn’t mean to say it. But she’s made me -mad; I think she’d make anybody.” - -The tone, surly still, had a placating quality; it was as near an -apology as Joe could ever come. She felt immeasurably relieved for -he had frightened her. To see the family cat, whose vagaries of -temperament she knew by heart, suddenly transformed into a tiger, had -given her a shock. She accepted his amends without comment, but she -could not resist a sisterly admonition: - -“If you’d only stop getting mad over small things you’d find life so -much easier.” - -He laughed: - -“Good advice from little sister! It doesn’t cost anything and it’s the -correct _ingenue_ pose.” - -He turned from the window smiling, Joe at his most amiable. If he -had met her this way she would have poured out her secret. But her -high mood had fallen and besides he wanted her to go--he said he had -a letter to write yet. Lounging toward her he put his hands on her -shoulders, gave her a light kiss on the cheek and pushed her toward the -door. - -On her way back along the gallery she recalled his face in that -moment of rage with troubled question. She wondered if there was more -disturbing him than she knew--it was an extraordinary exhibition of -anger for such a cause. Also she had not felt sure that his change of -mood was genuine, his laugh had rung false, and when he had laid his -hands on her shoulders she had felt their coldness through the thin -stuff of her negligée. She heaved a sigh of relief at the thought that -he was going. In his present mood there was no knowing what clashes -there might be, and it was the last evening, and there would be a full -moon, and she and Bassett would walk like lovers under its magic light. - -When her door had closed, the gallery and living-room became as quiet -as though the house were unoccupied. Sybil, approaching it, heard no -sound of voices, a fact that reassured her, for the long day had tired -her and she had no mind for talk. She was coming in by the balcony when -she saw Flora Stokes sitting there reading and deflected her course -toward the path that skirted the building’s front. If Flora noticed -her she made no sign, her eyes glued to her book, and Sybil, stepping -softly, for she dreaded the woman’s resentful glances, passed along to -the entrance of the living-room. The place was deserted and she stopped -on the threshold for a last look at the sky’s fading splendors. - -Across the depths of the room the door into the hall opened, but so -gently that she did not hear it. Stokes made this noiseless entrance in -the hope that she might be there, and now, seeing his hope fulfilled, -closed the door as carefully, standing against it watching her. - -If the conventional garb of the street was not as becoming to his -darkly Byronic style as the trappings of the Duke, he was still -unusually handsome. A figure of distinction in its lean grace, with -proud hawk features and the deep-set melancholy eyes that the matinée -girl loves. Even his pallor had charm in their opinion, adding to his -romantic suggestion. Gull Island sun and breezes had left no trace upon -it; his face against the background of the door was a yellowish white. - -Seeing that she did not turn he pronounced her name. At that she -wheeled, lightning-quick, and came forward from beneath the deep jut of -the gallery assuming as unconcerned a manner as she could. - -“Lovely evening,” she said as she advanced. “It’s been hard to come in.” - -“Evidently from the length of time you stayed out there. I’ve been -waiting for you.” - -It was not a propitious beginning, especially as he still stood against -the door as if intending to bar her exit. - -“I’m going up-stairs to dress now.” - -“There’s plenty of time. You can give me a few minutes. I’ve something -I want to say to you.” - -“Oh, Aleck!” She stopped with an air of weary expostulation. “_Don’t_ -say anything more. _Don’t_ begin that dreadful subject. I’m sick of it, -I loathe it and _can’t_ you see it isn’t any use?” - -He went on as if he hadn’t heard her: - -“I’ve been trying for days, ever since I came here. And you keep -avoiding me, always having some one with you. Now we’ll be going -to-morrow, we may not have another chance, and I must see you and tell -you”--he stopped and looked at the gallery. “Did I hear a step up -there?” - -She had heard nothing and thought it odd that he should be so suddenly -cautious. Discretion had been the last quality he had heretofore shown. - -“I _have_ avoided you and I’m going to continue doing it. Please move -away from the door. It’s silly to stand in front of it for I can go -round by the garden, but I’m tired and I don’t want to.” - -He came forward, speaking as he advanced. - -“This isn’t what you think. I’m done with that. You’ve made me -understand, you’ve got it across, Sybil. I’m not going to bother you -any more with that subject you loathe and think so dreadful. But I -can’t help loving you and wanting to help you.” She gave an exasperated -gesture and made a move to pass him. As she did so, he said: “I’ve -heard something of Jim Dallas.” - -She stopped as if all animating force had been stricken out of her, a -“What?” expelled on a caught breath. - -“Just before I left town I met an actor who says he saw him.” - -“Are you telling me the truth?” - -“Why should I lie? What do I gain by it? I swore the fellow to secrecy -and came up here to tell you and I’ve been trying----” - -She broke in: “Was he sure? Where was it?” - -The change in her manner would have crushed the hope in any man. -Shunning him like a leper, she now drew close and laid her hand on his -arm. - -“I can’t tell you here. It’s too dangerous, too many people coming and -going.” - -“It _was_ Jim?” - -“It _was_. It’s quite a story, more than just seeing him. But we’ve got -to get somewhere away from all these damned doors----” - -One of them opened--that into the hall behind them. They heard it and -wheeled round, faces sharp-set in defensive interrogation. It was -Flora Stokes. She rested on the threshold looking at them, and Stokes, -his senses more alert than the girl’s, withdrew his arm from her clasp. - -“Oh, Flora,” he said, his voice supremely light and easy. “Were you -looking for me?” - -Mrs. Stokes said no, she had come to put her book back. She walked -slowly to a table and placed her book on the corner. The room was very -still as she did this. Stokes, his hands deep in his pockets, moved -his head, following her progress as if it roused his curiosity. The -girl stood without a sound, the scene passing under her eyes with a -mirage-like unreality. - -“It seems I’ve intruded,” said Mrs. Stokes, each syllable meticulously -clear and precise. “But if you want to be alone I should think you’d -have chosen another place.” - -“Having chosen this is a pretty good proof we didn’t want to be alone,” -retorted her husband. - -She gave a light jeering sound of disbelief and walked to the entrance. -On the sill she turned and looked at them with smoldering eyes: - -“Don’t be afraid I’ll stay. I’m going for a walk on the front of the -island. That’s as far away as I can get; I’d go farther if I could.” - -She passed out of the door and Stokes turned to the girl: - -“There--that’s what I was afraid of. Some of the rest of them may come -in at any minute. We’ve got to get out of here, some place outside.” - -“The Point--the summer-house. I’ll go down there now--you follow me.” - -She ran to the entrance, he at her heels. Walking leisurely up the -path to the summer-house was Shine. She threw out her hands with a -distracted gesture and struck a foot on the floor in a frantic stamp. -Stokes smothered an oath. “Tell me here,” she implored, but he answered -with an imperative shake of the head. - -“The garden.” She was half-way across the room before he caught her up, -and this time it was he who laid his hand on her arm: - -“Sybil, have some sense. You’ll get us in wrong every way. You don’t -want any of these people to see us out there whispering together. -That’s just the place they’ll go while they’re waiting round for -supper. Listen now, get a hold on yourself. Jim’s safety is more -important than your anxiety. That photographer chap’s just strolling -round killing time; he’ll move on from there presently. Go up to your -room and wait. You can see the Point from your window. If he’s gone by -seven, come down and go along to the summer-house. I’ll watch too and -I’ll meet you there.” - -She opened her lips for a last protest, then evidently seeing there -was nothing else for it, gave out a groaning “All right” and left the -room. He followed her, saw her mount the stairs, and walked out on the -balcony. It was exquisitely still, the colors paling, the pines black -and motionless as if painted on the orange sky. He could see the figure -of his wife moving slowly toward the ocean bluffs. A newspaper lay on a -table near him and he took it up, slumping down in his chair as one who -relinquishes himself to a regained interest, but he did not read. - - - - -VI - - -ANNE packed for a space, then gave it up. She couldn’t go on with it, -she wanted to be down-stairs, not lose one minute of the last evening -at Gull Island. Her spirits, oppressed by Joe’s behavior, began to -bubble again, foam up in sparkling effervescence. You couldn’t pack -clothes in a trunk when you felt like dancing and the hour was too -beautiful for belief and your lover might be waiting for you in the -garden. She slipped off her negligée and chose her most becoming dress, -leaf-green crêpe that made her look slim as a reed and turned her skin -to ivory. She smoothed the black satin of her hair and hung round her -neck the chain of green beads she had bought for a dollar but you’d -never guess it. And she figured in front of the glass, studying her -reflection this way and that, trying to see herself with new eyes and -judge if she was a girl a man might be proud of. - -While thus engaged she heard the chug-chug of the launch. It must -be Joe going, and anxious to see the departure of that darkling and -uncomfortable spirit she went to the window. It looked out across the -slant of roofs that covered the kitchen wing and commanded a side-view -of the channel. Across the swift-sweeping current the boat came into -view, skimming forward like a home-faring bird. Anne leaned over the -sill, following it with startled eyes--where was Joe? There was Gabriel -in front at the wheel, but in the back--she stretched her neck trying -to see to the bottom of the cock-pit, there certainly was no one on the -seat. - -“Oh, _could_ he have missed it?” she groaned and cast up her eyes as if -invoking the protection of Heaven against such a calamity. - -But he couldn’t have, he wanted to go, it was his holiday and he -thought Gull Island was a beastly hole. He must have been where she -couldn’t see him. It was difficult to think where this might be--but -he _might_ have been bending down to put something in his suit-case. -A chair could have hidden him. She remembered what he had said about -leaving his baggage at the living-room entrance. If it was still there -then he had missed the boat and she ran down-stairs, hoping with a -prayerful earnestness that she would not find it. It was not there. -“Then he _is_ gone,” she said to herself with a satisfied nod and drew -a freer breath. The weight lifted, she went across to the garden where -she might find Bassett, and as she covered the space between the doors -the picture of the launch rose on her inner vision with Gabriel the -only visible occupant. - -Bassett was not in the garden, but Shine was, sauntering into view from -the balcony end. He’d been loafing about he said, just come up from the -Point. He’d been all round it, wonderful down there now and going to -be more wonderful, and he pointed to a pale glow on the horizon where -the moon was rising. They strolled about on the lanes of turf between -the massed colors of parterre and border, the air languishingly sweet -with the scent of the closing flowers. Then they went in, luxuriously -embedding themselves in two vast armchairs. Bassett found them here -and tried to look genial at the sight of Shine. He’d been writing some -letters in his own room and he dropped into a third armchair with the -sigh of well-earned rest. - -They talked about the moon and moonlight effects. Shine wanted to take -some photographs after supper, get the pines against the sea and the -silvered bulk of the Point, and he spoke of his flashlight picture -which they’d have as a remembrance of Gull Island. Anne said that was a -jolly idea, but she didn’t think they’d need a picture to remind them -of their stay, and she and Bassett exchanged a smile. - -It was still on their lips when a sound came from outside, a single -sharp detonation. It fell upon the evening’s tranquil hush, sudden and -startling, like something alien and unrelated. - -“What was that?” said Anne. - -“Sounds like a shot,” Shine thought. - -“It couldn’t be!” Bassett got up. “Nobody has a pistol here and if he -had he couldn’t use it--one of the special stipulations Driscoll made -when he lent us the place.” - -He moved to the land entrance and looked out. - -“What could it have been?” Anne looked questioningly at Shine, who, -having no other suggestion to offer, shrugged and shook his head. - -The door of Mrs. Cornell’s room opened on the gallery and Miss Pinkney -emerged, Mrs. Cornell behind her. - -“Mr. Bassett,” she cried, a hand on the railing. “Where’s Mr. Bassett?” - -Bassett drew out from under the gallery and looked up at her: - -“Did you hear that?” - -“I did and I told you that Mr. Driscoll never allowed any shooting on -the premises.” - -“Do you think that was a shot?” - -“Well, what else was it?” - -Mrs. Cornell, leaning comfortably on the railing, suggested that it -might be an auto tire. - -This drew a snort from Miss Pinkney: - -“How’d a motor get here--swim or fly?” Then to Bassett: “Mr. Driscoll’s -very strict about that. He won’t have the wild game or the gulls -disturbed and----” - -Bassett interrupted her: - -“That’s all right, Miss Pinkney. We were given those orders and we’ve -obeyed them. And none of us could shoot here if he wanted to--there’s -not a pistol in the outfit. Don’t you know it’s against the law to -carry one?” - -“Then some one’s taken mine,” she exclaimed, and straightening up with -an air of battle, “I’m coming down.” - -She left the gallery for the rear stairs, Mrs. Cornell in her wake. - -“What does she mean--hers?” Anne asked. - -“I don’t know what she means,” Bassett looked irritated. “It’s the -first I’ve heard of it.” - -“I don’t see what there was to shoot at anyhow,” came from Shine. -“Looked to me when I was out there as if all the gulls had gone to bed.” - -Miss Pinkney, entering, focussed their attention. - -“What’s this about a pistol of yours?” Bassett asked. - -She answered as she walked across the room to a desk under the gallery: - -“It’s the one Mr. Driscoll gave me, thinking it might be useful when I -was here alone, opening or closing the house. I was to keep it loaded -and have it handy, but I’d trust my tongue to get rid of any man and -here it’s lain with the poker chips.” She pulled out a side-drawer of -the desk. “There!” she exclaimed, turning on them in gloomy triumph, -“What did I tell you! It’s gone.” - -Bassett looked into the drawer: - -“You’re sure it was here?” - -“Didn’t I see it this morning when I put away the counters you were -playing with last night?” - -“Umph!” Bassett banged the drawer shut in anger. “I’ll see that this -is explained to Mr. Driscoll. And whoever’s taken it, they’ll get -what’s coming to them. A damned fool performance! To get us in wrong -just as we were leaving----” - -The hall door opened and Stokes entered. - -“Who’s shooting round here?” he said. “I thought it was taboo.” - -“That’s just what we want to know. Where were you?” - -“Sitting out on the balcony.” - -“See anybody?” - -“No. I’ve been looking about. I went down the path to the pine grove -and round the house but I didn’t see a soul.” - -“Why, who could it be?” said Anne. “Aren’t we all”--she looked over the -standing figures--“No, we’re not all here. Who’s outside?” - -“Mrs. Stokes is.” Shine spoke up. “I saw her walking along the ocean -bluffs as I came up from the Point.” - -“Sybil is, too,” Mrs. Cornell added. “She went out just a few minutes -ago. I saw her from my window.” - -“It can’t be either of them.” Bassett’s vexation had given place to a -sudden uneasiness. “I don’t understand. Nobody could have come over -from the mainland with the tide up. I’ll go out there----” - -A sound from outside stopped him. It was a cry in a woman’s voice, -close by. - -“What’s that?” some one said, and before an answer could come, the cry -rose again--a high wailing scream carrying words: - -“Sybil! Sybil! Sybil’s dead--Sybil’s killed!” - -A clamorous mingling of voices rose from the group, combined in a -single up-swelling note of horror. The men rushed for the entrance and -met Flora Stokes. She burst in between them, white as the ghost of -Cæsar, with her opened mouth a dark cavity. - -“Sybil’s murdered--dead--shot.” Each word was projected in a screaming -gasp. - -Bassett shouted at her, “Where?” - -And she waved an arm toward the channel. - -“There--from the Point. She’s gone--she’s dead! She went over into the -water. On the top of the cliff. She’s murdered--dead--murdered!” - -As if she were dead, too, and of no more consequence, they fled past -her--a line of people streaming out into the serene evening that held -a hideous catastrophe. Only Anne stayed, her face as if overlaid by a -coating of white paint. She went to Flora and seized her by the arm. - -“Who was it?” she whispered. “Who did it?” - -The woman looked at her at first as if not knowing who she was. Then -jerking her arm free, clasped her hands against the sides of her head -and went across the room staring upward and crying out: - -“I don’t know. I didn’t see---- It’s God’s truth, I don’t know.” - -Anne ran out after the others. - - - - -VII - - -THE moon had risen and hung on the edge of the sky like a great disk -of white paper. Anne saw the others running this way and that along -the edge of the Point. A boat was pushing out from the dock, Stokes -in it, and, caught by the current, it shot down the gleaming surface -of the channel. There were cries in men’s voices and Stokes’ answer, -bell-clear from the water. Then Shine ran by her, back to the house, -grim-visaged with staring eyes. The scene had the fantastic quality of -a nightmare, the solemn splendors of the setting and the gesticulating, -shouting figures darting about like grotesque silhouettes. - -She ran on through the pine wood up the path beyond. Mrs. Cornell met -her, tried to speak with chattering teeth, but ended in a scream and -fell upon her shoulder. Over her head Anne saw Bassett flying down the -slope to the wharf. Then presently boats moving out from Hayworth. They -came with incredible speed, sliding forward in a group that spread and -broke into units scattering across the channel. Here they sped back and -forth, up and down, swift black shapes that seemed to be executing some -complicated maneuvers along the glittering track of moonlight. She was -aware of Bassett’s figure leaving the wharf and racing to the house, of -Shine thudding by and calling: - -“They’re here already! I got some one on the wire and I told him to go -like hell.” - -Miss Pinkney’s voice answered him from the edge of the Point where she -stood like a black basalt statue: - -“Oh, they’re here, all right. Every feller that has a boat’s out. But -it’s no use; no one who’s ever got caught in _that_ current’s been -found.” - -Shine muttered an invocation and came to a stop. They all stood -speechless staring at the boats--the boats looking for Sybil who half -an hour ago was alive like themselves and now was--where? - -As soon as he saw the fleet in operation, Bassett ran to the house. He -had to find Flora and get fuller information from her before he called -up the police, and not seeing her outside, he supposed she was still -there. The great room was almost dark. He felt for one of the standard -lamps and pulled the string. The gush of light fell directly over her, -close to him, sunk in an armchair, as still as if she, too, had ceased -to live. He had expected difficulties in getting a coherent statement -from her, but she told him what she had seen, briefly and clearly, as -if she had known he was coming and was ready for him. - -She had skirted the island and come to that part of the path which -faced the Point. A hollow intervened, extending to the water’s edge -in a mass of shelving rock. Across this hollow she saw Sybil appear -on the end of the Point, coming up from the opposite side, and almost -immediately heard the shot. Sybil had thrown up her arms, staggered -forward and gone over the bluff. It all happened in a flash and Flora, -though describing herself as dazed, had run down the path into the -hollow and out on the rocks thinking she could catch her. But she saw -the body go swirling by--far out of her reach, caught and borne along -in the current. She had watched it, stunned, then had come to her -senses and staggered back to the shore--she thought she had fallen more -than once--and ran to the house. On the way there she had seen no one -and heard nothing. - -Bassett left her and went to the library to call up Forestville, the -county seat. He knew the place well--a small town on the edge of -northern solitudes. It was the starting point for hunting parties to -New Brunswick, and Bassett, a sportsman in his leisure hours, had -stayed there several times assembling his guides and gear. On his last -trip, two years ago, trouble with a guide had brought him in contact -with the sheriff, Abel Williams. Over legal wrangling they had struck -up a friendship and he remembered Williams as a man of some capacity, -straight and fair-minded. If he was still in office it would simplify -matters; to start out with confidence in the director would be a vital -gain. He waited, the receiver against his ear, a foot drumming on the -carpet, then a deep and growling voice hummed along the wire. It was -Abel Williams. - -Williams would be down as soon as he could, with Mr. Rawson, the -district-attorney--an hour and a half to two hours, the roads being -bad. The shore people had been told it was an accident--that’s all -right, couldn’t hold an inquest anyway without a body and it was a good -thing to keep ’em off. Better not let anything come out till they’d got -the situation in hand, easy to fix at that end as the United American -Press man was off fishing. They’d do a good deal better if the press -was held off for a spell. The place was small, they’d clutter it up, -tramp out foot-prints, get in the way searching for clues. Seeing where -the island was and that there was no one on it but their own crowd, it -would be possible to keep things out of the public eye till they had -the work well started. - -Bassett looked at his watch--nearly eight--probably two hours to wait. -The best thing he could do was to get them together and keep them as -quiet as he could. As he went down the path his mind collected and -marshalled in order the facts he would have to present. They had all -been in the house except Stokes on the balcony and Flora walking round -the island. Stokes eaten into by a hopeless love, Flora on fire with -jealousy and hate--passions that make for murder. “God, what’s going to -be the end of this?” he groaned to himself. - -He found them in a group near the pine grove, excitedly conferring -together. They had been back and forth to the house and the wharf, some -aimlessly running about, others trying to do something intelligent and -helpful. Stokes had just returned with the electric torch and they were -preparing to search the ground for foot-prints. Bassett brought their -activities to an end and shepherded them to the house. With dragging -feet and lowered heads they trailed up the path and filed into the -living-room. - -Here, under the radiance of the lights, they looked at one another as -if expecting to see startling changes and fell groaning into chairs, -or sat, stiff and upright, with rigid muscles. The effect of the shock -showed in Mrs. Cornell, Stokes and Shine, in a sudden outburst of -loquacity. They went over and over it, what they were saying, where -they were, what had entered their minds when they heard the shot. -“And I thought to myself,” sentence after sentence started that way. -Then the feverish talk began to die. Bassett had told them when the -authorities might be expected and as the hour drew near, dread of the -drama in which they found themselves stilled their tongues. The sea -breeze, freighted with the acrid odors of uncovered mud and seaweed, -blew through the room. Bassett rose and closed the garden door, and -eyes shifted to him, hung on his hand as it slid the bolt. - -“What are you shutting the door for?” Mrs. Cornell quavered. - -“I thought there was too much draught.” - -“Oh, what does that matter,” she wailed, “with Sybil killed and -floating out to sea?” - -She broke into loud hiccoughing sobs. Stokes shifted in his chair and -snarled out: - -“Can’t you stop making that noise?” - -Bassett crossed to where Anne was sitting by the entrance. She had her -back to the room and was looking out at the lights of Hayworth dotting -the shore. He stood behind her chair and put his hand on her shoulder. -Her fingers stole up and rested on his, icy cold. He bent till his head -was close to hers and whispered: - -“Bear up. Thank God this can’t touch you in any way.” - -Her fingers pressed an answer but she said nothing. - -Shine came toward them: “Those fellers were lucky who got off this -afternoon. I might have gone with them if I’d had the sense.” - -Anne answered this time: - -“Yes, they were more fortunate than we are.” - -Mrs. Cornell, her sobs under control, spoke up: - -“But even if we _were_ here they can’t suspect us. We’ve got alibis, -we’re all accounted for. We were all in----” - -She realized where she was going and stopped. There was a portentous -silence. Shine almost shouted, pointing out at the channel: - -“The tide’s falling fast. They can’t get into the dock here. How will -they make a landing?” - -Bassett answered: - -“In a cove at the upper end of the island. They’ve a dock there for low -water. They have to make a detour, that’s all.” - -Flora, who had been sitting with her hand over her eyes, dropped it -and sat erect. Her breath came from her in a loud exhalation that -was almost a groan. Every pair of eyes shifted to her, watchful, -questioning, apprehensive. - -“Do you feel ill, Flora?” said Bassett, moving to her side. - -“No--no,” she looked wildly about. “But this waiting--it’s so awful.” - -Miss Pinkney suggested a glass of water, but Flora waved a hand as if -pushing it away. Stokes rose and moved to a seat beside her. - -“They’ll be here soon now.” - -She sank back and closed her eyes. Her husband bent a somber, sidewise -look toward her, then laid his hand on one of hers. Her own turned and -the thin fingers twined like clinging roots about his. - -“It won’t be hard,” he reassured. “Just give them a clear account of -what you saw.” - -She waved the other hand in front of her face, like a person in -unendurable pain, who makes a vague distracted gesture for silence. - -Anne spoke from the door: - -“There’s a light moving out from the shore.” - -The statement shook them. There was a simultaneous stir of feet and -bodies, a heave of labored breaths. - -Bassett went to the entrance: - -“Yes--that’s a launch. They’re coming. I must go to meet them.” - -He looked over the company, the haggard faces all turned toward him. -Some of them wore an expression of yearning appeal as if he was their -only source of strength in this devastating hour: - -“Now remember there’s nothing to get scared or rattled about. -They’ll ask you questions and what you must do is to answer them -accurately--not what you think or imagine but what you _know_. Keep -that in the front of your minds. The clearer you are in your statements -the quicker you’ll get through. And please stay here, just as you are. -They’ll probably want to see you right off.” - -A benumbed silence followed his departure. Anne moved from the door to -a chair nearer the others. Stokes withdrew his hand from Flora’s and -straightened himself, jerking down his waistcoat and craning his neck -up from his collar. The low rippling murmurs of the receding tide were -singularly distinct. Suddenly the shrill whistle of a launch pierced -the night outside. Mrs. Cornell leaped as if the sound had been a -weapon that had stabbed her: - -“Oh!” she cried, “why do they do that? Isn’t Sybil being murdered -enough to stand!” - -“For Christ’s sake, keep your mouth shut,” Stokes flung at her, glaring. - -The savage quality in his voice penetrated Mrs. Cornell’s encasing -terrors. She shrunk and slid the look of a frightened animal at Shine. -Then the silence settled and they sat like those who have looked upon -the head of Medusa. - - - - -VIII - - -BASSETT on the wharf in the cove watched the launch approaching over -the glistening floor of water. As it grated against the boards he heard -his name in a deep-throated bass voice and the big body of the sheriff -climbed over the side. A rough padded hand grasped his, and “Well, Mr. -Bassett, the law’s got us together again,” was growled into his ear. - -Two more figures followed him. One was Rawson, the district-attorney, -whom the vivid light revealed as a man much younger than Williams, -tall and narrow-shouldered, with a lean New England visage and a pair -of horn spectacles astride a high-bridged nose. The other was disposed -of with a casual hand-wave and a murmur of “Patrick,” brought, it was -explained, to take charge of the causeway. Rawson, it appeared, knew -Gull Island well, having been there several times on legal business -for Mr. Driscoll. - -As they walked back Bassett told his story. He noticed that the younger -man’s questions were sharp and to the point and before they had gone -half-way realized that Rawson was of a much higher grade of education -and intelligence than his coadjutor. A smart chap, he thought, and felt -his burden lightened--they could do good teamwork. Stopping by the edge -of the pine wood he pointed out the scene of the shooting and was again -struck by the man’s quick comprehension. - -Moving on, Williams observed with grim relish: - -“You couldn’t have a murder committed in a better place than -this--better for us. Once you’re on here it’s a damned hard business -getting off. These folks are as good as in prison. Now, Mr. Bassett, -just where does that causeway lie?” - -The channel stretched before them, a shining expanse, ripple-creased, -summits of rock emerging. The receding water was like a silver veil -being slowly withdrawn, its delicate tissue torn by sharp-edged -projections. Bassett pointed beyond the wharf: - -“There! Below the water there are steps cut in the rock that lead down -to it. It goes straight across to a breakwater and landing outside the -village, a bank and a belt of trees above. The whole stretch won’t be -clear till nearly midnight.” - -Williams gave his instructions to the man Patrick--a watch on the -causeway, any one stopped who came from the mainland or attempted to -leave the island. Patrick, a silent massive countryman, with a stolid -bull-dog face, thrust out his chin and nodded. He slouched off, the -sound of his heavy boots loud on the rocks. The others turned toward -the house, the light from its opened door falling outward in a long -golden square. - -The occupants of the room heard them and looked at one another. Mrs. -Cornell, with clenched hands, slowly stood up, and the rest, like -people in church who see a figure rise and simultaneously follow its -example, got to their feet. They stood by their chairs, motionless, all -facing the same way. It was like an ensemble scene in a theater. - -The three men entered and under the shadow of the gallery paused for a -moment surveying the standing figures much as they might have looked at -some spectacle arranged for their approval. William was surprised at -their number and their line ranged like a battle front. Rawson’s sharp -eye ran over the faces, mentally ticketing them, and Bassett, with no -precedent to guide him, walked toward his associates and announced: - -“Ladies and gentlemen, the authorities have come. Mr. Rawson and Mr. -Williams.” - -They bowed and then not knowing what to do next, subsided into their -seats. The men came forward, moving to the long table where Williams -sat down, fumbling in his pocket for a fountain pen and paper and -clearing a space for the taking of notes. Rawson, surveying the seated -assemblage, said: - -“This is the whole of your company, Mr. Bassett?” - -“All who were here at the time of the murder. Several of the actors and -assistants left at five-thirty and Joe Tracy, one of the company at a -quarter to seven.” - -“You saw them go?” - -“I saw the first lot go. I didn’t see Tracy. But,” he looked at Anne, -“this is his sister, Miss Tracy. She probably did.” - -“Did you, Miss Tracy?” said Rawson. - -Her voice was very low but steady and clear: - -“Yes, he went.” - -“Well, that disposes of them,” said Rawson, and drawing up a chair, sat -down facing the line of solemn people. - -There were a few formalities to go through. A general agreement on the -time of the murder--a few minutes before seven disposed of that, and -the interrogation of Mrs. Stokes, the one eyewitness, followed. - -She began well, telling the story she had told Bassett. When she -described her first view of Sybil running to the edge of the Point, -Rawson interrupted with a question: - -“Was she running fast, as if some one was after her, as if she was -frightened?” - -“Yes, she was running fast but I don’t know whether she was frightened. -I wasn’t close enough to see anything like that, and I didn’t have time -to see. Just as I was looking at her the shot came.” - -“Did you notice the direction it came from?” - -“No--it was like a sort of loud snap in the air. I heard it and she -staggered along a few steps and went over.” - -“Did you hear any sounds--footsteps? A person makes a noise on this -rocky ground.” - -“I didn’t hear a thing.” She leaned toward Rawson with haggard -insistence. “I _couldn’t_ hear anything. I was stunned. Mr. Bassett -asked me that and you all seem to think I ought to have heard the -person--the murderer--or tried to catch him. But I hadn’t any sense, I -just stood there paralyzed, not grasping what had happened.” - -“Mr. Bassett says you went out on the rocks and tried to catch the -body.” - -“Oh, yes. _Then_ I came back to life. I ran down into the hollow and -out on the rocks as far as I could go. And she was going by on the -current--her hair and her dress all whirled about. Oh God, why was I -the one to see it!” - -Stokes addressed her, his voice low and urgent: - -“Flora, just try to answer quietly.” - -She paid no attention to him, her eyes riveted on Rawson. - -“And then you came back to the house?” - -“Yes, but I stood there watching her for a few minutes. I don’t know -how long, desperate, not knowing what to do. And then I started to run -back here and I fell down. I suppose I was shaking so and the rocks -were slippery. I think I fell twice, but I don’t know. I seemed to be -half-crazy.” - -“You saw or heard nothing on your way back?” - -“No, no, I keep telling you,” her voice grew higher. “I _never_ saw -anybody. If anybody was there he must have been hiding. They could -have heard me--I was screaming.” She turned to the others. “Wasn’t I -screaming?” - -Bassett confirmed her statement and she went on, her voice still -higher, the cords in her neck starting out: - -“Of course they heard me and hid--got out of the way. Some stranger. -We were all in the house, everybody here was in the house. It couldn’t -have been any of them.” - -Stokes half rose: “Flora--_please_!” - -She turned violently on him: - -“Why shouldn’t I say it? I’m not afraid. I was the only person outside -and it couldn’t have been me.” She faced round on Rawson. “Nobody could -think that. Ask them--these people. They’ll tell you.” - -“That’s not at all necessary, Mrs. Stokes.” Rawson was mild and suave. -“Now if you’ll try to be calm----” - -“Calm, calm,” she groaned and bent almost double, dropping her face -into her hands. Stokes got up, chalk-white in the lamplight: - -“My wife’s pretty well knocked out, Mr. Rawson.” - -“Quite understandable, Mr. Stokes. We won’t trouble her any more just -now. And if the rest of you ladies and gentlemen will refrain from -saying what you think or offering suggestions we’ll get on a good deal -quicker.” - -Stokes took his chair. Flora raised herself and dropped against -the back of hers with upraised chin and closed eyes. Bassett had a -photographic impression of Williams, striking softly on his teeth with -his fountain pen and looking at her. - -They went on to Stokes who was very clear and composed. He had walked -about--down the path to the pine wood and round that end of the house. -It was absolutely still and he had heard nobody. He was not sure of the -direction of the shot as he had been reading a paper at the time. Like -the rest of them he had had no suspicion of anything serious or, of -course, he would have investigated. - -Everybody else was in the house. Bassett indicated their positions, -pointing them out as he explained their whereabouts. - -Miss Saunders’ movements followed. She had spent the earlier part of -the evening sitting on the cliffs with Miss Tracy. Miss Tracy had left -her some time after six, Miss Saunders saying she would follow but -wanted to see the end of the sunset. No one had seen her come back but -she had come back, for shortly before seven Mrs. Cornell had noticed -her leaving the house. - -Mrs. Cornell, invested with the grisly excitement of the hour, was -eager to tell what she knew. She had been standing at the window of -her room, and she saw Sybil on the path below passing the end of the -balcony. Mrs. Cornell was surprised for it was not far from supper-time -and Sybil was still in her Viola dress. She had not watched her, but -had gone back to lock the trunk. Both she and Miss Pinkney agreed -that the shot had followed soon after--about six or seven minutes they -thought. - -They diverged to the place of the murder, the Point. The last person -who had been there was Shine, somewhere round six-thirty, though he -couldn’t swear to the time. He’d stayed there perhaps ten minutes, -walking round, and had then gone up to the garden. As far as he could -see the place was deserted. In answer to the question had he seen any -one on his way back, he said he had seen Mrs. Stokes walking along the -ocean bluffs and Mr. Stokes reading a paper on the balcony. - -This ended the interrogations for the time being. The company was told -they might retire to their rooms. But they were to understand that they -were held on Gull Island for the present, no going off on any pretext -or holding communication with any one on the mainland. Also--and Mr. -Rawson was emphatic--once in their rooms they were to stay in them -unless sent for by him. He did not want any wandering about in the -halls or talking together. - -They rose weariedly and prepared to go. Stokes helped his wife to her -feet and Bassett edged between the chairs toward Anne. - -“How are you?” he murmured, for her appearance shocked him. - -“All right. There’s nothing the matter with me.” - -“Try to get some rest.” - -“Will they want us any more to-night?” - -“I don’t think so--not you anyway.” - -Stokes and Flora moved toward the hall door, the woman limply hanging -on her husband’s arm. Rawson’s voice arrested them: - -“Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, just wait a minute.” - -Everybody stopped in mid-transit, holding their positions as if they -were standing to be photographed. - -“Where is your room or rooms?” - -“We’re together in a room on this floor out in the hall here opposite -the stairs.” - -“I’d rather Mrs. Stokes went up to the second floor.” He turned to -Bassett, “You have space up there I suppose?” - -“Space!” It came from Miss Pinkney before Bassett had time to -answer--these hirelings of the law did not realize where they were. -“We’ve put up more people here than you could get into one of those -flea-bitten hotels up your way.” - -“Take her things up there. You help her.” - -Flora turned stricken eyes on her husband. He said nothing but very -gently loosened her fingers on his arm. They trailed away, Miss Pinkney -stalking ahead. Mrs. Cornell and Anne made their exit by the opposite -door. Both were silent as they climbed the stairs. Mrs. Cornell’s door -opened and closed on her, and Anne fared on to hers on the side stretch -of the gallery. She looked down into the lighted room, saw Shine move -toward the entrance, heard his voice, loud and startled: - -“Why, there’s some one down by the dock!” - -The other men wheeled sharply, on the alert. She stopped, head bent, -listening. - -“Patrick--the damned fool.” It was Williams. “Told to watch the -causeway and standing up there like a lighthouse.” - -“Oh, it’s your man. I’ll go down and tell him.” Shine wanted to help -all he could before his retirement to the butler’s bedroom. “He ought -to be where he won’t show, is that it?” - -“Yes, tell him to stow his carcass somewhere out of sight. He ain’t -there to advertise the fact he’s on guard.” - -“If he gets in the shadow under the roof of the boat-house,” said -Bassett, “he can command the whole length of it and not be seen from -either side.” - -“That’s the dope. The neck of this bottle’s the causeway and it’s going -to be corked good and tight to-night.” - -Anne’s door closed without a sound. - -The three men turned back from the entrance. “Is that woman gone -up-stairs yet?” Rawson murmured to his assistant as Williams stepped to -the middle of the room and watched the gallery. He continued to watch -it till Flora and Miss Pinkney appeared and finally were shut away -behind their several doors, then he looked at Rawson and nodded. - -“Now,” said the district-attorney to Bassett, “I want you to show me -where that pistol was.” - -Bassett indicated the desk: - -“In the third drawer of the desk. Miss Pinkney is certain it was there -this morning.” - -“And you know it wasn’t there when you looked after the shooting?” -Rawson went to the desk as he spoke. - -“I can swear it wasn’t.” - -Rawson pulled out the drawer and thrust in his hand. - -“Well, it’s here now,” he said, and drew out a revolver. - -He held it toward them on his palm. They stared at it, for the moment -too surprised for comment. Rawson broke it open; there was one empty -chamber. - -“Can we get into some room where there’s more privacy than this -place?” he said. “I want some more talk with you, Mr. Bassett.” - -Bassett directed them to the library. He put out the living-room lights -and followed them. - - - - -IX - - -BASSETT was prepared for what he had to tell. During the long wait for -the officers of the law his mind had been ranging over it, shaking -bare from unnecessary detail the chain of events that had ended in -murder. It was impossible to conceal the situation between Sybil and -the Stokeses; he could not if he had wished it and he did not wish -it. A girl had been brutally done to death, a girl innocent of any -evil intention, and his desire to bring her murderer to justice was -as strong as either Williams’ or Rawson’s. And they could get the -facts better from him than from the muddled stories of the others, -their minds clouded by prejudice and hearsay. He hoped that what he -said would be coldly unbiased, the naked truth as he knew it. That his -revelations would involve a woman whom he liked and pitied would not -induce him to withhold what ought to be known. Chivalry had no place -in this grim drama. As he had discharged his duties as director of a -theatrical company rent by passions and dissensions, he now prepared to -discharge them as the most responsible and fair-minded member of the -group. - -Sitting by the desk in the library he unveiled the situation, what he -had heard, seen and knew. The men gave an unwinking attention, now and -then stopping him to plant a question. The trend of Williams’ thoughts -was soon revealed--he suspected Flora Stokes. When the matter was -threshed out he came to an open admission with the remark: - -“Well, you have only one person here who had the provocation necessary -to commit murder.” - -Bassett made no answer. If his duty required him to tell all he knew, -it did not require him to give his own opinions. - -Rawson who was smoking, his long, loose-jointed frame slouched down in -an armchair, took his cigar from his mouth: - -“Of course the woman’s the first person you’d think of. She had the -necessary provocation and the state of mind. But the way she came in -and told them--as Mr. Bassett describes it--doesn’t look to me like a -guilty person.” - -“Why not?” - -“Sounds too genuine, too like real excitement.” - -“Don’t you think it’s natural to get excited if you’ve killed some one?” - -“Yes, but not just that way.” - -Williams leaned over the arm of his chair: - -“You got to remember something about these people, Rawson--and it -counts big--they’re all actors.” - -Bassett spoke up quickly: - -“No, she wasn’t acting. You’d have known that if you’d seen her. What -she did was natural--a woman suffering from a fearful shock.” - -“Couldn’t an actor put that on?” - -“Yes, some could, but I’m certain she wasn’t.” - -“When Stokes came into the room after the shot,” said Rawson, “how did -he behave?” - -“He seemed all right. But I can’t honestly say that I noticed him much. -The light was fading and I was so irritated by the thought that some -one had been shooting that I didn’t pay any attention to him.” - -“Oh, rubbish!” Williams made a rolling motion in the scoop of the big -chair. “You can’t suspect the man; he was in love with her. He didn’t -want to kill her, he wanted to keep her alive.” - -“Men _do_ kill the women they love, especially when they can’t get her.” - -“Yes, they do. I’ve known of such cases. But that’s impulse. This was -premeditated.” The sheriff pointed at the revolver lying on the desk. -“Sometime to-day somebody located that gun, took it for a purpose--not -to shoot sea-gulls as you thought, Mr. Bassett.” - -Rawson looked at the pistol: - -“Premeditation, all right. Was there anybody in the outfit who didn’t -know you’d opened that drawer and found the revolver gone?” - -Bassett considered: - -“Stokes didn’t know. He came in after I’d shut the drawer. I didn’t -speak of it because just as I’d got through asking him if he’d seen any -one, we heard Mrs. Stokes’ scream.” - -“And _she_ didn’t, of course,” commented Williams. - -“While you were running round at the Point the house was empty?” - -“I think Mrs. Stokes was here all the time. I never saw her outside.” - -“Any of the others come up?” - -“I’m not certain of all of them. I know Shine did; I sent him back to -phone over to Hayworth for the boats. And Stokes did, he came up for -the electric torch when I was in here telephoning to you.” - -“Then neither of them knew the loss of the revolver had been discovered -and they had plenty of opportunity to return it to the desk?” - -Bassett nodded, and after a minute’s cogitation Rawson went on: - -“Doesn’t it seem odd to you that no one saw Miss Saunders when she came -back to the house?” - -“No. They were all in their rooms, except Shine who was down at the -Point and Mrs. Stokes who was reading on the balcony. I asked her -particularly if she’d noticed Sybil pass and she said no, she’d been -interested in her book and wouldn’t have noticed anybody.” - -“I’d give a good deal to know what Miss Saunders did in that time. I -think it would let in some light.” - -“How so?” - -Rawson narrowed his eyes in contemplation of an unfolding line of -thought: - -“Well, what took her out again to the Point after she’d come in? She -hadn’t a good deal of time and she wanted to change her clothes before -supper. It looks to me as if she met some one in the house, some one -who wanted her to go down there with them.” - -“Mrs. Cornell says she was alone.” - -“She might have started alone and gone to meet them.” - -“Then it couldn’t have been Stokes,” said Williams, “for Mr. Bassett -says she wouldn’t speak to him if she could help it.” - -“That’s right,” Bassett nodded in agreement. “She’d never have made a -date with him. She shunned him like the plague. If you knew her you -wouldn’t see anything in that going out. She was restless and unhappy -and the place here--the sea, the views--fascinated her. It was our last -evening and it was like her not to want to miss any of it, slip out for -a minute to enjoy the end of it.” - -“And came upon some one waiting for her--lying in wait and----” - -Rawson did not finish. A thud and crackling crash came from the -living-room. The three men rose with a simultaneous leap and ran for -the door. - - - - -X - - -OF ALL the people gathered in the house that evening Anne had been the -most silent. Her ravaged face, the contours broken by gray hollows, -bearing the stamp of shock and horror, had been unnoticed among the -other faces. Now and then a pitying glance had been directed to her, -grief as Sybil’s friend must have added a last unbearable poignancy to -the tragedy. - -After her question to Flora her mind had seemed to blur and cease to -function. She had run from the house not knowing what she did, gone -hither and thither with the others, looking, speaking, listening in -a blind daze. It was not till they returned to the living-room that -her faculties began to clear and coordinate. The lights, the familiar -setting, the talk that could not leave the subject, shook her back to -reality. It was then that she went to the window and sat with her back -to the room. She wanted no one to see her face; she was afraid of what -it might betray. - -Her thoughts circled round the image of Joe as she had last seen -him--the vision of him as some one strange and sinister. And the -boat--the boat with only Gabriel in it--it kept coming up like a -picture revolving on a wheel--going and returning, going and returning. -Had he stayed and what for? That question revolved with the picture of -the boat. She could not get free of them, their obsessing force held -her like a somnambulist staring into the night. - -She thought of telling Bassett and gave that up--with the police -expected she could not get him alone, and why add to his burden with -her suspicions? Yes, that was what it was--nothing but a suspicion. -She had no certainty, Joe might have been in the boat, Joe might have -got off the island some other way. To-morrow something might come to -light that would make these hideous fancies seem like the dreams of -delirium. That was the state of mind she tried to maintain when she -went up-stairs and overheard a man was on guard at the causeway. - -With that knowledge her outlook changed. Her passive rôle was over. She -sat down on the side of the bed and with a grim desperate resolution -faced what she had tried to flee. - -If Joe had done it and if he was on the island he would try to get -off at low tide. It was safe to assume that he was outside, hidden -till the causeway was open. To go out to find him would be useless, -he would never reveal himself to her, and if she was seen suspicion -would instantly be aroused. She must get somewhere that would command -the causeway and its approaches. Her mind ran over every nook and -angle, every shadow and rock ledge between the house and the shore. -Impossible--it was too open and the light was like day. The best -place--the only place--was the living-room entrance. From there she -could see in all directions, the balcony end, the kitchen wing, the -pine grove. She would try to wave him back, possibly get to him--she -had to take her chances and trust to Heaven. - -And then he might never come--it might be just an awful nightmare and -he was with Jimmy Travers on his way to the northern woods. She dropped -her face in her hands and sent up broken words of pleading that it -might be so. - -The tide was at full ebb at midnight. At a quarter before she made -ready. She took from the bureau a book she had been reading--if she -met any one she could say she had come down to find it--and opened -her door with the stealth of a burglar. A dead silence reigned as she -stole down the stairs and into the living-room. Here the great line of -windows--the moon not yet upon them--shone in gray oblongs diffusing a -spectral light that did not touch the darkness under the galleries. - -At the entrance, pressed against the door, she looked out. It was a -world of white enchantment, breathlessly still. She could see the -patterned surfaces of leaves, the cracks and fissures of the rocks. -Below the channel lay almost bare, pools glistening like dropped -mirrors, mounds of mud casting inky shadows. In the middle--a restless -silvery sparkle--ran a narrow stream carrying a glinting line of -radiance to the ocean beyond. The pungent smell of mud and seaweed came -from it along with the sleepy lisp of rippling water. - -She could hear the murmur of the men’s voices from the open library -windows, and like the throbbing of a muffled engine, the beating of her -own heart. - -Into that deep enveloping quietude came a sound, so faint, so -infinitely small and hushed, that only expectant ears could have -caught it. It came from the room behind her, and turning, she slid -back against the wall, her body black against its blackness. The -sound continued, the opening of a door opposite, the door into the -kitchen wing. It seemed no door in the world had ever opened so -slowly--creaking, stopping, resuming, dying away. She could see -nothing, for the darkness of the gallery lay impenetrable over that -furtive entrance. - -There was a footstep, light as the fall of a leaf, and she saw him -coming toward her in that high luminous pallor from the windows. He was -like a shadow, so evenly dark, a shape without detail, moving with a -shadow’s noiseless passage. She saw the outline of the cap on his head -and that he carried his shoes in one hand. - -She came forward with a hand raised for caution, sending her voice -before her in an agonized whisper: - -“Go back, Joe. The causeway’s watched. You can’t get over that way. -_Go!_” - -He was gone, a fleet flying, vanishing back into the darkness under the -gallery. Out of it came the soft closing of the door. - -The room swayed, pale light and darkness swam and coalesced. She knew -she was near a table and put out her hand to steady herself by it, -something solid to hold to for one minute. The polished surface slid -under her fingers and she groped out with the hand that held the book. -The book slipped from her clasp, fell with a thud like a thunderclap, -and a grasping snatch to save it swept a lamp crashing to the floor. -Panic dispelled her faintness and she made a rush for the door. She had -gained it. Her fingers clutched round the knob, as she heard the steps -of the men in the hall and knew it was too late to escape. - -They burst in, thrust into the room’s dim quiet as if shot by a blast. - -“It’s nothing,” she called, hearing her voice thin and hoarse. -“Nothing’s happened. It’s only Anne Tracy.” - -The lights leaped out and she saw them, Bassett with his hand on the -electric button, stricken still, looking this way and that. His eye -found her first, backed against the door, a small green-clad figure -with an ashen face. - -“What’s this mean?” said Rawson. - -“Nothing.” She was afraid the handle would rattle with the shaking of -her hand so let it go. “I upset the lamp in the dark. I didn’t see it -that’s all.” - -“What are you doing here?” - -“I came down to get my book. I forgot and left it when I went -up-stairs.” - -She could get her breath now and her voice was under control. She felt -strength oozing back into her body and with it courage. - -“You’re as white as a sheet,” Williams blurted out. - -“Did something frighten you?” demanded Bassett. - -“No, but a sort of faintness came over me, there by the table, and I -grabbed at it and upset the lamp.” - -Rawson looked at the table with the shattered fragments of the lamp -beside it. It was not far from the entrance door. - -“Did you see anything--anything outside?” - -“No, not a thing and I didn’t hear a sound.” - -“What do you suppose made you feel faint?” - -“Oh!” She dared to make a gesture, upraised hands that dropped limply. -“Hasn’t there been enough here to make anybody faint?” - -“You’ve got to remember, Rawson,” said Bassett who thought the man’s -insistence unnecessary, “what a shock this has been--especially to Miss -Tracy who was Miss Saunders’ friend.” - -“I remember.” Then to Anne: “Miss Tracy, if you should withhold any -information from us you’d get yourself into a very uncomfortable -position.” - -“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t,” she breathed. - -Rawson’s glance remained on her, dubiously intent. Bassett noted it -with a resentment he found it difficult to hide. - -“You can absolutely rely on Miss Tracy,” he said. “She would be -perfectly frank with you if she had anything to tell.” - -“No doubt, no doubt,” said the other, and walked to the entrance. “I’m -going out to have a look around.” On the sill he turned and addressed -Anne. “I gave some instructions to you ladies and I expected to have -them followed. You’ll please remember them in the future.” - -He passed out into the brilliancy of the moonlight. Now that he was -gone Bassett felt he must make her understand. He had been astonished -at what she had done. It was so unlike her, a disobedience of orders at -such a time as this. - -“You must do what they tell you, Anne. They have to make these rules -and it’s up to us to keep them.” - -“I will now. You can trust me. Mr. Williams, you can see how it was. I -couldn’t sleep and my mind was full of this awful thing, and I thought -if I could put it on something else--get free from my thoughts even for -a few minutes!” - -Williams grunted his comprehension. He felt rather tenderly toward her, -she looked so small and wan and her voice was so pleading. - -“Where was your book?” he asked. - -“On the table behind you. I was feeling round for it and I think I -pushed it off with the lamp.” - -“What was the name of it?” - -“_Victory_, by Joseph Conrad.” - -He went to the table. His back turned, she and Bassett exchanged a long -look. Williams picked up the book and came back with it. - -“Here it is,” he said, giving it to her. “And just make a note of the -fact that you’re not to go round the house at night after books or -anything else.” - -She assured him she would not, she would give them no more trouble, -and opening the door she slipped away. They remained without speaking -till she came out on the gallery and walked to her room. Bassett stood -looking up after she had disappeared, the memory of her face as they -burst in upon her added a new peculiar distress to his harrowed state. - -“Well,” said Williams, “her book _was_ there.” - -Bassett stared at him: - -“_Was_ there! Why shouldn’t it be?” - -Williams gave an upward hitch of his shoulders: - -“Words come easy, Mr. Bassett.” - -“Good God!” exclaimed Bassett in horrified amaze. “You have any idea -she was _lying_? If you have, get it out of your head. I’ve known Miss -Tracy for three years and she could no more say what wasn’t true -than--well, she _couldn’t_, that’s all.” - -“I don’t think she did. It sounded to me a perfectly straight story.” - -“It was. You can take my word for that.” - -They were back in the library when Rawson reappeared with Shine. Shine, -unable to sleep, had been sitting by his window when Rawson, scouting, -had stopped to inquire if he had seen any one. Shine had not, but had -volunteered to join in a hunt and the two had been about the house and -the immediate vicinity. Nothing had been discovered and Patrick had -seen no sign of life or heard no sound. Now they had come back for -the electric torch and were going to extend their search. A person -concealed on the seaward side of the island might be moving at this -hour when the causeway was free. Bassett said he would go with them and -the three men left the room by one of the long windows. - -Williams opened the library door and turned off the lights. The noise -of the departing trio would suggest to any one on the watch that the -house was free of police supervision and there might be developments. -He took the desk chair as easier to rise from than the deep-seated -leather ones and settled himself to a _resumé_ of what they had so far -gathered. - -He was convinced of Mrs. Stokes’ guilt and ran over the reasons. A -hysterical woman, frantic with jealousy--that alone was enough. But -that woman had been the only member of the party who at the time of -the shooting had been some distance from the house. She had taken the -pistol with the intention of using it if an occasion offered. Her walk -had been undertaken with the hope that she might find that occasion -in the hour before supper when they were all in their rooms. The -occasion _had_ offered. Miss Saunders, unable to resist the beauty of -the evening, had gone to the Point alone. He set no store by Rawson’s -opinion that the woman’s state of mind was too genuinely distracted. -He considered it as part of a premeditated plan carried through with -nerve and skill. She would have known that the report of the pistol -would have been heard at the house. This, when Miss Saunders did not -return, would have suggested foul play. And she, Mrs. Stokes, was the -only person out on the island. A later entrance, with an assumption of -ignorance, would have turned suspicion on her like a pointing finger. -She was too intelligent for that--had called her abilities as an -actress to her aid and put them all off with her screaming excitement. - -Another point that he wanted to look into was the length of time she -had been at the shore after the report--a great deal too long for what -she said she had done. Too paralyzed to think or move, her explanation -was stunned. Williams was divided in his opinion as to that--either -pulling herself together for the grand-stand play she was to make or -possibly pushing the body into the water. - -It was at this juncture that he suddenly cocked his head and let his -hands drop softly to the arms of the chair. From the stairs outside -came a faint creak, a pause and then again, step by step a bare or -stockinged foot in gradual descent. - -The big man arose as noiselessly as he could and made for the hall. But -his bulk and his boots were not adapted to rapid movements or silent -surprise. As he reached the hall he heard the pattering flight of light -feet and cursed under his breath as he felt for the electric button. -Her room--the one he had seen Miss Pinkney put her in--was just beyond -the stair-head to the right. And her husband’s--he turned and faced the -secretive panels of its closed door. - -Williams dropped his head and trod thoughtfully back to the library, -but this time he left the hall lights on. Also he lit the library ones -and allowed himself the solace of a cigar. “She won’t try that again -to-night,” he said to himself and dropped into an easy chair. - -Then Stokes must know. They had had opportunity for private conference -in that hour after the murder when the others were out of the house. -She had either told him or he had accused her; for all they knew he -might have seen her do it. Anyway she wanted to get speech with him and -it might be support, counsel, the matching up of their stories--but -whatever it was she must have been in dire straights to take such a -risk. - -Williams smoked on, comfortably sprawled in the deep chair, thinking -out a line of attack on the Stokeses. - - - - -XI - - -THE night search of the island had given up nothing and a daylight -exploration was set for the morning. Before this, however, Rawson -wanted to go through Miss Saunders’ room, which by his orders had been -locked and left untouched. It occupied the corner of the second floor -directly above the library, the first of the long line of bedchambers -that stretched across the land front of the house. Their doors opened -upon a hall that traversed the building from end to end, its central -section forming one side of the gallery. - -In her short stay the girl seemed to have impressed the place with her -dainty charm. It was beauty’s bower, a bright and scented nest, chintz -bung, with white fur rugs on the floor and silken cushions which bore -the impress of her light weight. Steeped in the morning sun, warm and -still, it extended its welcome as if waiting for her entrance. The -signs of feminine occupation caught the eyes of the men and held them -chilled on the threshold. Enhancements of her beauty were strewn on -the bureau, the garments that had clothed her graceful body lay on the -bed where her hand had thrown them. A delicate perfume filled the air, -the fragrance of her passing habitation still lingering in ghostlike -sweetness after the living presence had gone. - -Rawson moved first, shaking off the spell. He looked into the open -wardrobe trunk, completely packed but for the last hanger. “Going to -put her costume there,” he said, touching it with his index finger. -He pulled out the drawers and ran his eye over their contents. A gray -crêpe dress lay across the foot of the bed, beside it a cloak and a -black hat with a water-lily garnishing the brim. “These,” he said, -“were the clothes left out to wear.” - -Bassett nodded. He could see Sybil in the gray dress with her hair a -golden fluff below the edge of the black hat. She had worn them on the -way up and been pleased when he had admired her costume. - -They went over the desk; a few postage stamps and a writing tablet. But -the desk had evidently not been used--the square of new blotting paper -in the carved leather holder was unmarked. The waste-paper basket only -contained a torn veil and the wrapper of a package of hair pins. On the -bed-table was a book and a candy box containing two chocolate bonbons. - -By the bureau an open bag stood on a chair. There was nothing in this -but a book, one of the many treatises on self-development and the -achievement of spiritual calm and control. Poor Sybil! Bassett turned -away with a sick heart--had she found now what she had been striving -for? - -The dressing-table was the only place in the room that her neat -arranging hand had not touched. It was covered with a litter of toilet -articles, cold-cream jars, rouge boxes, powders and scents, a silver -hand mirror, a pair of long white gloves. Williams picked up a bead -bag and opened it. It contained a wisp of handkerchief, a bunch of -keys, a lip-stick and a gold change purse. In the central compartment -were three five-dollar bills and in the gold purse one dollar and -thirty-five cents in coin. - -“This couldn’t have been all the money she had,” he queried. - -“Why not?” said Bassett. “I guess some of us haven’t that much. She -didn’t need any. All our expenses were paid and she was going straight -home. One of those bills was probably intended for Miss Pinkney.” - -Nothing more came to light. The closets were empty, the bathroom -contained a few toilet articles and a nightgown and negligée hanging on -the door. Obviously a place swept clean for a coming departure by one -who had no premonition that that departure would be final. - -They passed out and along the hall, Rawson wanting to see the -disposition of the passages and stairs. At the door next to Miss -Saunders’ he stopped, asking who occupied that room. It was vacant now -but had been Joe Tracy’s. He opened the door and looked in upon another -chintz-hung chamber, all signs of recent habitation removed that -morning by Miss Pinkney’s energetic hand. A steamer trunk in the corner -caught his attention and Bassett explained it was young Tracy’s trunk -which his sister was to take back to New York with her. - -Beyond that the hall ran into the gallery passing under an arch of -carved wood. They traversed it, looking down into the richly colored -expanse of the room below, and fared on under a companion arch into the -last stretch of the hall. At the stair-head Rawson halted: - -“Only two flights connecting with this floor, the one in the front by -the library and this. Now the top story--how do you get to that?” - -Bassett showed them a staircase at the end of the hall. He had never -been up there himself, but some one, Mrs. Cornell, he thought, had. -It was the servants’ quarters and had not been occupied during their -stay, Miss Pinkney and her helper having had rooms on the gallery. - -Later on they would take a look up there, the island was their business -now. According to Williams, all this searching was merely a formality, -and they descended the stairs conferring together. It was their -purpose to keep Stokes and his wife from any possibility of private -communication. Shine had been delegated to stay beside one or other -of them, and so far, they had made no attempts to get together. Their -amenability added to Williams’ suspicion and it was his suggestion -that they should bring Stokes with them on their hunt. When that was -finished they planned taking Mrs. Stokes to the place of the murder and -making her rehearse just what she had seen. - -Starting from the Point they explored the island foot by foot, scouting -across the open expanses where a rabbit could hardly have hidden and -prying into the hollows and rifts of the boulders on the shore. On -the sea front, wedged between miniature cliffs, there were triangles -and crescents of sand, bathing beaches with small pavilions built -against the cliffs. But no foot-prints marred the sand’s wave-beaten -smoothness, no trail of broken grass and brambles indicated the passage -of a body. The path that followed the bluff’s edge, making a detour -round the ravines, yielded neither trace nor clue. The dressing-rooms -back of the amphitheater behind a clump of cedars, gave no sign of -having harbored an alien presence. The little amphitheater itself, sunk -in its green cup, lay open to their eyes as they stood on its brink. -They walked among the stone seats, seamed with a velvet padding of -moss, and gathered up a few programs, a pair of woman’s gloves and a -necklace of blue beads. - -That brought them to the end. The house had no outbuildings; garages, -barns and sheds were in the village across the channel. There was no -one in hiding on the island. - -They found Flora, Shine and Mrs. Cornell on the balcony. As they came -up Flora looked at them and then averted her glance as if in proud -determination to show no curiosity. Rouge had been applied to her -cheeks and her dry lips were a vivid rose color. The high tints showed -ghastly on her withered skin but her dark eyes were scintillant with an -avid burning vitality. It was like a face still holding the colors and -hot warmth of youth suddenly stricken by untimely age. - -Williams, halting at the foot of the steps, told her what they -wanted--her position and Miss Saunders’ at the time of the shooting, -going over the ground and making it clear to them. She rose alertly -with a quick understanding nod--she would be glad to, it was her -earnest desire to be of help to them in any way she could. Rawson -noticed that she did not look at her husband but kept her eyes on -Williams with an intent frowning concentration, moving her head in -agreement with his instructions. - -At the shore she was eager to explain everything, took her place on the -path where she had been when she saw Sybil appear on the other side of -the hollow. Her rendering of the scene was graphic and given with much -careful detail. The men, grouped about, followed her indicating hand, -stopping her now and then with a question. Stokes stood back watching, -his face in the searching daylight smoothly yellow like a face of wax. - -Williams’ questions were many and pointed, and it soon became evident -to Bassett what he had in his mind--that her explanation of her -actions did not account for the length of time she had been on the -shore. Whether she saw it or not he could not tell; checked in her -story she would answer patiently, reiterating her first statement -that her stunned condition had robbed her of the power of thought or -motion. But he was sure Stokes had grasped the trend of the query; he -drew nearer, his flexible lips working, the hand hanging at his side -clenching and unclenching. Once he assayed to speak, a hoarse sound -throttled in escape. It pierced the strained attention she was giving -her questioners, and, for the first time, she hesitated and fumbled for -her words. - -When it was over and they returned to the house, Stokes dropped to her -side and drew her hand through his arm. She drooped against him; her -narrow body looked nerveless, as if but for his support it would have -crumpled and sunk. But he planted his feet with a hard defiance, each -step drew a ringing echo from the rocks and he held his head high. -Bassett, following them, noted his rigid carriage, and when he turned -his profile, the wide nostril spread like that of a winded horse. - -There was a ghastly lunch. The men of the law ate greedily and without -words. Shine was ashamed that he had any appetite and tried to appease -it with bread which he could extract from the plate in front of him -without notice. There was almost no speech. Miss Pinkney, executing her -duties with an automatic precision, did what waiting was necessary, and -her voice, inquiring their needs and proffering second helpings, broke -desolate expanses of silence. - -When it was over Williams and Rawson took up the trail again. They -were now going to direct their attention to the Point, especially the -summer-house, from which a path led to the summit of the bluff whence -Sybil had fallen. Bassett, who had hoped to get a word with Anne, was -bidden to join them, and the three left the house step by step tracing -the passage of the dead girl. - -They began with the pine grove. Needles carpeted the ground, slippery -smooth, a beaten trail winding between the tree trunks. Beyond it the -path ascended the bare slope to the summer-house. “No place to hide -here,” Rawson said. “The murderer, if Mrs. Stokes’ story is true, was -either in the open or in the summer-house.” They paused, moved on, bent -for a closer scrutiny of the dry grass, searched for an imprint in the -pebbled walk. Secretive as the rest of the island, the way divulged -nothing. Sybil’s light foot had made no faintest mark, she had gone to -her death leaving no track nor trace. - -The summer-house, a small, six-sided building, was covered by a thick -growth of Virginia creeper that swathed its rustic shape. In four of -its walls the vines, matted into a mantle of green, had been cut away -to form windows. Framed in these squares sea and land views were like -pictures brilliantly bright from the shaded interior. The other two -sides held the entrances, one giving on the path that descended to the -pine grove, one to its continuation to the Point. A circular seat ran -round the walls and a table in the same bark-covered wood was the only -movable piece of furniture. This was drawn up against the seat at one -side. Rawson moved it out as the other two ran exploring eyes over the -walls, the door-sills and the floor of wooden planking upon which a few -leaves were scattered. - -“Here,” he cried suddenly. “What’s this?” and drew from a crevice where -the legs crossed, some scraps of a coarse gold material. - -He held them up against the light of the opening--three short strands -of what might have been the gilt string used to tie Christmas packages. - -“What do you know about this?” he said, offering them to Bassett’s -gaze. - -Bassett looked, and Williams with craned neck and lifted brows looked -too. They were exactly of a length, broken filaments of thread attached -to the end of each. - -“They’ve been torn off something,” Rawson indicated the threads, -“caught in that joint of the table legs and pulled off. Did she have -anything like this on her dress anywhere, a trimming or----” - -“Fringe,” Bassett interrupted, “the fringe on her sash.” - -“Ah!” Rawson could not hide his exultation. “_Now_ we’ve got something -we can get our teeth into.” - -“Yes.” Bassett took the pieces and studied them in the light. “That’s -what it is. She wore a wide sash round her waist with ends that hung -down edged with gold fringe. This is a bit of it.” - -“Well,” said Williams, “that’s a starter anyhow. She was in here.” - -Rawson sat on the bench and drew the table into its former position: - -“It not only proves she was in here, but it proves a good deal more. -This is the way she was, with the table as we found it close in front -of her. The ends of her sash would have been in contact with the table -legs. Now she jumped up quickly--do you get that? If she’d gone slow or -had time to think she’d have felt the pull and unloosed the sash--but -she sprang up, didn’t notice.” He looked from one to the other, his -lean face alight. - -“Frightened,” said Bassett. - -“So frightened she didn’t feel it, and moved with such force she tore -the fringe off. That scare took her up from the seat and sent her -flying through the doorway for the Point.” - -“Hold on now,” said Williams. “If she was as scared as that why didn’t -she go for the house where there were people?” - -“Because she was too scared to think. Some one with a pistol was on the -other side of the table.” He rose and went to the entrance facing the -Point. “And the person with the pistol shot at her from here--winged -her as she ran.” He turned to Bassett. “That’s why you saw no one when -you looked out after you first heard the shot. The murderer was in here -lying low.” - -“Yes.” Bassett thought back over the moment when he had stood in the -living-room doorway. “That’s the only place he could have been or I’d -have seen him. But they wouldn’t have been any time together--couldn’t -have had a quarrel or a scene. According to Mrs. Cornell it was only -six or seven minutes after she saw Sybil go out that she heard the -shot. That would give them only two or three minutes in here.” - -“Time enough to draw a gun and back it up with a few sentences. It -bears out what I’ve thought from the start--not an accidental meeting -but a date, to which the woman came unsuspecting and the other primed -to kill.” - -“Then Mrs. Stokes got on to that date,” said Williams, “and broke -in on it. And there’s only one person that date could have been -with--Stokes.” - -Bassett’s nerves were raw with strain and anxiety. This reiteration of -a rendezvous with Stokes maddened him: - -“But it couldn’t have been. I’ve told you. I knew Miss Saunders well. -I know what she felt about the man, and besides I have the evidence -of my own eyes that she avoided him in every way she could. Make an -appointment to meet him alone! She’d as soon make an appointment with -Satan.” - -Neither of the men answered him for a moment. Williams regarded his -sentiment with respect. He had been a friend of the dead girl’s and -it was natural he should stand up for her, whether rightly or wrongly -Williams was not yet sure. Rawson was impressed; he had formed a high -opinion of the director’s candor and truthfulness and his words weighed -with him: - -“I go a good deal by what you say, Mr. Bassett, and as to this meeting -of which I’m convinced--whom it was with I don’t know. Williams here -has made up his mind and worked out his case. I don’t agree with -him. I believe Mrs. Stokes is telling the truth. What she says hangs -together all right. I think her explanation of the passage of time when -she was on the shore is entirely plausible. That she may know something -is possible, but I don’t think she’s guilty.” - -“Then you must think it’s Stokes,” said Williams with some heat. -“There’s nobody else it could be.” - -Rawson considered before he spoke: - -“I don’t see Stokes as deliberately murdering the woman he was in love -with. That’s generally an act of impulse, sudden desperation. And -there was no impulse here. Careful premeditation--the stealing of the -revolver, luring her to this summer-house, the threats or rage when she -got here that made her fly. It’s more like the working out of revenge -than the act of blind passion. Stokes doesn’t look to me the kind of -man that would kill so carefully. He’s too soft.” - -“Then who is it?” Williams exclaimed. “Somebody killed her.” - -Rawson moved toward the doorway: - -“That’s about all I’m willing to agree to at present. But I’d like to -see Stokes again. He and his wife may know more than they say--I don’t -deny _that_--but she’s got a better nerve than he has. We’ll get him -into the library and have a whack at him.” - - - - -XII - - -BASSETT was detailed to find Stokes and bring him to the library. -A summons from the director would have an air of informality which -might put Stokes off his guard. Rawson did not communicate this to his -messenger, but told Williams when they were alone. He had been watching -Stokes and thought the man showed signs of strain. That morning at the -beach Stokes’ manner and appearance had suggested a nerve tension which -might rise from anxiety about his wife, but might also be the result of -some knowledge he was struggling to withhold. - -Bassett found Flora and Shine on the balcony and heard that Stokes had -gone to his room to try to get some sleep. He knocked on the door and -to a gruff “Come in” entered to find Stokes lying on the bed. He rose -quickly, exhibiting the same alacrity his wife had shown earlier in -the day. - -“Of course,” he said. “I’m ready to come whenever they want me. In fact -I’ve been lying here expecting it, going back over last evening, trying -to think of anything I may have overlooked that might help them.” - -There was a willing bruskness in his manner, an almost hearty readiness -to do what was asked of him that seemed not quite genuine, adopted, -perhaps, to hide the natural nervousness of a person in his position. -Seated in an easy chair before the two men, Bassett back of them by -the window noticed that his hands were restless, smoothing and pulling -at his clothes, settling his tie. Despite his disquiet he assumed an -attitude of expectant attention, gravely awaiting their will, his eyes -glancing from one face to the other. He might readily have been a -guilty man primed for attack, or an innocent one shaken by the untoward -circumstances in which he found himself. - -Rawson’s manner was friendly and reassuring. They wanted to get all -possible information on the movements of the company the evening -before. Last night the examinations had been cursory and fuller ones -were necessary. They would like to know just what he had done from the -time he entered the house to change his clothes to the time when he had -heard the shot. - -He answered promptly with businesslike directness. Went to his room, -changed his clothes, laid on the bed resting for a while, then sat on -the balcony reading the paper. - -While he was sitting there Miss Saunders must have passed the end of -the balcony by the path that led to the Point. - -She must have, but he had not seen her, being occupied with his paper. - -Had he while in the house seen Miss Saunders or heard her voice? - -He had not. He had no idea she had come in. - -Had he seen his wife? - -“My wife? Yes, I saw her for a moment. In the hall when I came out of -our room after dressing.” - -“Did she tell you she was going to take a walk round the island?” - -“Well, I hardly remember.” He tilted his head sidewise with an air of -careful consideration. “Yes, I believe she did say something about -it--it’s very vague in my mind. It made no impression on me. We -exchanged a few words and parted.” - -“She said nothing to you about Miss Saunders being in the house?” - -“Why no, she didn’t know it. We didn’t mention Miss Saunders at all.” - -“But she was--she had been--a frequent subject of conversation between -you?” - -His eyes, looking at Rawson, seemed to harden and grow more fixed: - -“We _had_ talked of her--naturally being in the same company.” - -“Your wife and Miss Saunders were not very friendly?” - -A fierce light rose in the fixed eyes, the nostrils widened. - -“What are you getting at, Mr. Rawson?” - -“Our business, Mr. Stokes. We’re here to investigate a murder and we -can’t spare people’s feelings or shut our eyes to disagreeable facts.” - -“Have I shown any signs of expecting that? I’ve put myself at your -disposal, my wife has. We’re ready to give you any help we can, but I’m -not ready to back up any damned suspicions that have been put into your -mind.” - -“We’re not asking you to,” said Rawson. “But we know what was going on -here before the shooting.” - -Bassett spoke up: - -“I’m the person that told them, Aleck. It had to be done. They had to -be acquainted with the whole situation, and they got it from me. But -they heard no lies, no suppositions--you know you can trust me for -that.” - -Stokes’ glance shifted to him. Through its savage defiance Bassett -could detect the torment of his soul, despairingly betrayed to the one -person he knew would be just. - -“Oh, I’m not blaming you,” he answered: “You couldn’t do anything -else. And they can hear it all from me.” He looked at the two men. “I -don’t want to keep anything back. You don’t have to use any of your -third-degree methods with me. I’m willing to tell. I was in love with -her, madly, like a fool, hounded her, dogged her footsteps. You’ve -heard that. And my wife was jealous--so jealous they all could see. -You’ve heard that too.” - -The confession of his passion, remorseless in its bitter revelation, -was horrible, like the tearing aside of wrappings from a raw wound. - -“Yes, we’ve heard it,” muttered Williams. - -“She hated me. I don’t know whether you’ve heard that too, but I’m -telling you and perhaps you’ll believe what I say if it’s against -myself. She hated me, and I wouldn’t let her alone. My wife was -jealous. Do you see--is it clear? Oh, we’re in damned bad, my wife and -I, but we’re not in so bad as you’re trying to make out.” He jumped to -his feet, the shine of sweat on his forehead. - -“I don’t see, Mr. Stokes,” said Rawson quietly, “where you get that. We -haven’t made out anything yet.” - -“Oh, I can see. We were the only people outside the house--that’s -enough to build a theory on. And motives--who had a motive? That’s the -way you go to work. Find a motive, fit some one to it. My wife had a -motive, that’s sufficient. Don’t ask what kind of woman she is, don’t -look any further, you have to get some one and she’s the easiest. -Christ!” he cried, throwing out his arms with a dramatic gesture, “it -would make the gods laugh!” - -“Mr. Stokes, if you’d take this calmly----” - -“Calmly! Seeing what you think and where you’re trying to land us! But -just let me ask you something.” He thrust his head forward, the chin -advanced, the eyebrows in arched semicircles rising almost to his hair. -“Do you happen to remember there were five hundred people on the island -that afternoon? Any kind of person could have been here on any kind of -errand.” - -Rawson answered with a slight show of impatience: - -“Just leave our business to us, Mr. Stokes. You’re here to answer -questions.” - -“Oh, that’s plain--questions all pointing one way. But there were other -people on the island besides that crowd--besides us--who might have had -a motive. Isn’t anger a motive?” - -He projected the sentence with a malevolent force, the words enunciated -with an actor’s incisive diction. - -“Anger!” ejaculated Williams. “Where does that come in?” - -“Here, on Gull Island. Oh, we’ve had more than jealousy. Rage and spite -will go as far. Take your eyes off my wife and me for a moment--look -somewhere else.” - -Rawson’s face showed no surprise, blankly inscrutable, but Williams -wheeled in his chair and turned an expression of startled inquiry on -Bassett. Bassett, in his turn, was staring in astonishment at Stokes. - -“What are you talking about?” he said. “Rage and spite--whom do you -mean?” - -“I mean Joe Tracy,” was the answer. - -“Joe Tracy!” exclaimed Williams, looking vaguely about in a baffled -searching of memory. “Who’s he?” - -“Good God, Aleck!” Bassett made a step forward: “Get a hold on -yourself--think of what you’re saying. He wasn’t here, he’d left the -island before that.” - -Stokes paid no attention but went on, glaring into Rawson’s -expressionless face: - -“A damned devil of a boy with a record. Ask him,” he pointed to -Bassett, “ask any of them what kind he was and how he acted here. It -isn’t I alone that saw it. Yesterday morning at the rehearsal he’d have -struck her if Bassett hadn’t interfered. What was the matter--I don’t -know. I don’t pretend to know everything, but I know rage and hate when -I see them.” - -“Aleck, you’re crazy,” Bassett’s voice was raised in exasperated -insistence: “He’d _gone_.” - -“Couldn’t he come back? Aren’t there boats to be hired at Hayworth?” -He turned to Rawson. “I don’t accuse him, I’m not like you, I don’t -jump at conclusions, point and say ‘There’s the murderer!’ But I want -a square deal and I won’t get it till you’ve looked up Joe Tracy. -Call your dogs back from the scent they’re on and put them on his. -Justice--that’s all I ask for--justice for my wife. For myself----” -He stopped. His excitement seemed suddenly to die. He looked old and -wearied, his body relaxed, the fire in his sunken eyes extinguished in -a profound gloom. “It doesn’t matter what happens to me. I’ve thrown -everything away--and Sybil’s dead.” - -There was a slight pause. Rawson broke it, clearing his throat and -rising from his chair: - -“That’s enough for the time being, Mr. Stokes. You can go now, if we -want you we’ll call on you later!” - -Without a word Stokes turned and left the room. When the door had -closed on him Bassett said: - -“He’s out of his mind--Joe Tracy--when he knows he wasn’t here.” - -Williams gave a bearish shrug: - -“Oh, pshaw, what’s the matter with him’s easy to size up. Breaking -down, losing his nerve. Whether he knows his wife did it or not he sees -everything points there and he’s just laying hold of anything to mark -time. They go like that--I’ve seen ’em before.” - -Rawson, who had been standing with his hands deep in his pockets and -his eyes fixed on the floor, moved to the chair: - -“Let’s hear about this boy, Mr. Bassett--all this anger and hate -business he’s been buzzing round.” - -He sat down and lit a cigar. Through the smoke he watched Bassett -with a narrowed glance as the director unfolded the story of Joe, the -quarrel and Sybil’s accusation. - -When it was over Rawson knocked the ash from his cigar, meditatively -looking at the crumbling gray heap: - -“Are you under the impression, Mr. Bassett, that her story was -true--that the boy _had_ been spying on her?” - -“I don’t know. Of course she was in a high-keyed emotional state that -might engender unjust suspicions. On the other hand you couldn’t trust -his word, and there was big money offered.” - -“And when you returned to New York you would have found it out.” - -“Yes, I told him that.” - -“And he would have realized that it would go hard with him, where you -were concerned, and with the rest of the profession?” - -“Yes, he’d know. She was very popular and there was a general sympathy -for her. Any one acting against her interests would have met with a -pretty cold reception.” - -Williams stretched and rose from his chair: - -“Well, it’s all right to gather up everything, but it doesn’t get us -any further. If the boy’d been here, seeing what he was and how he -felt, there might be something in it. But as he got out before the -shooting it leaves us just where we were before. What do you think -about going up and looking over that top story--routine business we -ought to get through.” - -“Not now,” Rawson moved to the door. “I’m going across to the mainland.” - -“Mainland--what’s that for?” - -“Look up some things--that boy’s movements for one. I’ll take Patrick -and the launch and send him right back. The causeway’s covered so we -don’t need him there. If Mr. Driscoll ever wanted to sell this place -I’d recommend it for a penitentiary, save the state some money, only -want guards twice in twenty-four hours. Come down to the dock with me, -Mr. Bassett, and tell me which way Tracy was going.” - -Bassett went with him feeling for the first time that he could give -information with the tranquillizing assurance it would react on nobody. -When he left Rawson at the dock he went to look for Anne. - - - - -XIII - - -TO THE outside eye Anne had presented no more dolorous and dejected -an aspect than any of the others. If she could not eat, neither could -they, and if she sat sunk in somber gloom they either did the same or -gave expression to their nerve-wracked state by breathless outbursts of -speech. No one, not even Bassett, noticed that Anne’s demeanor was in -any way other than what might have been expected. - -Had they been able to see into her mind the group at Gull Island would -have received its second staggering shock. - -She kept as much to herself as she could without rousing curiosity. She -had to think and to be alone where she would focus her thoughts, hold -them trained on what she knew and what might develop. She wanted to -keep her mind on the main issue, inhibit any fruitless speculations, -wait and be ready. Joe was on the island and with the guarded causeway -would stay on the island till after they had gone. Her hope, giving her -strength to go through the automatic actions of behavior, was, that -suspicion not being directed to him, he could lie hidden till they left -and then make his get-a-way. She knew that Gabriel had gone to White -Beach for a week’s deep-sea fishing, and Gabriel was the one person -besides herself who knew that Joe had not crossed to the mainland. They -surely would be moved away before a week and if, during that time, the -belief that he had gone remained unshaken, he was safe. - -So far she was confident that no suspicion had touched him. She did -not see how it could. They were all satisfied that he had left, her -answer to Rawson had been accepted in good faith. There would be no -investigating of his movements for there would be no reason for doing -it. He had passed outside the circle of the tragedy, was eliminated as -the actors were who had gone on the earlier boat. - -If they didn’t find him! - -Where was he? He had entered the living-room by the door that led to -the kitchen wing and rear staircase. That would look as if he was in -the house. But she knew that no doors were locked on Gull Island and -that he might have come from outside, choosing a passage through the -darkened building rather than expose himself to the moonlight. If -he was in the house he must be in the vacant top story and she was -certain--every sound of heavy footsteps had been noted by her listening -ears--that the men had not been there yet. That would argue that they -felt no need of hurry. Were they taking things in a leisurely way -because of their assurance that no one could escape, or were they so -convinced they had their quarry that no further search was necessary? -What conclusions were they coming to behind the closed doors of the -library--had they fixed on some one of the party, the obvious ones, -Flora or Stokes? - -She checked these disintegrating surmises, drew her mind back with a -fierce tug of will. That would come later. If Joe got away she would -tell, confess it all, go to jail. It didn’t matter, what happened then. -Only what was here before her counted now. - -When the search of the island started she went up to the side of the -gallery that skirted the line of windows. From there she could command -the whole seaward sweep of its ten acres. She would be alone here, -secure against intrusion; she could drop her mask, let her face show -what it might, not watch from beneath her eyelids for the questioning -looks she dreaded. - -The group of men came into her line of vision, moving across the flat -land between the house and the ocean. She sat crouched, watching with -set jaw. Presently they dropped over the edges of the cliffs, then -inarticulate surges of prayer rose in her, blind pleadings; and, her -hands clasped against her breast, she rocked back and forth as if in -unassuagable pain. But they always reappeared without him, went down -again, came up, scrambling through the stony mouths of ravines--always -without him. When they returned to the house, she fell back in the -chair, her eyes closed, whispering broken words of thanksgiving. - -With her breath and her voice under control she went down-stairs. She -knew now that he must be in the house. - -After lunch she drifted out on the balcony with the others and from -there saw Bassett and the two officers of the law go down the path to -the pine grove. Following Sybil’s movements on the Point--that would -take them some time. Mrs. Cornell said she was going to the kitchen -to help Miss Pinkney (if it wasn’t for that work she thought she’d go -crazy), and she advised Anne to go up-stairs and lie down. - -“You look like the wrath of God, honey,” she said, hooking her hand -through Anne’s arm and drawing her with her. “You can’t sleep, no one -expects that of you. But stretch out on the bed and relax--you get some -sort of rest that way.” - -Anne went with her, Mrs. Cornell’s step dropping to a crawling pace as -they crossed the living-room, her arm drawing Anne closer, her hearty -voice dwindled to a whisper: - -“Do you know anything?” - -“No, how should I?” - -“I listen all I can but they’re as tight as clams when we’re around. I -think they’ve got a hungry sort of look as if they were on some trail. -Haven’t you noticed it?” - -Anne hadn’t noticed anything. - -“Well, I have. I sit there slumped together and acting helpless, but -I’m not like the Foolish Virgins--my lamps are lit.” - -“Do you think they have any one in mind?” - -“They have two, dearie, as we all have.” They had reached the door -and she opened it warily. “And one moment I’m thinking it’s one and -the next moment I’m thinking it’s the other and the third moment I’m -thinking it’s neither of them.” - -They passed through the doorway and went down the hall, stopping at the -foot of the stairs. Mrs. Cornell offered a last consoling word: - -“You can be thankful for one thing, Anne, Joe’s not being here.” - -“Joe?” - -“Oh, I’m not saying he had anything to do with it. But these cases--you -read about them in the papers. Every little thing traced up. And she -and Joe having been at loggerheads they’d be pouncing on that--not -telling you anything, sending up your blood pressure with their -questions. You’re spared that and it’s worth keeping your mind on. -Nothing so bad but what it might be worse.” - -She went on down the hall. Anne, on the stairs, waited till she heard -the sound of the opening door and Miss Pinkney’s welcoming voice, -then she stole upward very softly. She did not go to her room as Mrs. -Cornell had advised, but tiptoed to the end of the hall where the -staircase led to the top story. - -She ascended with delicate carefulness letting her weight come -gradually on each step. Despite her precautions the boards creaked. The -sounds seemed portentously loud in the deep quiet and she stopped for -the silence to absorb them, and then, with chary foot, went on. At the -top she stood, subduing her deep-drawn breaths, looking, listening. - -The middle of the floor was occupied by a spacious central hall -furnished as a parlor and lit by a skylight. Giving on it were -numerous small bedrooms, the doors open. They were like rows of neat -little cells, all the same, bed, dresser, rocking-chair, with a white -curtained window in the outer wall. The windows were open, the sashes -raised half-way, and the fresh sweet air passing through fanned -the muslin curtains back and forth in curved transparencies. Anne -remembered Miss Pinkney saying something about opening the top-floor -windows to air the servants’ quarters before the house was closed for -the season. - -The stirrings of the curtains, billowing out and drooping, were the -only movements in the place. She moved to the middle of the room and -sent her voice out in a whisper: - -“Joe, Joe--are you here? It’s Anne.” - -Her ears were strained for an answering whisper, her eyes swept about -for a shape creeping into view, but the silence was unbroken, the -emptiness undisturbed. She entered the rooms, peered about, opened -cupboards, looked for signs of occupation. Again nothing--vacancy, dust -in a film on the bureau tops, beds untouched in meticulous smoothness. - -One door was closed, near the stair-head. Opening this she looked into -a store-room, a large, dark interior lit by two small windows. They -were dust grimed, and the light came in dimly, showing upturned trunks -and boxes, pieces of furniture, lines of clothes hanging on the walls. - -“Here,” she thought, and with her heart leaping in her throat, crossed -the threshold: - -“Joe, it’s Anne. I’ve come to help you.” - -Nothing stirred in the encumbered space, no stealthy body detached -itself from the shadows. - -“Oh, answer me if you’re there!” Her voice rose the shade of a tone. -It came back from the raftered roof in smothered supplication; the -silence it had severed closed again, deep and secretive. - -She feared to stay longer and slipped, wraith-like, down the stairs. In -her room she sat down and considered. He must have been there. Where -else could he be unless in one of the unoccupied apartments in the -lower floors. But he hardly would have dared that with people coming -and going. He had been afraid, doubted her as he had always done, -or possibly found a hiding-place too shut away for her whisper to -penetrate. To-night she would have to get food to him, take it up when -the men were in the library and the others safe in their rooms. - -She could do nothing more and went down-stairs in the hope of seeing -Bassett. Since morning she had longed for a word with him. Through the -darkling obsession of her fears he loomed as the one loved and familiar -being in a world where she fared in solitary dread. Not that she had -any idea of telling him, the direful secret was hers alone to be -confessed later on some awful day of reckoning and retribution. But she -wanted to see him, get courage from his presence, feel the solace of -his arm about her. She was so lonely with her intolerable burden. - -The living-room was empty, but listening at the hall door she heard the -murmur of men’s voices in the library. They were in conference again -and might be long. She passed out into the garden and sank down on one -of the benches. The air had grown chilly and a little wandering breeze -was abroad. It moved among the flowers and sent shivers down the great -wisteria vine trained up the house wall and ascending to the chimneys. -She looked at it, its drooping foliage; stirred by a quivering unrest, -showing the fibrous branches intertwined like ropes--an old vine such -as city dwellers seldom see. She tried to fix her attention on it, -picturing it when the blossoms hung in lilac cascades, a riot of color -from ground to roof. But her mind was like the needle in the compass, -inevitably swinging back to the same point. - -There were clouds in the sky, hurrying white masses driving inland -and carrying the breath of fog. They had blotted out the sun and were -sweeping their torn edges over the blue. If they kept on it would be -dark to-night--no moon--but there was the man at the causeway. - -She sat with drooped head immersed in thought, her hands thrust into -the pockets of her sweater. It was thus that Bassett found her. Life -leaped into her face at his voice and she stretched a hand toward him. - -“Oh, I’ve been hoping to see you,” she breathed, already trained to a -low wariness of tone. - -The words, the gesture, pierced his heart. She looked so disconsolate, -so wan, her face the pallor of ivory, her black hair always shining -smooth, pushed back from her brow in roughened strands. He had charged -himself to keep from her any knowledge of the interest in Joe, but had -he been of the loose-tongued sort that unburdened itself, the sight of -her devastated beauty would have sealed his lips. - -He sat down beside her and took her hand in his. In her turn she had -been shocked by his appearance, worn, his ruddy firm-fleshed face riven -with lines. - -“I thought I was never going to get a word with you,” he said. “This is -the first moment I’ve had. How are you?” - -She asserted her well-being, and he studied her face with anxious eyes. - -“Dear Anne,” he murmured, and lifting her hand, pressed it to his lips. -The two hands remained together, the woman’s upcurled inside the man’s -enveloping grasp. - -“That faint feeling last night, I suppose that will bleach you out for -a while?” - -“Oh, I’m all over that. It was a crazy thing for me to do, going down -and then knocking the lamp over. They didn’t think anything of it, did -they?” - -“Anything of it? Why no, what would they think? You explained it to -them and they were satisfied with what you said. And afterward I told -Williams that he could absolutely trust your word.” - -“I gave a great deal of trouble and----” Her voice was husky and she -cleared her throat. He was worried by the coldness of her hand and -sought to warm it by enclosing it more tightly in his. After a moment -she went on: - -“I suppose you can’t tell me anything--anything of what they’re doing?” - -“No. It’s all a mess so far--feeling about in the dark--nothing sure.” - -“But they must be feeling about after some one?” - -“Darling, what’s the good of talking about it? It’s only going round -and round the same subject like a squirrel in a cage. We don’t get many -minutes together and we don’t want to spoil them. Let’s try to forget -just while we’re here.” - -“Forget!” she exclaimed. “Nothing would make me do that but being dead -myself.” - -She leaned her head on his shoulder and drew her hand from his to clasp -it round his arm. He said nothing for a moment, perturbed by her words -and tone. He had thought of getting her away, having her moved to -Hayworth. Now he felt he must do it at once, the shadow of the tragedy -was too dark on her spirit. - -“I’ve got to get her out of here if I go to jail for it,” he said to -himself. “She can’t stand much more of this.” - -She too was silent for a space, stilled by the attack of a sudden -temptation. His tenderness had weakened her, the gulf between them -seemed too much to bear when the way was so perilous to travel alone. -She wanted to be close to him again, break down the barriers and extend -her arms to him for succor and support. He would calm the upwellings -of terror that rose in her, perhaps have some man’s solution for her -desperate problem. The desire to tell him gripped her, undermined -her will like a disintegrating drug. She did not dare to broach it -suddenly, sense enough remained in her to go carefully, step by step. - -“I wonder if any one here _does_ know something and is keeping it back.” - -“It may be--too frightened to speak.” - -“Well, if they did--I mean something that looks suspicious, might be a -help--they’d be expected to tell, wouldn’t they?” - -“If it were anything definite. Just to take up their time with a lot -of vague surmises is the last thing they want. People get stampeded in -a case like this, butt in with all sorts of silly leads and theories.” -He gave her an uneasy side glance. “Are you imagining that you know -something you ought to tell?” - -“No, oh, no. But I keep thinking of it, all kinds of possibilities.” - -“Can’t you stop thinking of it? I wish you would.” - -“Oh, Hugh, how can any one? It fills up your mind so that nothing -else can get in. It would be so terrible to have to confess something -against another person.” - -He nodded and murmured, “Terrible, all right.” - -“I don’t see how one could do it. Now, you, if you were in that -position--had suspicions of some one?” - -“I don’t tell them, that’s not my province. I’m here to assist, not to -direct them.” - -“Just say what you’re sure of?” - -“Exactly. What I know, what I can vouch for as fact. I wish to God I -_could_ furnish some that would lead us in the right direction.” - -She said nothing, her cheek against his shoulder, her head bent down -till her face was hidden from him. He looked at the grass at his feet -in harassed survey of his obligation: - -“I’m the only person here they know anything about, that they care -to trust. It’s a devilish position, trying to hide what you think, -trying to state only what you know, fairly, without personal feeling -or prejudice. But it’s up to me to do it till we round up something. I -don’t want to get anybody in wrong, but, good lord, if I knew any one -was--didn’t guess, was _sure_ of it--I’d give the information up just -as quick as I could get across to that library.” - -Her hope was over and she saw now how wild it had been. With a heart -like stone she sat by him, feeling the contact of his body, his arm -pressed against her side, knowing herself as far removed from his -comfort and help as though an ocean lay between them. - -The light in the garden was fading, an even soft dusk was gathering. -There were no splendors of sunset to-night, day was dying without -ceremonial rites. The hurrying clouds had thickened and were a sagging -gray pall with rays of fog drifting below. Suddenly the doorway of the -living-room sprang into the dimness, an illumined square, and Miss -Pinkney was visible moving about lighting the lamps. - -“No moon to-night,” said Bassett, and getting up, drew her to her feet. -“Come, let’s go in. It’s too chilly for you out here.” - -It was not till they had gathered round the supper table that Rawson’s -absence was revealed. Miss Pinkney, coming in with the teapot, saw the -empty chair and frowned. Though subdued, her spirit was not broken, and -she could not tamely submit to these minions of the law disregarding -the meal hours. - -“Is Mr. Rawson coming to his supper?” she remarked with an acid note. - -“Mr. Rawson’s away on business,” Williams answered. “You can keep -something for him.” - -No more was said and the meal proceeded on its dismal way. - - - - -XIV - - -AFTER supper Bassett and Williams retired to the library. They were -surprised and intrigued by the length of Rawson’s absence. He had been -gone over two hours and what could have held him on the mainland so -long was difficult to imagine unless a new lead had developed. This -was Bassett’s idea, also his hope. To have suspicion lifted from Flora -would be the first lightening of the grinding distress he had felt -since the murder. Williams wondered if he could have come on anything -about Joe Tracy; but Bassett shook the suggestion off with a shrug. He -could check up on Joe in half an hour; besides, there was nothing to be -looked for in that line. His confidence was not assumed, his mind was -untroubled by any fears about Joe. That something had turned up which -might head the chase in a new direction was so encouraging a thought, -that, by contrast to his sensations for the last twenty-four hours, he -felt almost cheerful. - -In the relaxation of the strain he was conscious of fatigue for the -first time. He threw himself on the sofa and in a moment had sunk into -the deep deathlike sleep of exhaustion. Williams, sitting near the -telephone also nodded, his big body sagged together in the chair, his -chin embedded in his chest. - -The group in the living-room, viewed by the uninformed spectator, -might have been the usual evening gathering of an informal Gull Island -house-party. They had shut the garden door against draughts and with -the inland entrance open wide the place was scented with a sharp sea -tang and cool with the breath of the ocean. The tide, full-brimming, -lay a dark circle about them, no moonlit path or silvered eddies -to-night, the channel a solid swath of black between them and the -clustering shore lights. - -They made a deceptively quiet picture, pleasant, agreeable-looking -people resting in reposeful attitudes after a day in the open air. -Shine was looking at a book of engravings spread on the end of the -table. Mrs. Cornell had brought in Miss Pinkney after the business of -washing up--Mrs. Cornell found Miss Pinkney’s society so fortifying -that she sought it at all hours--and together they made a feint of -playing a double solitaire. Anne and Flora sat near by reclining in -armchairs, both silent, with the fixed eyes of preoccupation. Stokes -was the sole member of the company whose inner unrest broke out in -movement. He paced back and forth before the fireplace, quick long -strides over the bear rug to the hall door and back again. Once or -twice the edge of the rug caught his toe and he kicked it out of his -way with a violent angry jerk of his foot. - -When the minutes ticked away and no one came to overlook or overhear, -a cautious trickle of talk began to flow. Question and answer crossed, -low-toned, interrupted by warning looks at the hall door. Where had -Rawson gone, what could he be after? That the question lay uppermost -in all their minds was shown by the quick response to the first, -murmured tentative, the comprehension of sentences left unfinished -with only the query in the eyes to point their meaning. The drooping -attitudes gave place to a tense eagerness of pose, heads thrust forward -on craned necks. Shine forgot his book, the cards lay scattered beneath -the hands of Mrs. Cornell and Miss Pinkney, and Flora edged her chair -closer. Their voices, hushed by fears, were fused in a murmurous hum, -rising as the subject swept their interest higher, checked in sudden -minutes of listening alarm. - -Rawson must have got hold of some information, gone afield on a -new clue. Then followed speculations, surmises, suggestions--wild, -fantastic, probable. It might have been nothing Shine thought, simply -a trip to the county-seat on business connected with the case. At this -Anne crept into the circle of lamplight, nodding an avid agreement. -Stokes coming forward caught his foot in the edge of the bear rug, -stumbled and broke into a stream of curses. Miss Pinkney, who thought -oaths anywhere reprehensible and on Gull Island profanation, grimly -bade him lift his feet. He glared at her, more curses imminent, and -Flora groaned, clutching the arms of her chair and rolling her eyes -upward. - -“For God’s sake don’t mind anything anybody says,” implored Mrs. -Cornell slapping her hands down among the cards. “This is a murder -case, not a social function.” - -They calmed down and presently, with no more ideas to exchange, grew -silent listening for the returning launch. It was a listening so wrapt -that the room became as still as a picture and they as motionless as -pictured figures. The ticking of the clock was audible, the sucking -clinking sounds of the water along the shore. The significance of what -they awaited grew with the minutes till the coming of the launch seemed -an event of fearful import upon which their fates hung. - -The entrance of Williams shook them from their terrors. If his face -told them nothing, his manner was kindly gruff--they must be tired, -best thing for them to go to bed. As they rose and trailed limply to -the doors he beckoned Shine to remain. He would want him later, had a -job for him, so he’d better go now and get some sleep. His room was on -that floor, the butler’s? All right, he’d find him. Shine departed, -grateful. He was half-dead with sleep, but had kept it hidden as he -had his hunger, regarding both as unmanly weaknesses in the hour of -calamity. - -Williams went back to the library where Bassett still slept. He looked -at his watch--a quarter to nine. He couldn’t understand it--what -could Rawson have got hold of on the mainland when it was as plain as -printing Mrs. Stokes was the guilty party. He started and moved to the -window; the throbbing beat of an engine came through the silence, a low -spark of light was advancing from the opposite shore. - -When he heard the boat grinding against the wharf he waked Bassett. - -“Rawson’s coming. And it’s nearly nine.” - -Rawson came in by the window, his eyes blinking in the room’s -brightness. He came briskly, with something of theatrical effect in -his silent entrance, his purposeful walk to the desk. Bassett at once -noticed a change in him, a suggestion of enhanced forces, of faculties -recharged with energy. He tried to look stern but satisfaction shone in -his eyes and lit his long lantern-jawed face. He was like the bearer of -good tidings who would have worn the high smile of triumph if a smile -were fitting. - -“Well,” said Williams, “where the devil have you been?” - -“Down the coast, twenty-five miles, on roads that would have put -anything but a flivver out of commission.” - -“You got something?” - -“I did--this time. We’re on the right track now if I’m not much -mistaken.” - -Williams gave an incredulous grunt. He did not believe in new material -and in advance placed himself in stubborn opposition: - -“What did you go down the coast for?” - -“To find a man called Gabriel Harvey.” - -Bassett, about to sit down, stopped in surprise: - -“Gabriel Harvey?-- That’s our launchman.” - -“Exactly. And I had a devil of a time to find him. Down in a place -called White Beach, hidden away with friends in a shack without a -telephone.” - -“But why----” - -“I’ll tell you.” Rawson dropped into the desk chair, and, his elbows -on the arms, leaned forward, his eyes behind their glasses traveling -from one face to the other. “I went over there to look into Joe Tracy’s -movements. I couldn’t find any one who’d seen him come ashore and -learned that the man Gabriel who took him over, had gone to this place -White Beach for deep-sea fishing. Not being able to get hold of him I -went to the station to see if I could gather up anything. And I did. -The baggage man told me Gabriel had been there before he left for White -Beach leaving a suit-case and fishing-rod to be held till Tracy called -for them. They’re there now. I saw them.” - -Williams said nothing, not ready with argument till more was divulged. -Bassett, in blank amazement, ejaculated: - -“Why, that’s the most extraordinary thing----” - -“Wait, Mr. Bassett,” Rawson raised a long commanding hand. “I hung -round till the evening train came in; that’s the train Tracy was to -take. I saw the conductor--it’s a small branch road and travel is light -at that hour--and he remembered his passengers, two women and a child. -Those were the only people who left Hayworth on the seven-fifteen, the -last evening train. I went back to the village and made inquiries. -Tracy had hired no vehicle at the garage or livery stable, nor had he -been seen anywhere about the place. Then I got a car and went to White -Beach. I was some time locating the old chap, but I finally ran him -down. He said he had not taken Tracy across to the mainland last night.” - -Rawson dropped back in his chair. In answer to Bassett’s expression he -nodded soberly: - -“Yes, it’s a pretty queer business. Gabriel said he’d told the boy to -be on time; made it clear to him that he wouldn’t wait. When Tracy was -not on the wharf he went to the house to look for him, saw his bag -and fishing-rod in the doorway and took them. No one was about and he -left--not sorry, I inferred from what he said, to give ‘the young cub’ -as he called him, a lesson.” - -Bassett got up: - -“But it’s incomprehensible,” he exclaimed. “I can’t make head nor tail -of it. No one ever questioned that he’d gone.” - -“No one said they’d seen him go but his sister,” came from Williams. - -Bassett wheeled on him: - -“Yes, you asked her. Didn’t she say she’d seen him?” - -“No.” Rawson’s voice was dryly quiet. “I’ve thought of that. What she -said was that he went. In all fairness to her she probably thought -so--took it for granted as you all did--that he’d gone.” - -“But why? What’s the meaning of it? If he’d missed the boat he’d have -turned up, he’d be here now.” - -“Oh, he didn’t miss the boat,” said Rawson. - -“Well, then, what was he doing? What made him stay?” In the turmoil of -his amazement, this sudden precipitation of a new mystery, Bassett had -not yet grasped the sinister trend of the other’s thoughts. - -“Why,” said Rawson slowly, “he might have been staying for a purpose.” - -“What purpose?” - -“Can’t you imagine a purpose, Mr. Bassett?” - -“Good God, you don’t mean to say you think he _did it_?” - -“I’m not saying anything yet. But I’d like you to tell me how you -explain it. He says he’s going, leads every one to think he’s going, -makes all the preparations for his departure, then secretly, without -divulging any change of plans, doesn’t go. Aren’t those actions--well -to put it mildly--questionable?” - -“Yes--the whole thing’s inexplicable as we see it now.” - -“And note this. He had cause for anger against Miss Saunders--she’d -given him away to you--and you yourself have told us that he had an -ungovernable temper.” - -“He had a devilish temper and a damned mean disposition and I make no -doubt he was blazing mad with her. But that he’d go to work to kill her -in cold blood, lay in wait for her--no--you can’t make me think that.” - -“Same here,” said Williams. “You ain’t got enough provocation. With -Mrs. Stokes you have--a woman jealous of her husband.” - -“And you’ve got a man,” retorted Rawson, “moved by one of the passions -that lead oftenest to murder--revenge.” - -“Revenge?” echoed Williams. - -“Miss Saunders’ accusation, if true,--and I think it was,--would ruin -him in his profession. He learned what she’d done to him just before he -was due to leave.” - -A chill passed through Bassett--revenge was a word that fitted Joe. But -he cast the thought out, moving away from the desk and exclaiming with -angry repudiation: - -“Oh, it’s unthinkable, preposterous.” - -“What but an evil intention could have made him act as he did?” - -“Any number of things. It may be a prank--a practical joke we’ll get -an explanation of later. He may have invented the story of his fishing -trip and gone off with a girl.” - -“Had he a girl?” - -“I don’t know--also he may have done something dishonest, got in -wrong some way--he was capable of it, I’m not defending him--and been -frightened and lit out.” - -“How did he get off?” - -Bassett’s voice was raised in his exasperation: - -“Good lord, Rawson, we weren’t jailed here then. He could have had a -boat hidden in one of the coves. This place wasn’t escape-proof till -you turned up. He could have rowed ashore and landed anywhere, and -that’s what he’s done.” - -“Unless he’s here.” - -“Here on the island?” - -“That’s my opinion, in hiding on the island.” - -Williams spoke with an air of patient reminder: - -“Ain’t we gone over it with a fine-tooth comb?” - -Rawson pointed to the ceiling: - -“How about that top story? A person--we won’t say who--could have -killed the woman, entered the house while the rest of you were on the -beach, put back the pistol, and gone up-stairs.” - -Williams made a motion to heave himself up from his chair. - -“Well, if that’s how you feel about it let’s go up and have a look for -the person.” - -“We needn’t do that just now. They’re as safe as if they were behind -bars. There’s something I want to do down here first--have a talk with -Miss Tracy. She may be able to give us a little light.” - -“She can’t help you,” said Bassett. “They weren’t on confidential -terms. She’d be the last person he’d tell anything to.” - -He believed what he said, but his heart sank. Anne to be dragged -through another interrogation, an interrogation with a hideous -suspicion behind it! - -Rawson rose: - -“Perhaps so, but it’s worth trying. She may know more than you think; -sisters sometimes do. And she certainly must have more knowledge of him -than any of us. We’ll soon see.” - -He moved toward the door. - -“I’ll go up and get her now.” - - - - -XV - - -WHEN Anne went up to her room she took a seat by the window where she -could see the channel. It was an undecipherable blackness, its farther -limit defined by the shore lights. But the night was very still, the -sagging weight of cloud hung low pressing down sounds. She could hear -the barking of dogs, the cries of children, a snatch of song from -the mainland. In this intense quiet the first explosive throbs of a -starting launch would be carried clearly across the sounding board of -the water. - -She kept telling herself that Rawson’s absence had nothing to do with -Joe. She had been telling herself the same thing ever since Williams’ -remark at supper. She gave her reasons for thinking so, as if she -were trying to convince an adversary who was maintaining an opposing -position. It was as Shine had said, Rawson had gone on some business -they knew nothing of. There must be endless business connected with -such a case. She remembered murder cases she had read of in the -papers--accounts of false leads, trails picked up and dropped, legal -questions of state and county authority. - -Then across the water, running along the surface in stuttering -reverberations, came the sound of the launch’s engine starting. -She saw the light leave the shore and come sliding forward, moving -smoothly like a light held in a steady hand. Below it a golden dagger -stabbed down into the glossy blackness of the current. She watched it -approaching, the inside of her mouth like leather, her clenched hands -wet. - -When it had disappeared round the end of the house she faced the door -and stood waiting. Her power to argue with herself was gone--if he had -found out anything he might come for her. She calculated his movements: -in the library now, talking with the others. A long time seemed to -pass. The stifling pulsations of her heart died down, and moving with -an exquisite quietness as if any sound she made might bridge the space -and call them running to surprise her guilty terror, she stole to the -door and opened it a crack. The living-room was lighted but empty; they -were in the library, shut in. Again a time passed and again her heart -calmed to a slower beat. It must be business, the business that had -nothing to do with Joe. - -She closed the door and decided now she might rest, not go to bed yet, -but lie down and try to get back to courage and control. She took off -her dress and put on her negligée, and with hands raised to loosen her -hair heard a step on the stairs. It struck upon her ear, heavy and -quick, a man’s step, and she remained as she was, her arms lifted, her -eyes staring into her reflected eyes in the mirror. She stood thus till -it stopped at her door. When the knock came and Rawson’s voice spoke -her name, the hands dropped and she moved to the door. - -“Can you come down-stairs for a minute?” the voice said, low and -guarded. “I’m sorry to ask you to get up.” - -She opened the door. “I hadn’t gone to bed. Yes, of course I’ll come. -You want to----” - -“Just ask you a few more questions. I’m glad I didn’t wake you.” - -She followed him along the passage and down the stairs. They crossed -the living-room side by side, Rawson with long strides, she with short -quick steps. There was a sense of hurry in their progress as if they -were hastening to some ominous goal. When she entered the library her -glance fell on Bassett facing her across the room, his brows drawn -low over the dark trouble of his eyes. His look told her of anxiety, -apprehension and a passionate concern for her. She gave it back, -feeling a desperate cold courage run to her fainting senses. - -Williams indicated an armchair near the desk: - -“Take a seat, Miss Tracy. Sorry we’ve had to call you down.” - -She fell into it and, as the men settled themselves in theirs, ran her -tongue along her dry lips and took a deep breath of air into her lungs. -Then she raised her chin and looked at them, inquiringly attentive. -During the passage of the look she laid the charge on her mind to go -cautiously and not be afraid. - -“We’ve been making some inquiries about your brother, Miss Tracy,” -Rawson began. “About his leaving here. You told us, as I remember, that -you knew he went.” - -“Why, yes, he went.” - -“Did you see him go?” - -“Well, no, I didn’t actually _see_ him, but that wouldn’t prevent--” -She stopped and looked from one to the other of the watching -faces--“What do you mean?” - -She must find out what they knew before she ventured. - -“Then you _didn’t_ see him?” - -“No--I didn’t see the boat go, I was up-stairs, but of course he went.” - -“We’ve found out that he didn’t,” said Rawson. - -“Didn’t go, didn’t go back with Gabriel? Wh--why--” She swept them with -an alarmed look which fetched up on Bassett. “Why, that’s not possible!” - -“Mr. Rawson’s seen Gabriel.” Bassett spoke very gently. “And he says he -didn’t take Joe over.” - -“But I don’t understand. He was all ready. I said good-by to him.” - -“When was that?” - -“In his room, just a little while before he went. He was waiting there, -everything packed and ready, waiting for the boat.” - -“And he said nothing to you about changing his plans?” - -“No, I don’t believe he had changed his plans. It was his holiday, he’d -been looking forward to it, he was crazy to go.” - -“Did he make any mention of an interview he’d had with Mr. Bassett?” - -“No--I don’t think he said a thing about Mr. Bassett.” - -“And he told you he was going, wanted to go. Was he jolly and -good-humored like a person starting on a holiday?” - -“Yes--why shouldn’t he be? It was what he’d been longing to do for -years. After I left him I went to my room and dressed and when I went -down-stairs I saw that his bag and fishing-rod, which he told me he’d -left by the entrance, were gone, and I thought of course he was. And he -has, he’s gone some other way.” - -Bassett looked at Rawson and murmured: - -“That’s the explanation.” - -Rawson went on without noticing: - -“Do you know of any adventures, schemes, he might have had in his head -that would make him want to fool you, steal off without letting you -know?” - -“No, but I wouldn’t. He didn’t tell me much. Boys don’t like their -sisters interfering.” - -“When you saw him in his room did he say anything about Miss Saunders?” - -“Miss Saunders? No--he was talking about his trip. But what are you -asking me all these questions for? If he didn’t go the way you thought -what does it matter?” - -“_You’re_ sure he’s gone?” Rawson’s emphasis on the pronoun was heavy. - -She looked at him with startled eyes: - -“Yes, aren’t you? Why, you don’t think he’s _here_?” - -It was evident that she had not grasped the sinister aspect of -Joe’s mysterious actions. It struck Bassett as odd, for he knew her -intelligence and her anxious doubts of the boy. What she had been -through, shock and lack of sleep, had blunted her perceptions. He -prayed she would get through the interview without comprehending and he -did not see how she could. - -“How could he be here?” she went on, that look of naive astonishment -fastened on Rawson. “What for? And if he was--if he’d missed the boat -or changed his mind--wouldn’t he be with us all, here among the rest of -us? Of course he’s gone--he’s on his way to the woods now where he was -going.” - -Rawson addressed Bassett: - -“Didn’t you tell me he was to stop to-night in Bangor and meet his -friend?” - -“Yes--they were to start out in the morning.” - -“Where were they staying?” - -“Some hotel, I don’t know the name. Do you remember it, Anne?” - -She shook her head: “No. If he told me I’ve forgotten. I’ve no idea -what it was.” - -“Hold on a minute,” said Williams, stretching out his hand. “Shine -spoke to me about that. He was asking about a hotel in Bangor young -Tracy recommended--the Algonquin Inn. That may be it.” - -Rawson swung the desk chair round and drew the telephone to him: - -“We can find out in a minute.” - -They sat without moving while Rawson made the connection. As he spoke -the two men leaned forward, eagerly waiting, the girl drooped back in -her chair, her hands in her lap, her glance on the floor. - -“Is there a Mr. Tracy there--Joe Tracy?” And then a period of -listening, punctuated with grunts of assent from Rawson. Then, “Mr. -Travers has gone--left on the six-fifteen this evening--I see.” A -silent stretch and a final “Thanks--that’s all I wanted. Much obliged.” -The receiver clicked into its hook, and Rawson swung the chair toward -them: - -“Travers has been there waiting since last night. Tracy never showed -up. Travers had no message from him and left this evening for Moosehead -Lake.” - -For a moment there was no comment. Anne raised her eyes, the sides of -the room looked a long way off and the light seemed to have intensified -to a violent glare as if she were sitting in the midst of a dazzling -illumination. The men’s faces were turned to her, glazed by the -radiance like glistening masks. - -“I don’t know what to make of that,” she said, the words dropping -slowly with spaces between. - -“Neither do we, Miss Tracy,” said Rawson, and leaning back, his -hands clasped over his stomach, he gazed intently at her through his -horn-rimmed glasses. - -The glow increased, wrapped her round in a flame-like heat that ran -along her skin in prickling points. It shone on the lenses of Rawson’s -glasses which seemed to grow larger and come nearer, malignly glaring. - -“Yes, you do,” she said and heard her voice hoarse and changed. “You’ve -made something of it already. And what you’ve made is lies--wicked -lies.” - -Then she had seen it. Bassett made a step forward, but she leaped to -her feet, oblivious of him: - -“You think he did it, just because you can’t find him. That’s all he’s -done, gone away. You must be crazy. What would he do it _for_? Don’t -you have to have a reason to commit murder?” - -Williams was sorry for her, a pallid panting creature shaken out of her -gentle semblance by an unexpected revelation. “Come now, Miss Tracy,” -he urged. “Don’t get worked up.” - -But she paid no heed, pouring out her words at Rawson who remained -without change of position, looking fixedly at her. - -“They weren’t good friends. I don’t know why--I asked her but she -wouldn’t tell me. And what was it--a quarrel, a grievance? But that -wouldn’t make him want to _kill_ her!” - -“I’ve told them that, Anne,” Bassett implored; “there’s no use going -over it.” - -She made a motion for him to keep silent and moved nearer Rawson. - -“It is strange his going away like that--I’ll admit it. But he -did strange things; and does every one always do what’s sensible -and reasonable? Because he happened to act in a way that we can’t -understand is no proof he’s a murderer. He didn’t do it, he couldn’t -have done it. And to think that he’s here! Where would he be? Haven’t -you searched the whole island? He’s gone, even if he didn’t meet Jimmy -Travers. He’s gone somewhere else.” - -Rawson leaned suddenly forward and caught her by the wrist: - -“What did you see last night in the living-room?” - -If he had meant to surprise her he failed of his purpose. She hung back -from his grip and said with defiant emphasis: - -“_I saw nothing!_” - -“Are you sure it was a book you came down for?” - -“It was a book, as I told you.” - -“You could read a few hours after your friend was murdered?” - -“I could try to read--it was better than thinking.” - -“You’ve got a pretty cool head, Miss Tracy,” he added, and relinquished -her hand. She fell back in her chair as if his hold upon her had been -all that sustained her in an upright position. He rose, looking down at -her, curious and unsatisfied: - -“I guess we’ll call a halt for a while. We’ve other work to attend to. -But wait here till we come back; we may have to do some more talking.” -He turned to Williams and gave a jerk of his head toward the hall. -“Come on, we’ll go up there now.” - -He walked to the door, Williams following him. As it shut after them -Bassett went to her and bent over her chair. She held him off with a -hand on his breast and whispered: - -“Where are they going?” - -“Up-stairs, to the top story.” - -She clutched the lapels of his coat: - -“He’s there, he’s up there.” - -“He--who?” - -“Joe!” - -Bassett stared into her eyes. He thought her senses were giving way: - -“Anne, darling, what’s the matter? Joe’s not here--you’ve just said so -yourself.” - -“I said what wasn’t true--he’s there.” - -He caught her arms and drew her to her feet: - -“What do you mean?” - -“I know it, I’ve seen him.” - -“Seen Joe himself?” - -“Last night when I came down for the book. He’s hiding up there--I -thought he was safe. And now they’ll find him.” - -Bassett knew she was telling the truth. His mind took a sweep backward -over the last twenty-four hours--she had known it all along, played -a desperate game single-handed. In flashes of retrospect came her -questions to him in the garden, her ashen face when they had burst in -upon her the night before. The situation, accepted and familiar, was -suddenly shaken apart like the pattern in a kaleidoscope and had fallen -into another shape, a shape so unexpected and horrible that he stood -frozen looking over her shoulder into its unfolding dreadfulness. - -“What can I do--what can I do?” Her whisper pierced to his brain and -her hands jerked at his coat in frantic urgency. - -“Nothing now. They’ve gone, we can’t stop them. But tell me the -rest--how did you know--tell me everything.” - -“I saw the launch go without him and I was going to speak to you, but -Shine was there and I couldn’t. Then she was killed and I didn’t know -what to think, where he’d gone, anything! But that night I heard them -say there was a man on guard at the causeway, and I came down to tell -him in case he was here and would try to get across. And then I saw -him.” - -“Where?” - -“In the living-room. He came from the door into the kitchen wing and I -whispered it.” - -“Did he say anything?” - -“No--just ran the way he’d come in. And then I knew--” she stopped -and closed her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t know it but I thought it. _Can_ it -be true--could he have done it? One minute I’m sure and then I can’t -believe it; and I don’t know, I don’t know.” - -She pressed her face against his chest and he held her close, saying -anything he could think of that might sustain her--they knew nothing -yet--it was all guesswork--something might turn up that would explain -it. He did not believe what he said--knowing more than she he had no -doubts--and under his words his thoughts searched wildly for possible -ways of coming to her aid. - -“Oh, God grant it, God grant it!” she groaned, and drawing away from -him ran to the door, and opening it, stood listening. He followed her -and with pauses for that tense listening, she told him of her visit to -the top floor. - -“He didn’t answer you?” he said. “Then he might not have been there.” - -“Where else could he be?” - -“Outside. He could see us going over the island from one of those upper -windows. After we’d finished he could have slipped out again, knowing -he was safe there.” - -She saw the possibilities of this and hung on them, left the door and -conning them over, paced about the room. Presently they could bear the -shut-in space no longer and crept through the hall to the living-room. -They stood on the threshold, subduing their breathing that no sound -might interfere with their entranced attention. The silence of the -house lay round them like an enshrouding essence. Far away the rhythm -of the waves came and went, faint and regular, like the pulsing of the -world’s heart tranquilly beating in some infinitely remote realm of -peace. - -They returned to the library and, as the minutes passed and the strain -increased, stood motionless and dumb as statues, waiting, listening. -They felt as if everything but that room and their suspense had ceased -to exist, as if time had stopped and this one fearful hour was to -stretch out forever. - -Then a sound from the distant reaches of the house broke it--the -descending feet of the men. Bassett pulled her away from the door, -closed it and drew her to the middle of the room. - -“Will you help me?” she whispered. “Will you help me whatever happens?” - -He nodded, there was no time now for words. He motioned her to sit -down, and moved back from her, listening to the steps which were -crossing the living-room, entering the hall. Were they louder than -they had been going up, were there three pair of feet where there had -been two? They stopped at the door, it opened and Rawson and Williams -entered. - -Williams threw an electric torch on the desk and said to Bassett with a -sardonic grin: - -“Nothing doing.” - -Rawson spoke to Anne: - -“You can go up-stairs, Miss Tracy. We’ll put off the rest of our talk -till to-morrow. You better try to get some rest. And kindly remember to -stay in your room. I don’t want any mistakes made about that to-night.” - -She murmured words of compliance and rising with pale composure left -the library. - -When the door shut on her Bassett said: “You got nothing up there at -all?” - -It had been difficult to frame the question. Since they had left his -position with regard to them had undergone a horrible change. He did -not know how horrible till this first moment of encounter when he saw -them ready to meet him in his old rôle. He felt a surge of repudiation -and then heard Anne’s whisper at his ear. It drowned the call of his -conscience, was louder than the guiding voices that had heretofore -governed his life. She was fighting alone, she had begged his help and -he was her lover. - -“Not a thing,” answered Rawson. “But we were at a disadvantage; not -enough light, and it’s a good-sized place. There’s a big store-room -full of junk, messed up with stuff, and one of the electric bulbs is -broken. We couldn’t go over that thoroughly, and he may have found -a cache there. We’ll comb it over to-morrow morning by daylight. Of -course he could have got out on the island--all that kitchen wing’s -kept open. He might have been lying low up there all yesterday and have -come down last night.” - -“And his sister saw him.” Williams laughed with good-humored derision. -“You didn’t get anything out of her, Rawson.” - -“No, I didn’t. She’s either a very smart young lady, or an entirely -innocent one. I’m not sure which. But she _did_ lead us to believe -he’d gone when he hadn’t, she _did_ come down-stairs on a pretty -fishy errand, and she _did_ forget the name of the hotel he’d gone to. -All quite possible but--well, we’ll know to-morrow.” He walked to the -window and looked out. “Dark as a pocket!” He turned to Bassett: “When -the tide’s full out could a person get across that channel except by -the causeway?” - -“There are places where they might swim the stream in the middle. It’s -a deep strong current but a good swimmer could do it.” - -“He might try it--he must be pretty keen about getting off here. You -know this shore-line. Suppose you go down and take up a station below -the boat-house among those juniper bushes. That’s a place a person -might use as a sheltered start for a get-away. You can’t see but you -can hear. Take Williams’ gun, and if there’s a sound, challenge, if -there’s no answer, shoot. I’ll come down with you, I want to take a -look at Patrick and I’ll stay round myself for a while.” - -He stepped to the sill of the window but Williams, feeling for his -revolver, stopped him: - -“Hold on a minute. I got an idea that I think’ll help a bit. I’ve been -thinking of it all day and if I’m not mistaken it’ll land your man or -your woman neater and easier than lying in wait for them outside where -they know by this time we’ve got a guard.” - -Rawson turned back into the room: - -“Let’s hear it--we want to clear this up to-night. But, Mr. Bassett, -you go on. Stop and tell Patrick what you’re doing and see that he’s on -the job. I’ll be down with him later, unless Williams’ idea opens up -something new.” - -Bassett took the revolver and stepped out of the window. - -The night was muffling dark; beyond the long squares of light the -windows cast, it lay a velvet blackness, the murmurs of the falling -tide issuing from it as if it had a voice which was whispering its -secrets. - -The outside darkness had a reflex on his own soul. As his body moved -forward into its shadowless density, his spirit sank deeper into an -enshrouding gloom. He saw Anne in a circling whirlpool, being sucked -nearer and nearer to the vortex. She knew Joe had never gone, had -connived at his concealment, had lied to them at every turn--accessory -after the fact. If they got the boy there was no way of extricating -her and it was impossible that they should not get him, held here, all -means of escape cut off. To-night, at the latest to-morrow, Joe would -be haled before them. He thought of anything he could do, any wild -act within the compass of human daring and ingenuity, and could find -nothing. - -He reached the boat-house and groped his way about it to find Patrick. -Coming round the angle where the man was stationed he pronounced his -name and was surprised to get no answer. He stretched a feeling hand -which came in contact with a large warm bulk, immovable under his touch -and giving forth a sound of heavy regular breathing. His own breathing -stifled, his movements noiseless as a cat’s, he struck a match and -sheltering it with his curved hand, held it out. In its glow he saw -Patrick huddled on the bench, his shoulders braced against the wall, -his head drooped forward in profound sleep. - -He dropped the match and put his foot on it. With the extinguishing of -its tiny gleam the darkness closed blacker than before and he had to -feel for the wall behind him, drawing close against it. The thought of -his trust rose hazy in the hinterlands of his mind like the memory of -some distant state of being in which he once had existed. - -Pressed against the wall, he calculated the distances about him. The -approach to the causeway was to his right, an incline of rocky steps, -and in the stillness he could hear the lightest foot descending them. -On such a night Joe might venture again--would venture if his nerve -still held. If he did it would be within the next hour, and if Patrick -slept and Rawson did not come he would go by unchallenged. - -A fitful breeze arose, carrying sea odors. He saw the lights in the -house go out, and the darkness close, solid and even, over where they -had been. He heard the murmurings of the tide growing lower, fainter, -till they sunk to silence and he knew the bed of the channel was -uncovered. - - - - -XVI - - -WILLIAMS thought highly of his idea. It had come to him that morning -while thinking of the person he had heard descending the stairs, the -person he insisted was Mrs. Stokes. In its inception it had been -directed chiefly at that lady, but now with the mystery complicated by -the intrusion of a new figure its usefulness would be extended. The -thing that was aimed at Mrs. Stokes, would include Joe Tracy. That was -how he put it to Rawson to gain the consent and cooperation of his -superior. For he had little interest in Joe Tracy himself, inclining -to agree with Bassett and Anne that the boy had nothing to do with the -murder and was not on the island. - -It was a simple and practicable plan--a watch kept for the rest of the -night on the stairs and certain points of exit. In the face of positive -orders two people had come from the upper floor the night before, Miss -Tracy on an errand that Rawson thought suspicious, Mrs. Stokes, in -Williams’ opinion, to communicate with her husband. Even if both men -were wrong some powerful incentive was making them take such risks and -it was natural to suppose that incentive might be strengthened after -twenty-four hours of strain and uncertainty. They might try it again, -and to catch them at it, surprise them in the act--if they didn’t break -down on the spot--a little grilling would do the job. - -As for the boy--if he was still in the top story as Rawson thought, -he’d certainly not stay there after they’d been searching the place for -him. He’d know they were on his trail, that his only hope was getting -away and the night was dark enough to tempt him. If he was outside he’d -discover his escape was cut off and what would he want then--food? He’d -see himself faced by starvation and the place he’d make for would be -the kitchen. - -Rawson looked at his assistant with an approving eye. The idea -was good, excellent, and without waste of time they arranged the -distribution of the watch. - -Williams would take the front stairs, his particular prey was there -and he had already located the position of the electric-light button. -Rawson would station himself in the kitchen with its two doors one -to the outside, one to the hall. As Williams had pointed out it was -the place to which Joe, escape blocked, would inevitably turn. The -living-room they would assign to Shine, less important than either of -the other ambushes, but commanding the entrance to the side wing and -the path to the causeway and dock. Any one descending the back stairs -to make an exit from the house would either turn to the kitchen or go -through the living-room, and whichever way they took, would run into -a trap. The men were satisfied, each one was detailed to the spot -where he might expect to apprehend the object of his suspicion. The -living-room, central and exposed, might safely be left to Shine. - -They found Shine in the butler’s room sleeping soundly on the outside -of the bed. He was acquainted with the plan, and stumbling and -heavy-eyed followed them. In the hall Rawson left them, taking his way -to his hiding-place, the other two faring on to the scene of Shine’s -duties. Here he received his instructions, special emphasis being laid -on the door that led to the kitchen wing and the back stairs. Shine -looked from the door to Williams with a perplexed frown. He did not -like to admit--no more than he had liked to display the healthy vigor -of his appetite--that he was so sleepy it was doubtful whether he could -keep awake. In this embarrassing position, when he desired to acquit -himself creditably and feared the weakness of his flesh, he too had an -idea. He did not know if it would be acceptable and broached it with a -cautious preamble. - -They just wanted to know who the person was, didn’t they? He wouldn’t -have to catch them, which would be nearly impossible in the dark and -was unnecessary as no one could get off the island. To see them, be -able to identify them, get on to who was stealing round the house, -was the point. If that was enough he’d a way of doing it, the surest -and most efficacious way it could be done, no scrambling round the -furniture, no uncertainty--he’d set his small camera for a flashlight -photograph. The materials were all at hand, he’d gathered them together -for a flashlight picture of the company. All he had to do was to get -them ready and if any one entered by the door he was to watch, he’d -have their number before they knew it. - -Williams was interested--it was a neat trick and tickled his fancy. -As he was ignorant of the process, Shine explained it, getting his -properties from the cabinet as he spoke. The flashlight powder in a -saucer on the table, then a double wire extending from it to a point -above the door--the pair of antlers would answer. There the wire would -be cut, one-half hanging down from the antlers, the other twisted round -the door handle, its end standing out. When the door was opened the two -severed ends would come in contact and make the circuit which would -set off the powder. He did not tell Williams that the taking of the -picture could be achieved whether he was asleep or awake, but that the -camera would make its record whatever his state was an immense relief -to his mind. - -Williams left and he quickly completed his preparations. The antlers -served his purpose well, the depending cord was in exactly the right -position and before he made his final adjustment of the two wires -he unloosed the latch of the door that it might open easily and -noiselessly at the first push of a stealthy hand. Then, his camera in -place, he turned off the lights. The room was suddenly plunged into -Egyptian blackness; he had to feel for the chair he had pulled up and -grasping the tripod, nearly upset it. Swearing under his breath he -found the arms of the chair and let himself down upon it carefully, to -avoid creaking. The silence of the house closed round him, a silence -that was like oblivion. The darkness showed no break as his glance -traveled over it. A solid impenetrable wall, it was hard to look at, -the eye required something to rest upon. After he had stared into it -for what seemed a measureless stretch of time, he felt he must shut -his eyes for a moment of respite. He did so, his head drooped, nodded, -sunk, and he lay a big crumpled figure held in the embrace of the chair. - -A bang--in that silence as loud as a cannon shot--a rending burst of -light, waked him. He leaped to his feet his senses scattered, not -knowing where he was or what had happened. Then from every side of -the house noise broke, groans, screams, slamming of doors, thudding -footfalls. It was terrifying in the darkness, like a company of ghosts -wailing and running about in some black inferno. Williams’ voice -shouted the first intelligible words: - -“You got them--good work! Where the hell are the lights?” - -That shook Shine into consciousness, and he called to the gallery -whence a patter of bare feet and shrill female cries rose: - -“It’s all right. Don’t be scared. It’s only a flashlight.” - -Male voices followed, harsh and loud as the men came rushing in: - -Rawson’s from the left with the crash of the door flung back against -the wall. - -“What are you doing in here? What was that?” - -Bassett’s from the entrance, his body colliding with furniture as he -ran blindly forward. Somewhere in the darkness behind, Stokes’ high and -choked, breaking into curses. And over all Miss Pinkney’s riding the -tumult like the war cry of the Valkyries: - -“Why don’t some of you fools turn on the electricity? The button’s on -the right side of the door.” - -Bassett’s hand found it and the room was flooded with light. - -The women in straight white nightgowns stood on the gallery huddled -together. The dreadful darkness lifted, they leaned over the railing, -their faces pallid between hanging locks of hair, dropping a shower of -questions on the men below. One of them was hysterical and gave forth a -sobbing wail, and Williams shouted with angry authority: - -“Keep quiet up there. Nothing’s the matter. Didn’t you hear it was a -flashlight?” - -Some one strangled a scream--Williams thought it was Flora but could -not be sure. Then they made a simultaneous retreat to the bedrooms for -negligées and slippers, while the men, gathered round Shine, listened -to his explanation. No, he’d seen nothing and heard nothing, but he’d -got the picture all right, whoever it was, he had them. Now he’d go -and develop it--he could do that in a few minutes--and there was the -projector in the corner he could use, throw it on to something where -they’d all see. A sheet over that screen by the desk would do. And when -it’s on there, large as life, there won’t be any use lying, there’ll be -nothing for it but to come across. - -They urged him out, they’d attend to everything: hurry up with -the picture. Williams was unable to hide his elation. His idea, -augmented by Shine’s, was a bull’s-eye hit, and his voice showed an -exultant excitement as he called to Miss Pinkney to bring a sheet. -Rawson’s satisfaction was less apparent, but his eye was alight with -anticipation. If it was the boy, he had run back up-stairs, for no exit -had been attempted through the kitchen. With the whole house astir -he’d be afraid to come down and they had him safe as a rat in a trap. -Impatient at the wait for Shine’s reappearance he left the room, saying -he was going to the boat-house for a word with Patrick. - -Bassett saw him go and made no move--he could not leave Anne now. The -detonation and fire-work illumination that had made him leap for the -path had roused Patrick. As he ran, not knowing what had taken place -in the house, he had heard the man’s grunt of returning consciousness -and a hoarse expletive thrown into the night. Rawson would find him -awake and his dereliction never be known. But this mattered nothing to -Bassett. An inner anguish held him; his eyes and Anne’s had met as she -stood on the gallery and for the despair in hers he had no consolation. -He saw Miss Pinkney and Williams pulling out the screen and draping -it with a sheet, he saw Stokes walking stiffly to a chair, his hands -curved over its back, his face a curious shining white--he saw and -his mind registered nothing. If it was Joe, if it was Joe--what would -become of her, what could he do? - -The noise of the women’s footsteps on the stairs came in a descending -rush. They burst in, their voices going before them, a scattering of -gasped explosive utterances. - -Flora went to Stokes and caught at his arm. “What is it, what is it?” -she kept repeating, jerking at his arm, till he started away from her -pushing her off. - -Williams heard and answered with veiled gusto. Some one had been -walking about the house at night against orders. It had been important -to find out who was doing it and so Mr. Shine had set his camera -and caught them, him or her--Williams’ voice was heavy on the last -pronoun--in a flashlight picture. Mr. Shine was developing it now and -as soon as he was ready they’d see it thrown on the sheet. - -“It wasn’t me,” came Mrs. Cornell’s voice in loud relief. - -“Nor me, nor me.” Flora’s followed. - -“Can’t you damned women keep still,” Stokes ground out between his -teeth. - -Rawson reentered. He had heard them as he came up the path and stopped -on the threshold looking at Anne, waiting to see if she would speak. -But she said nothing, standing by Bassett, her hand braced against -a table, her glance on the floor. She knew Rawson was watching her -and willed her form to an upright immobility, her face to a stony -blankness. If she could hold herself this way, not move or speak, she -could bear the tension. A touch, a word, and she felt that her body -might break to pieces and her voice ascend in long-drawn screams to the -skies. - -The screen under its white covering was set in the place Shine had -indicated, the projector put some distance back, facing it. To some -of them these preparations had the hideous significance of those -preceding an execution and all of them felt the deadly oppression of -the approaching climax. The room was very still as if an enchantment -lay on it. At intervals Mrs. Cornell drew her breath with a low moaning -sound, Stokes’ hands clenched and unclenched on the chair-back and -Williams looked at his watch. He began a guttural mutter of impatience -and stopped as the door opened and Shine came in. - -He came quickly, bringing an air of excitement to the already highly -charged atmosphere. There was a bewildered agitation in his face, and -his words were broken and uncertain as he answered Williams’ questions: - -“Oh, yes, I got it--something--I can’t quite make out--got me sort of -flustered hurrying so. You’ll have to stand away there, folks.” He made -a waving gesture and they drew back, pushing against one another till -they stood massed in the rear of the room. He turned to the projector, -adjusting it, then held the negative out toward Williams. “We’ll -probably lose this, Mr. Williams. Doing it so quickly I couldn’t fix -it. It’ll likely melt with the heat in here, won’t last more than a few -minutes. You don’t want to keep it, do you?” - -“Go ahead. It’s only the picture--that’s all that concerns us.” - -“All right--it’s your say-so. You’ll get it in a minute now and by gum, -I want to see--” he stopped, his breath caught, his hands busy over the -machine. “Now then, we’re ready. Some one please put out the lights.” - -Miss Pinkney pressed the button and the room dropped into darkness. -Through it the projector cast a golden shaft that rested on the screen -in a bright circle. The reflection painted their faces with a spectral -glow. Every face, eyes staring, lips dropped agape or pressed together -in a taut line, watched the bright disk of gold. - -“Now,” came Shine’s voice whisperingly. - -A picture leaped into being on the screen. A door-frame backed by -solid indistinguishable black, the edge of a door, and beyond it, -the outlines melting into the darkness, the suggestion of a head and -shoulders only the face showing clear, looking at them with wide -questioning eyes--Sybil Saunders’ face. - -The silence held for a moment, then broke in an explosive volume of -sound. The women’s shrieks rose simultaneously--“Sybil! Sybil!” The -name ran about the room, beat on the high ceiling and was buffeted from -wall to wall. - -“The dead woman!” Williams shook Shine’s arm in his incredulous -amazement. - -“It is--it’s her. I saw it when I developed it and I don’t -know--something’s gone wrong.” - -A raucous cry rose above the chorus of female voices. Stokes had -dropped his hold on the chair, his starting eyes fixed on the picture. -From his lips, curled back like an angry dog’s, came a strangling rush -of words: - -“She’s dead. She’s dead for I killed her. I shot her--she’s dead. She -can’t come back, she never can come back. I shot her as she ran--I -killed her--I saw her fall--she’s dead--dead!” - -The words died in a groan. He pitched forward and lay a writhing -moaning shape with hands that clawed and dug into the carpet. The men -rushed at him, clustered about him, the women watching in dumb horror -while the picture behind them slowly faded from the screen. - - - - -XVII - - -WHEN they carried Stokes to his room they thought him dying, so ghastly -was his appearance, so deathlike his collapse. Bassett telephoned to -Hayworth for a doctor and before the man came, Flora, singularly cold -and collected now the fight was over, told them her husband was a -morphia addict and showed them the case in his bag with the empty vial. -In the two days’ detention on the island his supply had been exhausted, -the greatest strain of the many that had ended in his frantic -confession. - -When the doctor had made his examination and heard the facts he looked -grave--the man was in desperate case, a complete breakdown of the whole -organism and an overstrained heart. He thought there was little or no -hope, but there might be a return to consciousness. If there was he -promised to call the officers who were keen to get a fuller statement. -Meantime he wanted the room cleared of everybody but Mrs. Stokes, and -the men left, returning to the living-room to find Shine and get an -explanation of the picture. - -In the excitement of the Stokes sensation they had forgotten all about -the picture and now, walking down the hall, they swung back to it. -Bassett and Williams were baffled and confounded by it; it was one -of the most startling of the whole chain of startling circumstances. -Rawson was neither baffled nor confounded having already arrived at a -solution: Shine had played a trick, done it on purpose to see if it -might not accomplish just what it had accomplished. He was loud in -his praise of the photographer, it was a clever ruse that had brought -things to a climax when they might have gone on bungling for days. -Rawson was willing to admit his mistakes--he’d been sure of the boy and -now it appeared that Bassett and Miss Tracy were right. Joe Tracy had -evidently lit out secretly on some business of his own. - -He dismissed the company with a curt command and as they made their -hurried exits, jocularly congratulated Shine as the man who had pulled -off a successful hoax. But the photographer showed no responsive pride, -on the contrary he looked rather shamefaced and denied the charge. He’d -meant to take a picture, no funny business or fooling about it--but--he -rubbed his hand over his tousled hair and grinned sheepishly. He was -sleepy, that’s what had been the matter, just plain doped with sleep so -he didn’t know what he was doing. - -“Well, how do you account for the picture?” said Rawson. “Are you one -of these people who can take spirit photographs?” - -Shine wasn’t that--there was only one way of accounting for it. He -hadn’t opened the shutter and the picture was one of those he had taken -of Miss Saunders the day of his arrival. - -“Of course,” he said, staring perplexedly at the carpet. “I’d swear I -opened the shutter and I’d swear I closed it after I got my wits back. -But there you are--you can’t take a picture of a dead woman and I -had a lot of her on that film. That’s how it came about, being waked -up sudden by Mr. Williams and trying to pretend I was on the job, and -being naturally rattled by all that’s transpired here. Oh, you can -understand it!” - -“You’d taken her like that--coming through a doorway?” - -He’d taken two or three like that--he couldn’t be sure how many. But -he did remember posing her at both the front and rear entrances of -the living-room, trying to get effects of a dark background with her -figure dimly suggested and the light on her face. It was evidently one -of those pictures, must have been the last he’d done, but he couldn’t -trust his memory on any small points. He’d been more shocked than he -had any idea of but he knew it now. - -He described his amazement at having seen it in the negative. He said -he couldn’t believe his eyes and hadn’t mentioned it as he thought he -was “seeing things” what with the murder and all the excitement. And -he couldn’t study it or compare it with those on the rest of the film -because it was gone. After they’d taken Stokes away and he’d got the -women quieted down he’d turned to the sheet--and there it was, blank as -it is now and the negative melted. As for the explosion of the powder, -that was easy to explain, and he told of his precautions in unlatching -the door. Any light air could have swung it open and as he was sinking -to sleep, he had felt a breeze blowing in from the entrance. Rawson -verified this; a wind had arisen that had kept him on the _qui vive_ in -the kitchen, moving the curtains and making the doors creak. - -So that was that! Nobody’s brains, nobody’s deductive powers, or -perspicacity or psychological insight had brought them to the goal. The -bungling of a sleepy man had done the trick. - -They were talking it over when the sound of Flora’s voice stopped them. -She was standing in the doorway very white and very calm. Stokes was -asking for them. Yes, she nodded in answer to Rawson’s look, he was -quite himself. The doctor had wanted him to wait till he was stronger -but he had insisted: - -“He says he must speak now while his mind is clear. He seems to know it -won’t last and he can’t rest till he’s told everything.” - -They found him bolstered up in bed, a haggard spectacle, his eyes, sunk -in darkened hollows, seemed to hold all the life left in his body. They -hung on the entering men, then swerved to his wife and he made a motion -for her to sit beside him. When she had taken her place and he had -groped for her hand, his eyelids dropped and he lay for a moment as if -gathering strength. - -“I’m glad you’ve come,” he whispered. “Glad it’s over. If I’m going on -now it can’t be to anything worse than this last thirty-six hours.” - -The desire to free his mind possessed him. Rest, he said, rest was all -he wanted and it was not for him till he had unloaded the intolerable -burden he had carried since Sybil Saunders’ death. In his own words the -recital was broken by digressions, memories of his torturing passion, -assurances of good intentions that failed of execution, remorse for the -wrong he had done his wife. Robbed of the theatrical quality that was -of the man’s essence, it was the stark revelation of a soul’s tragedy. - -He had never intended to kill her--that was the one point of -exculpation he insisted on. His love had made him mad, carried him -beyond the inhibiting forces of honor, feeling, reason. That it was -hopeless seemed to increase its obsessing power, and she had never for -one moment led him to think it was anything but hopeless. Unwaveringly, -from the first, her attitude had been dislike, aversion, a horror of -his state of mind and himself. - -His knowledge of the coming separation had been the igniting motive -that caused the inner explosion. After their stay on the island she -would go her way, keep her whereabouts hidden from him, and he might -never see her again. The thought became unbearable, and led him to -a resolution of wild desperation--he would get her alone, once -more confess his passion, and if she met it with the old scorn and -abhorrence, kill himself before her eyes. He had seen the revolver in -the drawer of the desk and on the day of the performance, taken it. To -prevail upon her to grant him the interview was the problem, and the -evil inspiration came to him to tell her he had news of Dallas, her -lover. It was a lie, he knew nothing of the man, but truth, decency, -self-respect no longer existed for him. - -He described the interview in the living-room, her roused interest and -demand for the information. The intrusion of his wife worked with his -plan and he had insisted on a rendezvous where they would be free from -interruption. They started for the summer-house on the Point, saw Shine -there, and made the arrangement to meet in the place at seven. Then she -had gone up-stairs to her room and he to the balcony to wait for her. - -When he saw her pass the balcony he had risen and followed her. She -had moved rapidly, not waiting for him, and he had not tried to catch -up with her as he knew she did not want any one to see them together. -When he entered the summer-house she was sitting on the bench close to -the table on which her elbows rested. His hysterical state, accelerated -during the long wait, had reached a climax of distraction and he burst -into a stream of words--he had lied to her, he knew nothing, but he -had to see her, he had lured her there for a last interview, a final -clearing up, and he drew out the pistol. The sight of it, his mad -babble of disconnected sentences, evidently terrified her. She leaped -to her feet and made a rush like a frightened animal for the opening. -Before he could speak or catch her she had brushed past him and fled -from the place. - -Then something had gone wrong in his head--he couldn’t explain--a -breaking of some pressure, a stoppage of all mental processes. In the -vacuum one fact stayed--that she had got away from him and he never -would see her again. A blind fury seized him and he shot at her as -she ran. She was at the summit of the cliff, staggered, threw up her -arms and went over. When he saw her body lurch and topple forward the -darkness lifted from his brain. He came back to himself as if from a -period of unconsciousness and realized what he had done. - -He described his state as curiously lucid and far-seeing. The insane -outbreak seemed to have freed his intelligence and temporarily -suspended the torment of his nerves. The situation presented itself -with a vision-like clarity and all the forces of his mind and will -sprang into action, combining to achieve his safety. From the shadow of -the vines he looked at the house, saw Bassett come to the living-room -entrance, glance about and go back. The sound of the shot had evidently -roused no forebodings and when no face appeared at window or door, he -ran to the pine grove. There he was safe and slipped unobserved to the -balcony. He waited here for a moment to get his breath and compose his -manner. He was the actor, playing a difficult part with a high-keyed, -heady confidence when he entered the room. - -His wife--that had been the unforeseen retribution. He had not realized -that suspicion would turn on her, and then saw that it might, saw that -it did. His hell began when he grasped the danger she was in, listened -to Rawson’s questions on the night of their arrival, sensed Williams’ -line of thought when the scene was rehearsed on the shore. He had tried -to turn them to Joe Tracy, snatching at anything to gain time, but he -would have told, he was ready to tell. He kept reiterating the words, -his burning eyes moving from one face to the other--he had broken her -heart, ruined her life, but he was not so utterly lost as that. - -It was her assurances that quieted him. She had known from the first he -would tell as she had known from the first he had done it. He relaxed -and sank back, his eyes closing, and the doctor motioned them to go. -Flora followed them to the door and held them there a moment to repeat -what she had said--as if, like him, wanting to rid her mind of all its -secret agony. It wasn’t surmise; she had seen him. When she had turned -from the water after her attempt to catch the body she had had a clear -view of him stealing through the pine wood, moving noiselessly and -watching the house. - -“He never knew it,” she said. “That night when you, Mr. Williams, -nearly caught me on the stairs, I was going to see him, say I knew what -he’d done and that I’d help him and lie for him and stand by him. Oh, -yes--I don’t care what I tell now. He was my husband, I’d loved him and -he’d been cursed--cursed and destroyed.” - -The men closed the door softly as upon the dead. What they had heard -and left behind them had taken the zest from their accomplishment and -in the glow of the hall lights their faces looked drawn and hollowed -with fatigue. Rawson drew out his watch--half past two. The best thing -they could do was to get a little sleep. The day would be on them in a -few hours, there would be a lot of business to get through and he, for -one, was dead beat. They wouldn’t take off their clothes, just turn in -on the sofa and divan, and stepping gently, as befitted a place where -so dark a doom had fallen, he and Williams passed into the library. - -Sleep was far from Bassett. He would like to have seen Anne, but -it would have been inhuman to rouse her, and he went toward the -living-room where he could think in quiet. The screen still covered -by the sheet and the projector facing it were untouched and gave the -place the air of a scene set for a play. Silence brooded over the room, -a silence so peaceful and profound that it seemed as if the hideous -tumult of the last hour must be a nightmare illusion. He dropped into -a chair, his breath expelled with a groaning note, then heard Anne’s -voice from the gallery above: - -“I’ve been waiting for you. May I come down?” - -There she was, dressed, leaning against the railing. - -“Come,” he beckoned, his heart expanding, his depression lightened, -and as she disappeared he pulled up a chair for her. She came in, -soft-footed across the rugs, with the whispering words: - -“I couldn’t rest till I’d seen you and heard. He’s told?” - -“Everything.” They sat, facing each other, close together. “It’s solved -and ended--the Gull Island murder.” - -“Is it all right for you to tell me?” - -It was all right and he told her. - -She listened absorbed, eyes intent on his, now and then nodding her -head in confirmation of an agreement in her own mind. When he had -finished, she sat looking down, apparently lost in musing contemplation -of the story. - -“So, as it turns out, Anne dearest, all that misery you and I went -through was unnecessary.” - -“Yes,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t Joe, he wasn’t in it at all. But -I don’t understand. I’ve been sitting in my room while you were with -Stokes thinking about it and I can’t make it out. Hugh”--she leaned -forward and rested her hand on his knee, dropping her voice though no -one was there to hear--“this is what I can’t explain--_whom_ did I see -in here last night?” - -Bassett’s answer was prompt, delivered in the brisk tone of common -sense: - -“I can. It’s very simple. You didn’t see anybody.” - -“Nobody?” - -“Nobody. I’ve been thinking about it, too. There’s only one -explanation, and that’s it.” - -She looked beyond him at the lamp, her eyebrows drawn in a puzzled -frown: - -“You think I imagined it?” - -“I know you did. Just consider:--You were in a wrought-up condition, -you expected to see him, came down for that purpose. The room was -almost dark, quite dark under the gallery where you say he came from. -After what you’d gone through--first a murder, then a suspicion that -would have undermined the strongest nerves--you were in a state to see -anything.” - -She continued to stare at the light, her face set in troubled thought. - -“I suppose that could be.” - -“Why, Anne dear, it must have been, it could have happened to any one. -And there’s another point--if it had been Joe, wouldn’t he have spoken -to you, one question even to find out what was going on, what we were -doing?” - -“Yes, yes. I’ve thought of that. It didn’t occur to me at the time. But -he would have said something.” - -“Of course he would. You never saw anything more substantial than a -shadow in the moonlight.” - -“That must be it,” she murmured. - -“I ought to have realized it but I was stampeded myself. We were all -ready to go off like a pack of fire-crackers. God”--he took her hand -and held its soft coldness against his forehead--“its a wonder we -didn’t all break to pieces like Stokes.” - -She was silent for a moment then said: - -“Well, where _is_ Joe? What’s he doing?” - -“Gone off on some business of his own. You were telling the truth -when you told Rawson and Williams that Joe’s actions weren’t always -calculable, weren’t you?” He saw her answering nod. “Well, he’s -evidently chosen the occasion of his leaving the island to light out in -some new direction. You can’t tell what may have been in his head--a -joke on Jimmy Travers, on us, any sort of lark or tom-foolery. We’ll -find it all out soon.” - -He had his own opinion of Joe’s behavior which he was not going to tell -her now. The boy, found out in his spying, knowing himself condemned by -his associates and black-listed in his profession, might have departed -for good, taken the opportunity to disappear from a part of the country -where closed doors and averted faces would be his portion. It would be -like him and Bassett fervently hoped that it might be the case. - -“Come,” he said, rising and drawing her to her feet. “There’s no good -bothering about that any more. Leave it to me and when we’ve got -through the rest of this horrible business I’ll look around for him. -And anyway, he’ll see it in the papers, and if he wants to show up, -he’ll do it himself within the next few days. Now you must go to bed -and let your poor tired brain rest.” - -They walked to the door and there he caught her against his breast and -looked into her face: - -“It’s all over--that fighting and struggling alone, Anne. After this -we’ll be together, as soon as we can get away from here and find a -clergyman to marry us.” - -They kissed and parted, Bassett going to his room--he could sleep -now--and Anne faring slowly up the stairs to hers. - - - - -XVIII - - -ANY one watching Gull Island from the shore would have seen the yellow -shape of one bright window set like a small golden square in the -darkness. The bright window was Anne’s and over against it Anne sat on -the side of the bed looking at the floor. She sat perfectly still, held -in a staring concentration of thought, reviewing the happenings of the -night. The inability to understand that she had expressed to Bassett -had come back to her, there were things that she could not explain -away. Like a child piecing together the disconnected bits of a puzzle, -she contemplated separate facts, studied them, dropped each one in turn -and went on to another. - -While Bassett had talked to her she had accepted his theory. His belief -in it had been so absolute and it was so plausible. Of course a person -in her state might have imagined anything. And as she dwelt on the -sentence to persuade herself, the vision of the dim shadowy room rose -before her with the figure coming toward her from the darkness of the -gallery, moving spiritlike as an hallucination might move. But as the -memory grew in vividness the shape took form and solidity, the slim -boy’s shape. She saw again its rapid advance, its sudden stoppage at -her words, its lightning-quick turn and soundless flight. The snap of -the closing door came to her mind as a last confirmation and she knew -it was no delusion. - -“I did,” she said in a whisper, and raised her eyes as if confronting a -doubter with the truth. “I _know_ it--I _did_ see somebody.” - -Somebody! - -The word struck her ear with a startling effect, an effect of -discovery, of impending disclosures. Her body shrank together as if -in fear of them, her riveted glance grew fixed as a sleep-walker’s. -She lost all sense of her surroundings, her entire being contracted to -a point of inner activity. Before that intensified mental vision a -series of pictures passed like the slides in a magic lantern:--Shine’s -photograph, the worn, wide-eyed face of Sybil; Joe playing Sebastian, -his costume, his movements, a replica of Viola’s; the living-room as -they heard the shot, dusk falling outside; in the summer-house--with -its shrouding vines--it would have been almost dark. - -The pictures were disconnected like spots of light breaking through -darkness. If the darkness could be dispelled and the spots of light -joined, fused into continuity, she would reach something, something she -was groping toward, fearfully groping toward. Suddenly a recollection -flashed up, clairvoyantly distinct--Joe at the flat trying to make -Bassett give him the part of Sebastian, imitating Sybil’s walk. That -picture brought her to her feet, brought a smothered cry to her lips. -The spots of light had joined, run together in a leaping illumination. - -On the bureau lay the key of Joe’s trunk that she had brought from his -room after their last interview. She snatched it up and ran to the -door, out of it, along the gallery. In Joe’s room she turned on the -light and unlocked his trunk. She went through it to the bottom looking -for his Sebastian costume. It was gone, every appointment of it. She -had not needed the proof, she knew that she would not find it, that it -was Joe, dressed in that costume, Stokes had killed. - -The rest of it--Sybil alive, hiding somewhere! She saw the gray dawn -on the window--the night was over, the house would soon be stirring. -She locked the trunk, turned off the light and stole out on the -gallery. She did not go back to her room but kept on down the hall to -the top-floor staircase. Half-way up she heard from the floor above a -sound, so faint, so furtive, that it would only have been audible in -the dead dawn hush. She made a rush upward sending her voice, low-keyed -but passionately urgent, ahead of her: - -“Sybil, Sybil, if it’s you, wait. It’s Anne. I’m coming to help you.” - -The door of the bedroom opposite the stair-head was open. Against -the pale light of the window, poised with one hand resting on the -raised sash, was a boy’s figure--surely the figure she had seen in the -living-room two nights before. It was so completely boyish, the cropped -round head, the knickerbockers and belted jacket, that she could not -yet be sure and went forward with slackened gait, peering and murmuring -fearfully: - -“Sybil, it _is_ you?” - -The figure left the window, came nearer, silently, creepingly, with a -hand raised for caution. She saw the face then, pinched and haggard, -strangely altered with the curling frame of hair clipped close, but -still Sybil’s. - -It was so extraordinary--such a gulf of unknown happenings lay between -them--that at first they said nothing. In the spectral light they were -like two ghosts come together in some debatable land beyond earth’s -confines--too astonished at their encounter to find speech, too -removed from the recognized and familiar to drop back to its facile -communications. They stared, eye to eye, breath coming brokenly -through parted lips, drawing together as if each were a magnet -compelling the other. Anne spoke first. - -“Joe,” she said. “It’s Joe that’s dead.” - -“Yes. Do they know?” - -“They know nothing. They think it was you. It’s all over, Stokes has -told. But, oh, what is it? I can’t understand--it’s like a fearful -dream.” - -The words died away and a sudden violent trembling shook her. With -the joints of her knees like water she sank on the side of the bed, -gripping the other with her shaking hands, pulling her down beside her. - -“Tell me, tell me,” she implored. “Why is he dead? Why did he pretend -he was you? What was he doing?” - -They sat, clinging together, two small huddled figures in the gray -light. Though the house below was as silent as the tomb they spoke in -subdued voices, question, answer, surmise. Each knew a different aspect -of the story, brought her own knowledge of Joe’s motives and actions. -In that whispered exchange they pieced together the separate facts, -combined them in coherent sequence and came to a final enlightenment. - -Joe had met his death in his last effort as a police spy, his last -effort to get the Parkinson reward. Leaving his room to come down -and make ready for his departure, he had heard the voices of Stokes -and Sybil in the living-room. Sybil remembered Stokes’ upward look -and question about some one moving in the gallery--Joe creeping to -concealment behind the arch. The nature of their conversation would -have held him listening: here was his last opportunity to get the -information he sought. He had heard the rendezvous in the summer-house. -Its open situation offered no hiding-place outside, but knowing that it -would be almost dark inside, he had conceived the idea of putting on -his Sebastian costume and impersonating Sybil. He probably thought he -risked no more than Stokes’ rage, and he also probably thought that he -might escape before Stokes had discovered his identity. - -His room was next to Sybil’s. He had heard her come up-stairs and from -his window could command the Point. When Shine left it he had gone -down, passed the balcony where Stokes was waiting, and hearing his -following footsteps, moved with that close imitation of Sybil’s gait -to the summer-house. There the dim light and the drooping curls of his -wig enabled him to carry through the deception. Stokes’ wild speech, -followed by the drawing of the pistol, had terrified him. Confronted by -a man armed and half-mad, panic had seized him and he had made a rush -from the place. - -So Joe had died, a body clad in gala dress swirling out on currents -that would never bring him back. Anne said nothing. She did not feel -any special grief, or feeling of any kind. Too much had happened, she -was benumbed. She had a vague sense that in some future time, when she -had recovered from her dulled and battered state, she might be sorry, -cry perhaps. Her eyes fell on her hand with Sybil’s clasped around -it and the sight of the linked fingers roused her. They were like a -symbol of the intertwined closeness of their lives, so much closer -than hers and Joe’s had ever been. That brought her back to Sybil and -Sybil’s inexplicable actions. She lifted her head and looked at the -face beside her: - -“But--but--why did you do all this? Hide, not say anything, let them -think you were dead?” - -“I wanted to get away.” - -“Get away! What for--where?” - -“To Jim Dallas. I know where he is.” - -“You’ve known?” - -“For a month. I’ve written him telling him I’d come if I could, if -I _ever_ could. Oh, but it’s been hopeless. I was spied on, dogged, -followed--” Her voice rose on a hoarse note, stopped, and after a -scared listening hush, went on whisperingly: “I want to stay dead, -never come to life here again. It’s my chance--the only chance I’ll -ever have. You’ve found me now and I’ll tell you everything.” And she -told Anne the story--the story that no one else has ever heard. - -Since she had received his address the longing to join her lover had -possessed her. She had written she would come, she knew he was waiting -for her, but the watch kept upon her made any move impossible. Whatever -her anguish, she could not risk betraying his whereabouts; if it had -been only herself she would have dared anything. In this position, -growing daily more unbearable, had suddenly come the means of escape. -Tragedy, swift and terrible as a bolt from the blue, had been her -opportunity, and she had desperately seized it. - -From her window, after the interview with Stokes, she had seen Joe, -in his Sebastian dress, pass below. She had known it was he because -of the costume and was astonished, supposing him already gone. Stokes -came into view following him and the disturbing idea seized her that -he had mistaken the boy for herself. She had run to the door to go -down and end the misapprehension, and then stopped--at close quarters -Stokes would see who it was, and to let Joe--evil-tongued and -hostile--discover their rendezvous, was the last thing she wanted. She -went back to the window to watch the outcome and saw neither of them. -This frightened her--the only place they could have disappeared to was -the summer-house. Stokes might say too much before he discovered his -mistake, and panic-stricken, she was about to rush out, when Joe ran -from the doorway and the shot followed. - -For a space--she had no idea how long--she was paralyzed, not believing -her senses. She remembered moving back into the room and from there she -saw Stokes issue from the summer-house and flee to the shelter of the -pine wood, _that_ told her what she had seen was real, a murder had -been committed under her eyes, and she went to the door to go down. -Holding it open she paused on the threshold, heard the voices below, -heard Stokes’ entering words and had made a forward step to run down -and denounce him, when a sound from outside stopped her. Flora’s cry -that Sybil was killed. - -It was that wild screaming voice that gave her the idea, sent it -through her brain like a zigzag of lightning. While the people below -made their clamorous rush from the house, she stood in the doorway, -motionless in contemplation of the possibilities that opened before -her. The excitement that had shaken her a few minutes earlier died, her -mind steadied and cleared, she felt herself uplifted by an invincible -daring and courage. There was no danger of a recovery of the body for -she had heard from Gabriel and Miss Pinkney that bodies carried out on -the tide were never found. - -Alone on the second floor with little fear of interruption she had gone -about her preparations at once. She had taken nothing from her own room -but money from her purse (leaving a small amount to avert suspicion) -the candies from the box on the table, a few crackers she had brought -up the night before from supper, and a pair of scissors. Then going to -Joe’s room she had gathered the clothes he had discarded, lying ready -to her hand on the bed--everything from the shoes to the cap--and -stolen out and upward to the top floor. Here she had put on the clothes -and cut off her hair--she showed Anne the ends of the yellow curls in -her jacket pocket--hiding her own clothes in a box in the store-room. - -As to when the police would be summoned and of what their procedure -would consist, she knew nothing. Her hope was to escape by the causeway -that night. From this Anne had saved her. In her terror of recognition -she had kept silent knowing her voice would betray her. - -The next day she had been a prey to a rising tide of alarm. From behind -a curtain she had watched the search of the island and realized a hunt -through the top floor must follow. Every sign of her presence was -obliterated and she studied her surroundings for a hiding-place. The -windows, opened half-way to air the rooms, suggested the possibility -of a cache outside. Climbing up the wall and extending to the roof was -the great wisteria vine, its outspread branches twisted into ropes and -covered with a mantle of dense foliage. The main trunk passed close -to the window of the room that faced the stair-head, the place where -she sat waiting for ascending footsteps. When Anne had made her visit, -she had heard the first creak of the stairs and crawled out under the -raised window. With a foothold on the gutter she had slipped behind the -curtain of the vine, her hands gripped round its limbs. Even from the -garden below she thought it would have been impossible to detect her. -Of Anne’s whispered pleadings she had heard nothing; she had supposed -the intruder one of the men. When they came up she had had plenty of -time to hide for she had heard their footsteps when they came along the -hall. - -“Sleep!” she said, in answer to Anne’s question. “I never thought of -sleep. I was in this room all the time, waiting and listening. I didn’t -even dare to lie on the bed for fear I couldn’t get it smooth again. -The candies and crackers kept me from being hungry. But when your whole -being is on such a strain you don’t think of those things, you forget -your body.” - -After the visit of Rawson and Williams she knew the danger of detection -increased with every hour. Also the necessity for food could not be -denied much longer. The one chance left her was to get away that night, -make what she felt would be a last attempt to gain the freedom that -meant life to her. The darkness was in her favor and she resolved -to slip from the house and cross the bed of the channel below the -causeway. She was a good swimmer and though the central stream was -deep and swift she was ready to match her strength against it. If she -failed--but she hadn’t thought of failure--the goal to be reached was -all she saw. - -At the foot of the stairs she had hesitated, undecided whether to go -by the living-room or the kitchen. Finally she chose the way she knew -best, where she was familiar with the disposition of the furniture. As -the flashlight burst she had made a noiseless rush for the stairs, was -in the upper passage when the women’s doors flew open and Rawson came -running along the hall below. The darkness and noise had covered her -flight, but in her eyrie on the top floor she had crouched at the head -of the stairs sick with uncertainty and dread. The concerted shrieks of -the women had come eerily to her--cries of her own name. She guessed -then a picture had been taken, they had seen it, and she waited not -knowing what was coming. She had stayed there a long time, listening -with every sense alert, heard silence gathering over the house and then -gone back to her place by the window: - -“I hadn’t given up, I had the spirit to fight still. But it was so -awful not knowing anything, what they were doing, if they’d found out -I was alive. And what was I to do--stay here, get out on the island? I -couldn’t tell, I was all in the dark, and I felt my nerve weaken for -the first time. And then I heard your voice, Anne, ‘I’m coming to help -you,’ it said.” She drew back and looked with solemn meaning into the -other’s face. “You meant it? You will help me?” - -“Sybil, you know it.” - -“There’s only one way you can.” - -“Any way.” - -“Let me go.” - -“Never tell--that you were here--that it wasn’t you?” - -“Yes, let me stay dead. Everybody believes it, let them go on -believing. It _was_ death, my life since that night when Jim -disappeared. It wasn’t worth going on with. Now I can go to him, be -with him, there’ll be no one watching Sybil Saunders any more. Even -if I looked like myself it would be only the chance resemblance to a -murdered woman. And do I look like myself?” - -She turned her face to the light, bright now with the coming of the -sun. Below the smooth sweep of hair across her forehead it was so -changed in its pallor and thinness, so bereft of its rounded curves and -delicate freshness that it was only a dim reflection of Sybil’s--the -face of a way-worn lad in whom the same blood ran. - -The havoc worked by the suffering that had so transfigured it drove -like a knife to Anne’s heart. She felt the prick of tears under her -eyelids and lowered her head--Sybil gripping at her happiness with the -fierce courage of despair, and now Sybil going, breaking all ties, -going forever. For a moment she could not speak and the other, thinking -her silence meant reluctance to agree, caught at her hands, pleading, -with breathless urgence: - -“They’ve accepted everything--it’s all explained and ended. Joe has -gone, dropped out of sight. Boys of his kind do that, do something -they’re ashamed of and disappear. What good would it do Stokes or -Bassett or the police to know it was Joe who was killed? It’s not lies, -it’s not being false to any one, it’s only to keep silent and let me -go. Oh, Anne, we’ve been real friends, we’ve loved each other-- Love me -enough to let me be happy.” - -The rim of the sun slipped above the distant sea line and sent a ray of -brilliant light through the window. It touched their seated figures and -lay rosy on Anne’s face as she raised it. - -“Go,” she said softly. “Go. I’ll never tell--I’ll keep that promise as -long as I live.” - -She could stay no longer, the house would be waking soon. There was a -rapid interchange of last injunctions, information for Sybil’s safety. -To-night at low tide she would cross on the causeway. Every evidence -of her occupation would be removed and with this in mind she took -her Viola dress from its hiding-place and gave it to Anne. No one, -ransacking the top floor at Gull Island would ever find a trace of her. - -At the head of the stairs they clung together for a moment--a life-long -good-by. There was no time for last words and they had no need of any. -It was too solemn a farewell for speech. They were like shipwrecked -comrades parted by tempest, Anne to find a haven, Sybil to ride forth -on unknown seas, rapt and dauntless, following her star. - -That night was cloudy--great black banks passing across the heavens. -At times they broke and through serene open spaces the moon rode, -silvering the sea, turning the pools and streamlets of the channel -bed to a shining tracery. A boy’s figure that had started across the -causeway in the dark, was caught in one of these transitory gleams, -a flitting shadow on the straight bright path. It stood out in sharp -silhouette, running on the slippery stones, then clouds swept across -the moon and in the darkness it gained the shore and the sheltering -trees. Padding light-footed on the wayside grass, it skirted the edge -of the village. - -Dogs scented its passage and broke out barking; the sound following its -progress till the houses were passed and the road stretched on between -quiet fields to the railway. - -Some people heard the dogs--light-sleeping villagers who turned and -wondered if a tramp was about and lapsed into comfortable slumber. In -the stillness of the room where Stokes lay unconscious, drawing toward -the hour of deliverance, the barking sounded loud and insistent. The -nurse was disturbed by it and went to the window and looked out, but -Flora never heard it. Anne did and sat up in bed following it along the -edge of the village till it died on the outskirts. - - - - -_EPILOGUE_ - - -THREE years later Bassett and Anne had a friend at dinner. He was -a writer who had just returned from a successful lecture tour in -Australia. On his way back he had ranged through the pleasant reaches -of the South Seas and had fallen under their spell--a little more -money in his pocket and for him it would be a plantation on some isle -of enchantment. Not the accessible places, they were already spoiled, -steamers had come, jazz music, and tourists in pith helmets with red -guidebooks were under your feet. It was the remoter islands, still out -of the line of travel, where a trading schooner was the sole link with -the world. - -He had made a point of visiting some of these--hired an old tub with -a native crew and gone batting about and had a glimpse of the real -thing that Stevenson saw. And he enlarged on a particular island, the -endmost of a scattered group, where he had found an American and his -wife running a copra plantation. Delightful people called Whittier, -he’d stayed several days with them in a long bamboo house on the edge -of a lagoon--you couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful. - -Anne smiled at his enthusiasm and said she thought such a life might -pall, especially on the lady. But he was convinced of the contrary, -in fact Mrs. Whittier had told him she never wanted to come back, she -couldn’t stand the futile strain and bustle of the world. And it was -not as if she were a person unused to the refinements of life, she was -a pretty intelligent woman, cultivated and fond of the arts, especially -the theater. She had asked him any amount of questions about plays and -players--said it had been the thing she loved most in the old days. But -she didn’t regret it; she had told him she regretted nothing but the -separation from her friends. - -After dinner, moving about in the sitting-room, the guest had stopped -before a photograph standing on a side-table, picked it up and asked -whose it was. Bassett had answered--a friend of his wife, now dead. But -he would remember--it was Sybil Saunders who had met with such a tragic -death some years ago. The guest nodded; of course he remembered, a -horrible affair. Then after a last look at the photograph he turned to -Anne: - -“It’s like that Mrs. Whittier I was telling you about. Just the same -eyes--quite remarkably like, only she’s a bit stouter and more mature. -It might have been her picture when she was a girl.” - -When the evening was over Bassett escorted the guest to the door. On -his way back to the sitting-room he thought he would suggest to Anne -that she put away the photograph--people noticed it and the subject -kept coming up. It was evidently unbearably painful to her for she -rarely spoke of it; that dark chapter in her life was a thing closed -and sealed. He had the words on his lips as he entered the room and -then saw that she held the picture in her hands and was looking -intently at it, softly smiling, her expression tranquil, even happy. -That was good--the wound had healed--so he said nothing. - - -THE END - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - -On page 12, fianceé has been changed to fiancée. - -On page 47, head-lands has been changed to headlands. - -On page 73, fishing rod has been changed to fishing-rod. - -On page 79, dispell has been changed to dispel. - -On page 157, contanied has been changed to contained. - -On page 179, ejactulated has been changed to ejaculated. - -On pages 247, 250, 251, 254 and 291, flash-light has been changed to -flashlight. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEADING LADY *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/69322-0.zip b/old/69322-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 921205c..0000000 --- a/old/69322-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69322-h.zip b/old/69322-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5769c80..0000000 --- a/old/69322-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69322-h/69322-h.htm b/old/69322-h/69322-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index cc1e00c..0000000 --- a/old/69322-h/69322-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8224 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Leading Lady, by Geraldine Bonner—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body {margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%;} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both;} - -p {margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; - text-indent: 1.5em;} - -.no-indent {text-indent: 0;} - -.ph1 {text-align: center; - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - font-size: xx-large; - font-weight: bold; - text-indent: 0;} - -.ph2 {text-align: center; - margin-top: .51em; - margin-bottom: .49em; - font-size: x-large; - font-weight: bold; - text-indent: 0;} - -.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} -.p4b {margin-bottom: 4em;} - -hr {width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both;} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.blockquot {margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right; - margin-right: 3em;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ - -img {max-width: 100%; - height: auto;} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; - margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; - page-break-before: always;} - -.x-ebookmaker-drop .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - -.x-ebookmaker .figcenter {width:100%} - -.x-ebookmaker .transnote {margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 2%;} - -.x-ebookmaker .pagenum {display: none; visibility: hidden;} - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The leading lady, by Geraldine Bonner</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The leading lady</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Geraldine Bonner</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: November 9, 2022 [eBook #69322]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEADING LADY ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide" style="width: 35%"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">THE LEADING LADY</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1><i>The</i><br /> -LEADING LADY</h1></div> - -<p class="center no-indent"><i>By</i></p> - -<p class="ph2">GERALDINE BONNER</p> - -<p class="center no-indent p4b">AUTHOR OF<br /> -<i>To-morrow’s Tangle, The Pioneer,<br /> -Rich Men’s Children, The<br /> -Book of Evelyn</i></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> -<img src="images/i_title.jpg" width="100" alt="Publishers Logo" -title="" /></div> - -<p class="center no-indent p4">INDIANAPOLIS<br /> -THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY<br /> -PUBLISHERS</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1926<br /> -By The Bobbs-Merrill Company</span><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -PRINTED AND BOUND<br /> -BY BRAUNWORTH & CO., INC.<br /> -BROOKLYN, NEW YORK</p></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1 nobreak"><i>The</i><br /> -LEADING LADY</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p> -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak"><i>PROLOGUE</i></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">One</span> of the morning trains that tap the little -towns along the Sound ran into the Grand Central -Depot. It was very hot in the lower levels of -the station and the passengers, few in number—for -it was midsummer and people were going out -of town, not coming in—filed stragglingly up the -long platform to the exit. One of them was a -girl, fair and young, with those distinctive attributes -of good looks and style that drew men’s -eyes to her face and women’s to her clothes.</p> - -<p>People watched her as she followed the porter -carrying her suit-case, noting the lithe grace of -her movements, her delicate slimness, the froth of -blonde hair that curled out under the brim of her -hat. She appeared oblivious to the interest she -aroused and this indifference had once been natural,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span> -for to be looked at and admired had been her -normal right and become a stale experience. Now -it was assumed, an armor under which she sought -protection, hid herself from morbid curiosity and -eagerly observing eyes. To be pointed out as -Sybil Saunders, the actress, was a very different -thing from being pointed out as Sybil Saunders, -the fiancée of James Dallas of the Dallas-Parkinson -case.</p> - -<p>The Dallas-Parkinson case had been a sensation -three months back. James Dallas, a well-known -actor, had killed Homer Parkinson during a quarrel -in a man’s club, struck him on the head with a -brass candlestick, and fled before the horrified -onlookers could collect their senses. Dallas, a -man of excellent character, had had many friends -who claimed mitigating circumstances—Parkinson, -drunk and brutal, had provoked the assault. -But the Parkinson clan, new-rich oil people, -breathing vengeance, had risen to the cause of -their kinsman, poured out money in an effort to -bring the fugitive to justice, and offered a reward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span> -of ten thousand dollars for his arrest. Of -course Sybil Saunders had figured in the investigation, -she was the betrothed of the murderer, -their marriage had been at hand. She had gone -through hours of questioning, relentless grilling, -and had steadily maintained her ignorance of -Dallas’ whereabouts; from the night of his disappearance -she had heard nothing from him and -knew nothing of him. The Parkinsons did not believe -her statement, the police were uncertain.</p> - -<p>As she walked toward the exit she carried a -newspaper in her hand. Other people in the train -had left theirs in their seats, but she, after a -glance at the head-lines, had folded hers and laid -it in her lap. Three seats behind her on the opposite -side of the aisle she had noticed a man—had -met his eyes as her own swept back carelessly -over the car—and it was then that she had laid -the paper down and looked out of the window. -Under the light film of rouge on her cheeks a natural -color had arisen. She had known he would -be there but was startled to find him so close.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span></p> - -<p>Now as she moved across the shining spaciousness -of the lower-level waiting-room she stole a -quick glance backward. He was following, mounting -the incline. It was the man who had gone up -with her on Friday. She had been out of town -several times lately on week-end visits and one of -them was always on the train. Sometimes it was -a new one but she had become familiar with the -type.</p> - -<p>She knew he was behind her at the taxi stand as -she gave the address in a loud voice. But he probably -would disappear now; in the city they generally -let her alone. It was only when she left -town that they were always on hand, keeping -their eye on her, ready to follow if she should try -to slip away.</p> - -<p>The taxi rolled out into the sweltering heat; -incandescent streets roaring under the blinding -glare of the sun. Her destination was the office -of Stroud & Walberg, theatrical managers, and -here in his opulent office set in aerial heights -above the sweating city, Mr. Walberg offered -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>her a friendly hand and a chair. Mr. Walberg, a -kindly Hebrew, was kindlier than ever to this particular -visitor. He was sorry for her—as who in -his profession was not—and wanted to help her -along and here was his proposition:</p> - -<p>A committee of ladies, a high-society bunch -summering up in Maine, wanted to give a play for -charity. They’d got the chance to do something -out of the ordinary, for Thomas N. Driscoll, the -spool-cotton magnate who was in California, had -offered them his place up there—Gull Island was -the name—for an outdoor performance. Mr. -Walberg, who had never seen it, enlarged on its -attractions as if he had been trying to make a -sale—a whole island, just off the mainland, magnificent -mansion to be turned over to the company, -housekeeper installed. The crowning touch -was an open-air amphitheater, old Roman effect, -tiers of stone seats, said to be one of the most -artistic things of its kind in the country. The -ladies had wanted a classic which Mr. Walberg -opined was all right seeing the show was for charity,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span> -and people could stand being bored for a -worthy object. <i>Twelfth Night</i> was the play they -had selected, and as that kind of stage called for -no scenery one thing would go as well as another.</p> - -<p>The ladies had placed the matter in Mr. Walberg’s -hands, and he had at once thought of Sybil -Saunders for Viola. She had played the part -through the provinces, made a hit and was in his -opinion the ideal person. There was a persuasive, -almost coaxing quality in his manner, not his -usual manner with rising young actresses. But, -as has been said, he was a kindly man, and had -heard that Sybil Saunders was knocked out, -couldn’t get the heart to work; also, as she was a -young person of irreproachable character, he inferred -she must be hard up. That brought him -to compensation—not so munificent, but then -Miss Saunders was not yet in the star class—and -all expenses would be covered, including a week at -Gull Island. This opportunity to dwell in the -seats of the mighty, free of cost, with sea air and -scenery thrown in, Mr. Walberg held before her -as the final temptation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span></p> - -<p>He had no need for further persuasion for Miss -Saunders accepted at once. She was grateful to -him and said so and looked as if she meant it. He -felt the elation of a good work done for the charitable -ladies—they could get no one as capable as -Sybil Saunders for the price—and for the girl -herself whose best hope was to get back into harness. -So, in a glow of mutual satisfaction, they -walked to the door, Mr. Walberg telling over such -members of the cast as had already been engaged: -Sylvanus Grey for the Duke, Isabel Cornell for -Maria, John Gordon Trevor for Sir Toby—no -one could beat him, had the old English tradition—and -Anne Tracy for Olivia. At that -name Miss Saunders had exclaimed in evident -pleasure. Anne Tracy would be perfect, and it -would be so lovely having her, they were such -friends. Mr. Walberg nodded urbanely as if encouraging -the friendships of young actresses was -his dearest wish, and at the door put the coping -stone on these agreeable announcements:</p> - -<p>“And I’m going to give you my best director, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>Hugh Bassett. If with you and him they don’t -pull off a success the Maine public’s dumber than -I thought.”</p> - -<p>Later in the day he saw his director and told -him of Miss Saunders’ engagement.</p> - -<p>“Poor little thing,” he said. “She looks like -one of those vegetables they grow in the dark to -keep ’em white. But it’ll be the saving of her. -Now you go ahead and get this started—three -weeks rehearsal here and one up there ought to -do you. And keep me informed—if any of these -swell dames turn up asking questions, I want to -know where I’m at.”</p> - -<p>Her business accomplished, Miss Saunders -went home. She lived in one of those mid-town -blocks of old brownstone houses divided into flats. -The flats were of the variety known as “push button” -and “walk up,” but she pushed no button as -she knew hers would be tenantless. Letting herself -in with a latchkey she ascended the two flights -at a rapid run, unlocked her door and entered -upon the hot empty quietude of her own domain. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>The blinds in the parlor were lowered as she had -left them. She pulled one up with a nervous jerk, -threw her hat on a chair, and falling upon the divan -opened the paper that she had carried since -she left the Grand Central Station.</p> - -<p>The news of the day evidently had no interest -for her. She folded the pages back at the personal -column and settled over it, bent, motionless, -her eyes traveling down its length. Suddenly -they stopped, focussed on a paragraph. She rose -and with swift, tiptoe tread went into the hall -and tried the front door. Coming back she took a -pad and pencil from the desk, drew a small table -up to the divan, spread the newspaper on it, and -copied the paragraph on to the pad. It ran as -follows:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p class="no-indent">“Sister Carrie:</p> - -<p>Edmund stoney broke but Albert able to help -him. Think we ought to chip in. Can a date be -arranged for discussing his affairs?</p> - -<p class="right">Sam and Lewis.”</p></div> - -<p>She studied it for some time, the pencil suspended.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span> -Then it descended, crossing out letter -after letter, till three words remained—“Edmunton, -Alberta, Canada.” The signature she -guessed as the name he went by.</p> - -<p>She burned the written paper, grinding it to -powder in the ash-tray. The newspaper she threw -into the waste-basket where Luella, the mulatto -woman who “did up” for her, would find it in the -morning. She felt certain Luella was paid to -watch her, that the woman had a pass-key to the -mail-box and every torn scrap of letter or note -was foraged for and handed on. But she had continued -to keep the evil-eyed creature, fearful that -her dismissal would make them more than ever -wary, strengthen their suspicion that Sybil Saunders -was in communication with her lover.</p> - -<p>The deadly danger of it was cold at her heart -as she lay back on the divan and closed her eyes. -Through her shut lids she saw the paragraph with -the words of the address standing out like the -writing on the wall. She had heard directly from -him once, a letter the day after he had fled; the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>only one that even he, reckless in his despair, had -dared to send. In that he had told her to watch -the personal column in a certain paper and had -given her the names by which she could identify -the paragraphs. She had watched and twice -found the veiled message and twice waited in sickening -fear for discovery. It had not happened. -Now he had grown bolder, telling her where he -was—it was as if his hand beckoned her to come. -She could write to him at last, do it this evening -and take it out after dark. Lying very still, her -hands clasped behind her head, she ran over in her -mind letter-boxes, post-offices where she might -mail it. Were the ones in crowded districts or -those in secluded byways, the safest? It was like -walking through grasses where live wires were -hidden.</p> - -<p>A ring at the bell made her leap to her feet with -wild visions of detectives. But it was only Anne -Tracy, come in to see if she was back from her -visit on the Sound. It was a comfort to see Anne, -she always acted as if things were just as they -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>had been and never asked disturbing questions. -In the wilting heat she looked cool and fresh, her -dress of yellow linen, her straw hat encircled by a -wreath of nasturtiums had the dainty neatness -that always marked Anne’s clothes and Anne herself. -She was pale-skinned and black-haired, -satin-smooth hair drawn back from her forehead -and rolled up from the nape of her neck in an -ebony curve. Because her eyebrows slanted upward -at the ends and her eyes were long and -liquid-dark and her nose had the slightest retroussé -tilt, people said she looked like a Helleu -etching. And other people, who were more old-fashioned -and did not know what a Helleu etching -was, said she looked like a lady.</p> - -<p>She was Sybil’s best friend, was to have been -her bridesmaid. But she knew no more of Sybil’s -secrets since Jim Dallas had disappeared than any -one else. And she never sought to know—that -was why the friendship held.</p> - -<p>They had a great deal to talk about, but -chiefly the <i>Twelfth Night</i> affair. Anne was immensely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span> -pleased that Sybil had agreed to play. -She did not say this—she avoided any allusions to -Sybil’s recent conducting of her life—but her enthusiasm -about it all was irresistible. It warmed -the sad-eyed girl into interest; the Viola costume -was brought from its cupboard, the golden wig -tried on. When Anne took her departure late in -the day, after iced tea and layer cake in the kitchenette, -she felt much relieved about her friend—she -was “coming back,” coming alive again, and -this performance off in the country, far from her -old associations, was just the way for her to -start.</p> - -<p>Anne occupied another little flat on another of -the mid-town streets in another of the brownstone -houses. Hers was one room larger, for her -brother, Joe Tracy, lived with her when not pursuing -his profession on the road. There were -hiatuses in Joe’s pursuit during which he inhabited -a small bedroom in the rear and caused Ann -a great deal of worry and expense. Joe apparently -did not worry, certainly not about the expense.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span> -Absence of work wore on his temper not -because Anne had to carry the flat alone, but -because he had no spending money.</p> - -<p>They said it was his temper that stood in his -way. Something did, for he was an excellent -actor with that power of transforming himself -into an empty receptacle to be filled by the character -he portrayed. But directors who had had -experience of him, talked about his “natural -meanness” and shook their heads. When his name -was mentioned it had become the fashion to add a -follow-up sentence: “Seems impossible the same -parents could have produced him and Anne.” -People who tried to be sympathetic with Anne -about him got little satisfaction. All the most -persistent ever extracted was an admission that -Joe was “difficult.” No one—not even Sybil or -Hugh Bassett—ever heard what she felt about -the fight he had had with another boy over a game -of pool which had nearly landed him in the Elmira -Reformatory. Bassett had dragged him out of -that, and Bassett had found him work afterward, -and Bassett had boosted and helped and lectured -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>him since. And not for love of Joe, for in his -heart Bassett thought him a pretty hopeless -proposition.</p> - -<p>That evening, alone in her parlor, Anne was -thinking about him. He had no engagement and -no expectation of one, and it was not wise to leave -him alone in the flat without occupation. “Satan” -and “the idle hands” was a proverb that came to -your mind in connection with Joe. She went to -the window and leaned out. The air rose from the -street, breathless and dead, the heated exhalation -of walls and pavements baked all day by the merciless -sun. Passers-by moved languidly with a -sound of dragging feet. At areaways red-faced -women sat limp in loose clothing, and from open -windows came the crying of tired little children. -To leave Joe to this while she was basking in the -delights of Gull Island—apart from anything he -might do—it wasn’t fair. And then suddenly the -expression of her face changed and she drew in -from the window—Hugh Bassett was coming -down the street.</p> - -<p>The bell rang, she pushed the button and presently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span> -he was at the door saying he was passing -and thought he’d drop in for a minute. He was a -big thick-set man with a quiet reposeful quality -unshaken even by the heat. It was difficult to -think of Bassett shaken by any exterior accident -of life, so suggestive was his whole make-up of a -sustained equilibrium, a balanced adjustment of -mental and physical forces. He had dropped in a -great deal this summer and as the droppings-in -became more frequent Anne’s outside engagements -became less. They always simulated a mutual -surprise, giving them time to get over that somewhat -breathless moment of meeting.</p> - -<p>They achieved it rather better than usual -to-night for their minds were full of the same subject. -Bassett had come to impart the good news -about Sybil, and Anne had seen her and heard all -about it. There was a great deal of talking to be -done that was impersonal and during which one -forgot to be self-conscious. Finally when they -had threshed out all the matters of first importance -Bassett said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p> - -<p>“Did you tell her that Walberg wanted Aleck -Stokes for the Duke?”</p> - -<p>“No, I didn’t say a word about it. What was -the use? It would only have upset her and you’d -put a stop to it.”</p> - -<p>“You can always be relied on, Anne, to do the -tactful thing. Walberg was set on it. Stokes -can’t be beaten in that part and he’s at liberty. -But I wasn’t going to take any chances of her -refusing, and if Stokes was in the company I was -afraid she might.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know whether she’d have gone that far, -but it would have spoiled everything for her and -for the rest of us too. It’s all plain sailing now -except for one thing”—she stopped and then in -answer to his questioning look—“about the police. -If they have her under surveillance, as people say, -what’ll they do about it up there?”</p> - -<p>The big man shrugged:</p> - -<p>“Camp in the village on the mainland—they -certainly can’t come on the island. We’ve special -instructions about it—no one but the company to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>be allowed there till the performance. Did she -speak to you about that?”</p> - -<p>“No, she hardly ever alludes to the subject. -But they <i>would</i> keep a watch on her, wouldn’t -they?”</p> - -<p>He nodded, frowning a little at a complication -new in his experience:</p> - -<p>“I should think so—a woman in her position. -Men under sentence of death have been unable to -keep away from the girl they were in love with. -And then she may know where he is, be in communication -with him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t think that,” Anne breathed in -alarm. “She’d never take such a risk.”</p> - -<p>“Well, we’re her friends and we’re as much in -the dark as anybody. I only know one thing—if -they try to hound her down on that island—the -first chance she’s had to recuperate and rest—I’ll—”</p> - -<p>A slight grating noise came from the hall. -Anne held up a quick cautioning hand.</p> - -<p>“Take care,” she murmured. “Here’s Joe.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p> - -<p>Joe came in, his Panama hat low on his brow. -He gave no sign of greeting till he saw Bassett, -then he emitted an abrupt “Hello” and snatched -off the hat:</p> - -<p>“Little Anne’s got a caller. Howdy, Bassett! -How’s things?”</p> - -<p>There was a jovial note in his voice, a wide grin -of greeting on his face. It was evident the sight -of Bassett pleased him, and he stood teetering -back and forth on his toes and heels, looking ingratiatingly -at the visitor. He was like Anne, -the same delicate features, the same long eyebrows -and the same trick of raising them till they curved -high on his forehead. But his face had an elfish, -almost malign quality lacking in hers, and the -brown eyes, brilliant and hard, were set too close -to his nose. He was two years younger than -she—twenty-two—but looked older, immeasurably -older, in the baser worldly knowledge which had -already set its stamp upon him.</p> - -<p>He launched forth with a suggestion of pouncing -eagerness on the <i>Twelfth Night</i> performance. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>He had heard this and that, and Anne had told -him the other. His interest surprised Anne, he -hadn’t shown much to her; only a few laconic -questions. And she was wondering what was in -his mind, as she so often wondered when Joe held -the floor, when a question enlightened her:</p> - -<p>“Have you got anybody to play Sebastian -yet?”</p> - -<p>“No. I wanted that boy who played with her -on the southern tour last year, but he’s in England. -He gave a first-rate performance and he -<i>did</i> look like her.”</p> - -<p>“That was a lucky chance. You’ll search the -whole profession before you get any one that -looks like Sybil’s twin brother.”</p> - -<p>“He ought to bear some resemblance to her,” -and Bassett quoted, “‘One face, one voice, one -habit, and two persons.’ I wonder if Shakespeare -had twins in his eye when he wrote the play.”</p> - -<p>“Not he! They did the same in his day as they -do now—dressed ’em up alike and let it go at that. -Why, Mrs. Gawtrey, the English actress, when -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>she was over here, had a boy to play Sebastian -who looked as much like her—well, not as much as -I look like Sybil.”</p> - -<p>Bassett had seen his object as Anne had and -was considering. He had been looking forward -to the week at Gull Island with Anne, it loomed in -his imagination as a festival. There would be a -pleasant, companionable group of people, -friendly, working well together. But Joe among -them——</p> - -<p>The boy, looking down at his feet, said slowly:</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with letting me do it?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing’s the matter. I’ve no doubt you -could, but you and she have about as much resemblance -as chalk and cheese.”</p> - -<p>Joe wheeled and gathering his coat neatly -about his waist walked across the room with a -mincing imitation of Sybil’s gait. It was so well -done that Bassett could not contain his laughter. -Encouraged, the boy assumed a combative attitude, -his face aflame with startled anger, and -striking out, at imaginary opponents, shouted: -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>“‘Why there’s for thee, and there and there and -there. Are all the people mad?’” Then as suddenly -melted to a lover’s tone and looking ardently -at Anne said: “‘If it be thus to dream -then let me sleep.’”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he <i>could</i> play it,” she exclaimed, and Bassett -weakened before the pleading in her eyes.</p> - -<p>He understood how to manage Joe, he could -keep him in order. The boy was afraid of him -anyway, and by this time knew that his future lay -pretty well in Bassett’s hands. If there was anything -Anne wanted that was within his gift there -could be no question about its being hers.</p> - -<p>She was very sweet, murmuring her thanks as -she went with him to the door and assurances that -Joe would acquit himself well. Bassett hardly -heard what she said, looking into her dark eyes, -feeling the soft farewell pressure of her hand.</p> - -<p>Joe had left the sitting-room when she went -back there and she supposed he had gone to bed. -But presently he came in, his hat on again and -said he was going out. She was surprised, it was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>past eleven, but he swung about looking for his -cane, saying it was too hot to sleep. She tried to -detain him with remarks about the new work. He -answered shortly as was his wont with her, treating -it as a small matter, nothing to get excited -about—also a familiar pose. But she noticed -under his nonchalance a repressed satisfaction, -the glow of an inner elation in his eyes.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="I">I</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> performance was over and the audience -was dispersing. Gull Island, colored to a chromo -brightness by the declining sun, had not showed -so animated an aspect since the reception for the -Spanish ambassador last July. People in pale-tinted -summer clothes were trailing across from -the open-air theater and massing in a group as -gay as a flower garden at the dock. Some of -them had gone into the house, taken the chance to -have a look at it—when the Driscolls were “in residence” -you couldn’t so much as put your foot on -the rocks round the shore. Others lingered, having -a farewell word with the actors, congratulating -them—it was the right thing to do and they -deserved it. The committee was very affable, -shaking hands with Mr. Bassett the director and -Miss Saunders the star, who, in her page’s dress -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>with the paint still on her face, looked tired, poor -girl, but was so sweet and unassuming.</p> - -<p>It had been a complete success. The matrons -who had organized it scanned the crowd converging -toward the dock and smiled the comfortable -smile of accomplishment. The summer home for -tenement children could build its new wing and -employ that man from Boston who had such modern -scientific methods. And the matrons, stiff in -the back and unbecomingly flushed after sitting -two hours in the sun on the stone seats of the -theater, drew toward one another on the wharf -and agreed that everything had gone off beautifully -and the board should at once write to Mr. -Driscoll and thank him for lending the island.</p> - -<p>The fleet of boats, rocking gently on the narrow -channel that separated Gull Island from the -mainland, took on their freight and darted off. -They started in groups then broke apart. Speed -boats that had come from points afar, whizzed -away with a seething rush and a crumple of crystal -foam at the bow. The launches skimmed, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>light-winged, the white flurry of their wakes like -threads that stretched back to the island.</p> - -<p>People turned and looked at it—sun-gilded in -an encircling girdle of Prussian blue sea. The -rocks about its base, the headlands that rose -above, were dyed to an orange red and against -this brilliancy of primary colors the pines stood -out darkly silhouetted. On the rise above the -wharf the long brown structure of the house -spread, rambling and irregular, built, it was said, -to suggest an outgrowth of the rocky foundation. -The watchers could see in the open place beyond -the side balcony the actors standing motionless, -spaced in a group. Yes, having their photographs -taken; there was the camera man who’d -been taking pictures during the performance. -And they craned their necks for a last look at the -lovely scene and the picturesque assemblage of -players.</p> - -<p>Part of the flotilla carried the Hayworth villagers—all-year -residents of the little town on the -mainland. Some of the more solid citizens were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>in the launch that old Gabriel Harvey owned, -which had been used by the actors in their week’s -stay. Hayworth had gathered a great deal of -information about these spectacular visitors, -some from Gabriel and some from Sara Pinkney -who was Mr. Driscoll’s housekeeper, living in -Hayworth all winter and in summer reigning in -the Gull Island kitchen. Mr. Driscoll had wired -Sara to go over and open up and take charge -while they were there—spare nothing, those were -his orders. And Sara had done it, not wanting to, -but apart from its being Mr. Driscoll’s wishes -which she had followed for the last ten years, she -had felt it her duty to keep an eye on the property. -Every day she came over to Hayworth for -supplies and had to appease the local curiosity, -which she did grudgingly, feeling her power.</p> - -<p>Now at last the Hayworth people had had a -first-hand view of the actors—the whole company, -dressed up and performing—and they -fitted Sara Pinkney’s description to them. Olivia, -that was Miss Tracy, the one she said was so refined<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span> -and pleasant-spoken. And the Duke was -Alexander Stokes. He was the feller that had -come after the others because the first man took -sick—wonderful the way he did it considering, -didn’t miss a word. And the woman who stood -round and “tended on” Olivia was his wife. Sara -hadn’t said much about her. Well, she wasn’t of -much importance anyhow or she’d have had more -acting to do. But that boy who was Viola’s twin, -he was Miss Tracy’s brother, and Sara had said -he and Miss Saunders didn’t get on well, <i>she</i> could -see it though they didn’t say much. And here -piped up the butcher’s wife who was more interested -in the play than in personalities:</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how Olivia took him for the page -she was in love with. He didn’t look like Viola in -the face. She was real pretty, but he’d a queer -sly mug on him, that boy.”</p> - -<p>“Aw, you can’t be too particular. You don’t -need to have it so real.”</p> - -<p>“I guess she was meant to be blinded by love. -And him dressed the same, hair and all, might lead -her astray.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t see how you could have ’em look just -alike unless they’d get an actress who had a real -twin brother, and maybe you’d go the whole -country over and not find that.”</p> - -<p>“He ain’t like her no way,” growled old Gabriel -from the wheel, “I seen ’em both when they wasn’t -acting and he’s an ugly pup, that one.”</p> - -<p>Then the boat grating on the Hayworth wharf, -Gabriel urged them off. He hadn’t got through -yet, got to go back for part of the company who -were calculating to get the main line at Spencer, -and after that back again for the Tracy boy. He -muttered on as they climbed out, grumbling to -himself, which nobody noticed as it had been his -mode of expression for the last thirty years.</p> - -<p>The swaying throng of boats emptied their cargoes -and the thick-pressed crowd, moving to the -end of the wharf, separated into streams and -groups. Farewells, last commending comments, -rose on the limpid sea-scented air. Everybody -was a little tired. The villagers, dragging their -feet, passed along the board walks to their vine-draped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span> -piazzas. They would find their kitchens -hot and dull that night after two hours in the enchanted -land of Illyria. The waiting line of motors -absorbed the summer visitors, wheeled off and -purred away past the white cottages under the -New England elms. The matrons sank gratefully -upon the yielding cushions, rolling by the -dusty buggies, the battered Fords, the lines of -bicycle riders, into the quiet serene country where -the shadows were lying long and clear. Yes, it -had been a great success; from first to last there -hadn’t been a hitch.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">That</span> was how the audience saw it, but they -were outsiders. There was one outsider left on -the island, Wally Shine, the photographer sent -by the Universal Syndicate to take pictures of -what was a “notable society event” in a place of -which the public had heard much and seen nothing. -He had arrived that morning with two cameras -and a delighted appreciation of the beauty he -was to record. But, unlike the other outsiders, -his impressions extending over a longer period -had not been so agreeable. He had seen the actors -at close range, in their habits as they lived, -lunched with them, watched the last rehearsal, -taken a lot of pictures of Miss Saunders in the -house and garden. And he had sensed an electric -disturbance in the atmosphere, and come upon -evidences of internal discord.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span></p> - -<p>That was at the last rehearsal, when the poetic -Viola had lost her temper like an ordinary woman -and jumped on the Tracy boy—something about -the place he stood in—nothing, as far as Shine -could see, to get mad about. And the boy had -answered in kind like the spitting of an angry cat. -An ugly scene that the director had to stop.</p> - -<p>Then the man Stokes who played the Duke, a -handsome, romantic-looking chap—something -was the matter with him. “Eating him” was the -phrase Shine used to himself and it wasn’t a bad -one. He had a haunted sort of look, as if his -mind was disturbed, especially when he’d turn his -eyes on Miss Saunders. Shine had noticed him -particularly when they gathered for the group -pictures; his hands were unsteady and the perspiration -was out on his forehead though the air -was cool from the sea. His wife—the woman they -called Flora—was on to him. Shine saw her -watching him, sidelong from under her eyelids, -the way you watch a person when you don’t want -them to see it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p> - -<p>The photographer was a fat easy-going man, -inured to the vagaries of those who follow the -arts. But he was sensitive to emotional stress and -he felt it here—below the surface—and was moved -to curiosity.</p> - -<p>The photographs were finished and the group -broke up. Part of the company were going and -they ran toward the house—a medieval route—the -big Sir Toby with a rolling amble, Sir Andrew, -long and lank, cavorting like a mettlesome -steed. Their antic shadows fled before them over -the dried sea grass, and their voices, shouting -absurdities, rang rich and deep-throated on the -crystal atmosphere.</p> - -<p>Miss Saunders and Miss Tracy linked arms and -moved off toward the headlands. Receding in the -amber light they were like a picture from some -antique romance—the noble lady and her page. -One in narrow casings of crimson brocade, the -other in short swinging kilt and braided jacket of -more sober gray. Shine, fascinated, watched -them pacing slowly over the burnished grass. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>Flocks of sea-gulls, roused by their voices, rose -into the air, poised and wheeled, one moment dark, -the next floating shapes of gold. He turned to go -and saw that Stokes was watching them too, intent -like a hungry dog, the hand that held a stalk -of feathered grass against his lips, trembling.</p> - -<p>The photographer shouldered his camera and -went toward the house. A jeweled brightness of -garden extended along its seaward front. Beyond -this was the one stretch of cultivated turf on the -island, an emerald slope leading to the cuplike hollow -that held the amphitheater. He skirted the -side balcony, the wide-flung doors giving a -glimpse of an entrance hall, and turning the corner -emerged upon the land front of the long capacious -building. The surroundings on this side -had been left as nature made them—rock shelves -and ledges, devoid of vegetation, a path winding -round them from the entrance to the wharf. Hayworth -showed across the channel in a clustering of -gray roofs from which smoke skeins rose straight -into the suave rose-washed sky. The water -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>rushed between, a swollen tide, threads of white -dimpled eddies, telling of its racing speed.</p> - -<p>The door on this side of the house opened directly -into the living-room. No hall within or -porch without interfered with the view; the path -ended unceremoniously at the foot of two broad -steps that led to the threshold. On the lower of -these steps Shine found a lady sitting smoking a -cigarette. This was the Maria of the cast, Mrs. -Cornell in private life. She was still in her costume, -her redundant figure swelling over the traditional -laced bodice, the rouge on her cheeks -hardly showing against the coat of sunburn a -week at Gull Island had laid on. He had found -her as easy as himself, good-humoredly loquacious -and not involved in the prevailing discord. An -admirable person to clear up mysteries. He sank -down beside her on the step and took the cigarette -box she flipped toward him.</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t you think,” she said, “a man as rich -as this Mr. Driscoll would fix up round here -better?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span></p> - -<p>Shine, who had artistic responses, had long -learned not to intrude them on the uninitiated.</p> - -<p>“I guess he liked it wild,” he suggested, and lit -a cigarette.</p> - -<p>“But it looks so rough, not a flower bed or a -vase—just paths. That one there,” she pointed -to a path that skirted the side of the house and -dipped to a small grove of pines below, “goes -through those pines and up to that summer-house. -Nothing on the way and what’s the summer-house -when you get there? Old style rustic work with -vines. You’d suppose he’d build a temple and -have some marble benches round. The way the -rich spend their money always gets me.”</p> - -<p>Shine had been in the grove of pines, a growth -of stunted trees filling in a hollow. He had followed -the path through it, up the slope to the -summer-house and beyond to where the bluff -dropped away in a sheer cliff to the channel. -They called the place “The Point” as it projected -beyond the shore line in a rocky outthrust shoulder, -gulls circling about it, water seething below. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>He looked there now, let his glance slip along the -curve of headlands till it reached the two girls, -perched on a boulder like a pair of bright-plumaged -birds. He was thinking how to approach the -matter in his mind, when Mrs. Cornell went on:</p> - -<p>“I don’t see what any one wanted to build a -house here for—cut off this way. It’s too lonesome. -With the tide at the full as it is now you -can’t get ashore without a motor-boat. You know -that current’s something fierce.”</p> - -<p>He looked down at it, its rushing corded surface -purple dark:</p> - -<p>“Looks to be some current.”</p> - -<p>“It would carry you out and ‘Good night’ to -you. Gabriel who runs the launch told me. Set’s -right out to sea someway. And the rise and fall -to it—I couldn’t tell you how many feet it is, but -you’ll see for yourself to-night if you’re awake—all -the channel bare, nothing but rocks and mud. -And across the middle of it to Hayworth, a -causeway. That’s the only way you can get -ashore at <i>low</i> tide. High or low you’re pretty -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>well marooned. It’s seclusion all right if that’s -what you’re after.”</p> - -<p>Shine was after information and with the talk -running on tides and causeways he saw no chance -of getting it. So he tried to divert the garrulous -lady:</p> - -<p>“That’s Miss Saunders and Miss Tracy out -there looking at the sunset.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell answered with emphasis:</p> - -<p>“Yes, <i>they’re</i> friends.”</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you all?”</p> - -<p>“Some of us knew each other before we came -here,” was her cryptic reply. Then she added -pensively: “Six months ago you’d never have -found Sybil Saunders looking at a sunset. She -was the <i>brightest</i> thing!”</p> - -<p>“Awful misfortune that what happened to her.”</p> - -<p>She gave a derisive sound at the inadequacy of -the word:</p> - -<p>“Hah—awful! Took the heart right out of -her. If you ever saw a girl in love it was she—bound -up in him. Everything ready, the wedding -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>day set, the trousseau made.” Tears rose in her -eyes and she dove into her tight bodice for a handkerchief. -“Never to be worn, Mr. Shine—that’s -life.”</p> - -<p>Shine gave forth sympathetic murmurs and -Mrs. Cornell, dabbing at her eyes, furnished data -between the dabs:</p> - -<p>“Two men drinking too much and then a fight, -and before anybody knew, murder! If there -hadn’t been a brass candlestick near Jim Dallas’ -hand it would never have happened. Honest to -God, Mr. Shine, there was nothing evil in that -young man. But the Parkinson family are camped -on his trail. The evil’s in them, if you ask me, -with their rewards and detectives.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder if she knows where he is.”</p> - -<p>“I guess there’s more than one wondering that,” -the lady murmured.</p> - -<p>“Terribly hard position for her if she does -know—or if she doesn’t.”</p> - -<p>Shine looked at the page’s figure on the rock. -She carried the thing stamped on her face. He -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>had noticed it particularly where he had taken the -photographs of her in the living-room. They -were time exposures with his small camera, attempts -to catch her fragile prettiness in artistic -combinations of light and shade. Once or twice -the mask had been dropped and he had seen the -drooping lines, the weariness, and something like -fear on the delicate features.</p> - -<p>For a space they smoked in silence. Round the -corner of the house the tall figure of Stokes -strolled into view. He looked at the seated girls, -then turned and glanced behind him with a quick -and furtive sweep of the eyes. At the sight of -them he nodded, walked down to the wharf and -dropped on a bench.</p> - -<p>Shine lowered his voice:</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter with him?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell met his eyes; her own were narrowed -and sharp.</p> - -<p>“What makes you think anything is?”</p> - -<p>“His whole make-up—something’s wearing on -him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p> - -<p>She blew out a long shoot of smoke and, watching -it, murmured:</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s out on him like a rash. He oughtn’t -to have come, but the first man they had, Sylvanus -Grey, took sick and Mr. Walberg engaged -Stokes in a hurry and sent him up. It’s spoiled -everything for the rest of us. He’s crazy about -Sybil if you want to know what’s the matter with -him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” It came with an understanding inflection, -the haggard glances rising on Shine’s memory.</p> - -<p>“Can’t hide it, doesn’t want to hide it. There’s -no shame in him, tracking after the girl. And -it’s not as if he got any encouragement. She can’t -bear him; that’s why she has Anne Tracy out -there, afraid if she sits alone five minutes he’ll -come loping up. You’d think if he didn’t have -any pride he’d have some feeling for his wife. -She’s half crazy with jealousy, burning up with -it. These purple passions are all right in books, -Mr. Shine, but believe me they’re not comfortable -to live with.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span></p> - -<p>“I felt it.”</p> - -<p>“I guess you would, it’s in the air. All of us -cooped up in this place where you can’t get off. -I thought it was going to be such a nice restful -change. But lord! It’s about as restful as camping -on the side of Vesuvius. Sybil and Joe Tracy -ready to fight at the drop of the hat and Flora -going round in circles and Stokes like one of those -fireworks that starts sputtering and you don’t -know whether they’re going to explode or die on -you. I tell you I’ll be glad when we get out of -here to-morrow morning.”</p> - -<p>There was a footfall in the room behind them -and Mrs. Cornell turned to see who was coming.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Flora,” she said. “Come out and take a -look at the sunset. It’s something grand.”</p> - -<p>The woman stepped out and stood beside them. -She had changed her costume and her narrow blue -linen dress outlined her too slender figure. Shine -thought she would have been pretty if she had not -looked so worn and thin. He noticed the brightness -of her dark eyes, brilliant and quick-moving -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>as a bird’s. There was red on her cheek-bones, a -flushed patch that was not rouge. Mrs. Cornell’s -expression recurred to him, “burning up”—the -meager body, the hot high color, the dry lips resolutely -smiling, suggested inner fires.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she answered, “it’s a wonderful -evening.”</p> - -<p>“Take a cig.” Mrs. Cornell offered the box.</p> - -<p>“Sit down, there’s plenty of room.” Shine -moved up.</p> - -<p>“No, I can’t sit down. There’s something about -the air that makes you restless—too stimulating -maybe.” She raised her voice and called to her -husband, “Aleck, aren’t you coming in to change -your clothes?”</p> - -<p>Without moving the man called back:</p> - -<p>“Not yet. There’s no hurry.”</p> - -<p>She turned to Shine with a little condoning air -of wifely tolerance:</p> - -<p>“Mr. Stokes has been shut up so long in town -he can’t get enough of the fresh air.”</p> - -<p>“He’s enjoying the scenery, too,” Shine answered,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span> -and saw her eyes travel to the two figures -on the rock.</p> - -<p>“Oh, that of course—that’s the best part of it.” -Then in a tone of bright discovery: “Why look -where Anne and Sybil are! Have they been there -long?”</p> - -<p>“Ever since I’ve been here.” Mrs. Cornell’s -voice was more than soothing, bluffly reassuring -as the voice of one who tells a child there is no -ghost. “And ever since Mr. Shine got through -the pictures! Wallowing in the beauties of nature -like the rest of us.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t you wallow, too?” Shine indicated the -long unoccupied space on the step.</p> - -<p>She shook her head:</p> - -<p>“I like moving about. Something in this place -gets on my nerves, it’s like being in a jail.” On a -deep breath she shot out, “I hate it,” and stepped -back into the room.</p> - -<p>“Going?” Mrs. Cornell veered round to follow -her retreating figure.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I enjoy the scenery better when it hasn’t -got people in it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span></p> - -<p>They looked at each other; a still minute of eye -communication.</p> - -<p>“She’s all worked up,” he murmured.</p> - -<p>Her answer was to point to the two girls and -then to Stokes:</p> - -<p>“Now she’ll keep her eye on them from somewhere -else—probably the side piazza. That’s the -way you are when you’re jealous—the sight of it -kills you and you can’t stop watching.”</p> - -<p>“Lord!” whispered Shine into whose life no such -gnawing passions had entered. And he thought -of the girl in the page’s dress who was afraid to -sit alone, and the man on the wharf brooding -within sight of her, and the woman who was hovering -round them like a helpless distracted bird.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> launch was on its way back for those of -the actors who were leaving. Gabriel, squatting -by the engine, calculated the distribution of his -time. After he’d taken them across he’d have his -supper and then go back for Joe Tracy, who was -leaving on the seven fifteen for his vacation. -When Joe was disposed of, Gabriel was to meet -two Boston sports who had engaged him for a -week’s deep-sea fishing at White Beach, twenty-five -miles down the coast. It was a strenuous -program for the old man and he grumbled to himself -about it, the grumbling gaining zest by anticipations -that some of them would be late. If it -was any of the actors, by gum, he wouldn’t wait -for them, with the sports ready to take him along -in their car at seven. By the time he drew near -the island he had grumbled himself into a state of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>irascible defiance against any one who would dare -upset his plans.</p> - -<p>To warn them of his coming he sounded the -whistle and its shrill toot acted like a magic summons. -A group of men, bearing suit-cases and -bags, emerged from the entrance and ran down -the path, Bassett following. Miss Pinkney’s -helper, a native of Hayworth, hurried from the -kitchen wing, a suit-case in her hand, and even the -august Sara herself appeared in the doorway of -her domain.</p> - -<p>Gabriel quieted down—they were all ready and -waiting—and then saw Joe Tracy come round the -corner of the house in his Sebastian dress. The -old man muttered profanely—why wasn’t the -d——d cub getting ready? And as the boat -made its landing, he called out:</p> - -<p>“Say, you’d better be gettin’ them togs off. -I’ll be back here for you at a quarter to seven.”</p> - -<p>The boy, leaping lightly from rock to rock, -grinned without answering. The picturesque -dress suited him, he looked almost handsome, and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>with the feathered cap on his golden wig set rakishly -aslant, he moved downward with a taunting -debonair swagger. Gabriel didn’t like him anyway -and now his impudent face, framed by the -drooping blond curls, looked to the launch man -malignantly spiteful.</p> - -<p>Gabriel could say no more then for the confusion -of good-bys possessed the wharf. The -actors shouted them out even to Miss Pinkney, -flattering assurances of their inability to forget -her and her cooking. She waved a condescending -hand and permitted herself a smile, for she was -very glad to get rid of them.</p> - -<p>But Gabriel wasn’t going to go till he’d made -things clear. He appealed to Bassett whom he -had privately sized up as the only one of the outfit -who was like the rational human males of his -experience. Besides he had seen that Joe Tracy -respected, if not feared, the director:</p> - -<p>“I’ll be back here at quarter to seven for the -Tracy boy, and I’m tellin’ him he’s got to be -ready. I can’t waste no time settin’ round waitin’ -and if he’s not here on the dot—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span></p> - -<p>“That’s all right,” Bassett put a comforting -hand on his shoulder and turned to Joe. “You -heard that, Joe?”</p> - -<p>The boy answered with his sneering grin:</p> - -<p>“What’s got the old geezer? Does he think -I’m as deaf as he is?”</p> - -<p>Gabriel’s weather-beaten visage reddened. He -was not in the habit of being called an “old -geezer” and he was not deaf. But the actors, all -in the boat, were clamoring to start. They had a -train to make—get in ancient servitor, and turn -on the current. Miss Pinkney’s helper, with her -hat on one side and her face crimson, giggled hysterically, -and in a chorus of farewells the boat -chugged off.</p> - -<p>The three men left on the wharf went up the -path to the doorway where Shine and Mrs. Cornell -had resumed their seats. Shine was struck -by their difference of type,—if you went the world -over you couldn’t find three more varied specimens. -The only one he liked was Bassett, something -square and solid about him and a good -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>straight look in his eyes. The kind of chap, Shine -thought, you’d ask directions of in the street and -who’d give ’em to you no matter what hurry he -was in. And he’d a lot of authority—the way he -managed this wild-eyed bunch showed that. Shine -had noticed, too, a sort of exuberant quality of -good will about him—like a light within shining -out—and set it down to relief at having got -through without any one blowing the lid off.</p> - -<p>They stopped at the steps and Joe Tracy made -his good-bys. He was going camping in the -woods with his friend Jimmy Travers, who was -to meet him at Bangor to-night. They’d stay -there twenty-four hours getting their stuff together, -then be off for the northern solitudes—no -beaten tracks for them. He left, jauntily swinging -his kilted skirts, a whistled tune on his lips. -Soon after, Stokes departed, saying he was going -to change his clothes. His air was nonchalant, -lounging up the steps and crossing the living-room -with a lazy padding stride.</p> - -<p>A door to the right opened into the entrance -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>hall. Here he and his wife occupied a ground-floor -room. It was on the garden front of the -house opposite the stairway that led to the second -story. He listened at the panel before he entered, -then softly turned the knob, and, inside, as softly -closed the door. Shut in and alone his languid -pose fell from him like a cloak. An avid eagerness -sharpened his features and directed his -hands, pulling open his valise and taking from it a -small leather case. Moving back from the window -he pushed up his sleeve, took the hypodermic from -the case and pressed in the needle. When he had -restored the bag to its place, he threw himself on -the bed and lay with closed eyes feeling the ineffable -comfort, grateful as an influx of life, vitalize -and soothe his tortured being.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell and Shine rose up and followed -him. Mrs. Cornell had her packing to get through -and wanted Miss Pinkney’s help. Shine was going -to see if the pantry would do for a dark room, -intending to take some flashlight photographs of -the company that evening. He had found in a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>cabinet all the flashlight requisites and thought -it would be an interesting memento of their visit—each -of them to have a picture.</p> - -<p>“They’ve got everything here,” he said as he -pointed to the corner where he had made his find. -“Not alone all the supplies, but two first-class -cameras and a projector. I suppose some of the -family took it up for a fad.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell opined it was to occupy the young -men. There were several Driscoll boys and if you -didn’t give them something to do they’d get into -mischief. Though, if you asked her, she didn’t -see any chances for mischief in <i>this</i> jumping-off -place, unless the high tide washed in a few mermaids.</p> - -<p>Then they passed on through the left doorway, -into the side wing of the house. Here Shine, who -was domiciled in the butler’s bedroom, disappeared -into the adjoining pantry and Mrs. Cornell -trod resolutely on into the kitchen, being one -of the few members of the company who was not -afraid of the housekeeper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<p>Miss Pinkney, who was sitting upright in a -stiff-backed chair, rose respectfully. She was a -lean slab-sided woman of fifty, with tight-drawn -hair and a long horse face. She had disapproved -bitterly of the intrusion of the actors upon the -sacred precincts of Gull Island and though she -had been rigidly polite hoped that her disapproval -had got across. Anyway, she had had the satisfaction -of putting cotton sheets on their beds -and serving their meals on the kitchen china. If -they did any damage to the house or premises she -was ready to assert her authority, and she had -been on the watch. But they had been careful and -orderly and treated her with the proper deference, -and in her heart the revolutionary thought had -arisen that they were equally considerate and -more amusing than the usual run of Gull Island -guests. Also they gave her a subject of conversation -that would last out the winter.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell broached her request and Miss -Pinkney agreed. She was even very pleasant -about it, showing a brisk friendly alacrity—with -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>the helper gone there’d only be a cold supper and -she could dish that up in two shakes. Together -they left the kitchen and on the stairs Mrs. Cornell -hooked her plump arm inside Miss Pinkney’s -bony one and said when Mr. Shine took the flashlights -that night he must take one of them as the -“feeder” and the other as the “fed.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bassett</span> had gone into the house too. As he -crossed the living-room he noticed its deserted -quietude, in contrast to the noise and bustle that -had possessed it an hour ago.</p> - -<p>It was a rich friendly room, comfortably homelike -in spite of its size, for it crossed the center of -the house, its rear door opening on the garden as -the one opposite did on the path. It was spacious -in height as well as width, its walls rising two -stories. Midway up a gallery ran, on three sides -of which the bedrooms opened. The fourth side, -on the seaward front, was flanked by a line of -windows, great squares of unsullied glass that -looked over the garden and the amphitheater to -the uplands and the open ocean. There were -tables here, raking wicker chairs, and low settees -with brilliant cushions, books lying about and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>smokers’ materials. In the room below the character -of a hunting lodge had been suggested by -mounted deer heads, Indian blankets, baskets of -cunning weave and animal skins on the floor. But -it was an idealized hunting lodge, with seats in -which the body sank luxuriously, and softly -shaded lights. Round the deep-mouthed chimney -the scent of wood fires lingered, the fires of birch -logs that leaped there when Gull Island lay under -storm and mist. The architect had not diminished -the effect of size and unencumbered space by -stairs. The second story was reached by two -flights, one in the entrance hall, one in the kitchen -wing.</p> - -<p>Bassett opened the door into the hall where -again all was quiet, none of the jarring accents -that occasionally rose from the Stokes’ room. He -walked across the gleaming parquette to the library -which he had used for his office. There -were no signs of the hunting lodge here—a scholarly -retreat, book-lined, with leather armchairs -and lights arranged for readers’ eyes, a place for -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>delightful hours if one had time to drowse and -poke about on the shelves. Two long French windows -framed a view of the channel and Hayworth -dreaming among its elms. He went to one of the -windows and looked out. The girls were still sitting -there, and, as he looked at them, an expression -of infinite tenderness lay like a light on his -face. It was the light Shine had noticed, allowed -to break through clearly now that no one was -there to see.</p> - -<p>He sat down at the desk; there were letters for -him to answer, addenda of the performance to -check up. He moved the papers, looked at them, -pushed them away, and, resting his forehead on -his hands, relinquished himself to a deep pervading -happiness. Yesterday Anne had promised to -marry him.</p> - -<p>His mind, held all day to his work, now flew to -her—memories of her face with the down-bent lids -as he had asked her, and the look in her eyes as -they met his. Brave beautiful eyes with her soul -in them. It had been no light acceptance for her, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>it meant the surrendering of her whole being, her -life given over to him. He heard her voice again, -and his face sank into his hands, his heart trembling -in the passion of its dedication to her service. -Anne, whom he had coveted and yearned for and -thought so far beyond his reach—his! He would -be worthy of her, and he would take such care of -her, gird her round with his two arms, a buckler -against every ill that life might bring. She’d had -such a hard time of it, struggling up by herself -with Joe hung round her neck like a millstone.</p> - -<p>At the memory of Joe he came to earth with a -jarring impact. He dropped his hands and -stared at the papers, his brows bent in harassed -thought. Joe had broken the charm, obstructed -the way to the paradise of dreams like the angel -with the flaming sword—though angel was not -exactly the word. Bassett had heard something -that morning from Sybil which must be looked -into—something he could hardly believe. But -Joe being what he was you never could tell. It -had been a mistake to bring him, with Sybil a -bunch of nerves and Stokes shunted unexpectedly -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>into their midst. And now he felt responsible, -he’d have it out with Joe before he left. One more -disagreeable scene before they separated to-morrow, -and Bassett, like Mrs. Cornell, felt he’d -thank Providence when they were all on the train -in the morning. Meantime he’d go over his papers -while he waited for the boy who had gone to -his room to dress. The door was open and he -could hear him as he came down the stairs.</p> - -<p>Anne was approaching the house, a slender -crimson figure, her hair in the sunset light shining -like black lacquer. She was smiling to herself—everything -was so beautiful, not only Gull -Island and this hour of tranquil glory, but the -mere fact of existing. Then she saw Flora Stokes -sitting on the balcony and realized that in this -golden world there were people to whom life was -a dark and troublous affair. She wanted to comfort -Flora, let some of the happiness in her own -heart spill over into that burdened one. But she -knew no way of doing it, could only smile at the -haggard face the woman lifted from her book.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mrs. Stokes, reading,” she cried as she -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>ran up the steps. “How can you read on such an -evening as this?”</p> - -<p>Flora Stokes said she had been walking about -till she was tired, and then glanced at the distant -rock:</p> - -<p>“You’ve left Sybil out there.”</p> - -<p>There was no comfort or consolation that could -penetrate Mrs. Stokes’ obsession. Anne could -only reassure:</p> - -<p>“She’s coming in soon. She just wanted to see -the end of the sunset.”</p> - -<p>She passed into the hall, sorry—oh, so sorry! -But the library door was open and she halted, -poised birdlike for one glance. The man at the -desk had his back to her and she said nothing, yet -he turned, gave a smothered sound and jumped -up. She shut her eyes as she felt his arms go -about her and his kisses on her hair, her senses -blurred in a strange ineffably sweet confusion of -timidity and delight.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Anne,” she heard his voice between the -kisses. “I was waiting for you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p> - -<p>“Some one will see us,” she whispered. “Take -care.”</p> - -<p>She could feel the beating of his heart through -his coat. Her hands went up to his shoulders -feeling along the rough tweed and with her lids -down-drooped she lifted her face.</p> - -<p>“Darling,” he breathed, when the kiss was over, -“I thought you were never coming.”</p> - -<p>“I had to stay with Sybil. She didn’t want to -be alone.”</p> - -<p>“But <i>you</i> wanted to be here?”</p> - -<p>“Just <i>here</i>,” she laid a finger on his breast and -broke into smothered, breathless laughter.</p> - -<p>He laughed too and they drew apart, their -hands sliding together and interlocking. It was -all so new, so bewilderingly entrancing, that they -did not know how to express it, the man staring -wonder-struck, the girl, with her quivering laughter -that was close to tears, looking this way and -that, not knowing where to look.</p> - -<p>“I ought to go,” she whispered. “They’ll be -coming,” but made no move.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p> - -<p>“Wait till they do.” Then with a sudden -practical facing of realities, “When will we be -married?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, not for ages! I’m not used to being engaged -yet!”</p> - -<p>“I am—I never was before but I must have had -a talent for it, I’ve taken to it so well.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Hugh!” Her laughter came more naturally, -his with it. They were like a pair of children, -delighting in a little secret. “Won’t they -be surprised when they hear? Nobody has a suspicion -of it.”</p> - -<p>She looked so enchanting with her eyebrows -arched in mischievous query that he made a movement -to clasp her again, and then came the creak -of an opening door from the floor above.</p> - -<p>“Hist!” she held up a warning hand and slid -away, her face, glancing back for a last look, -beautiful in its radiant joy.</p> - -<p>Bassett moved to the stair-foot. Once again -he had to come down to earth with a bump. He -passed his hand over his face as if to wipe off an -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span>expression incompatible with disagreeable interviews. -This must be Joe.</p> - -<p>It <i>was</i> Joe, dressed for travel in knickerbockers -and a Norfolk jacket, a golf cap on the back of -his head. He carried an overcoat across his arm, -in his hands a suit-case and a fishing-rod done up -in a canvas case. At the sight of Bassett he -halted, and the elder man noticed a change in his -expression, a quick focusing to attention.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” he said. “Want to see me, Bassett?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I want to speak to you before you go.”</p> - -<p>Joe descended. Stopping a step above Bassett, -he set down his baggage and leaned on the banister, -politely waiting.</p> - -<p>Bassett spoke with lowered voice:</p> - -<p>“I heard something this morning that I can -hardly believe—an accusation against you. That -you’ve been using your position here to act as one -of the police spies who’ve been keeping tab on -Sybil.”</p> - -<p>The boy looked at him with impenetrable eyes -and answered in the same lowered key:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p> - -<p>“Who told you that?”</p> - -<p>“She did. She accuses you of having come here -with that intention, got the job knowing that no -outsiders were to be allowed on the island.”</p> - -<p>Bassett was certain he had paled under his tan, -but his face retained a masklike passivity.</p> - -<p>“Sounds as if she might be losing her mind.”</p> - -<p>“You deny it?”</p> - -<p>The boy gave a scornful shrug:</p> - -<p>“Of course I deny it. I shouldn’t think it would -be necessary to ask that. She’s had a down on -me for some time—everybody’s seen it, snapping -and snarling at me for nothing—and I suppose -she wants to get an excuse for it.”</p> - -<p>“She says she came upon you examining a letter -of hers, holding it up to the light. And three -days ago she found you in her room looking over -the papers in her desk.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he made a gesture of angry contempt. -“It would make a person sick—examining her letters! -I was looking through the mail bag to see -if there was anything for me. If I took up one of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>hers by mistake does that prove I was examining -it?”</p> - -<p>“How about the other thing?”</p> - -<p>“Being in her room? Yes, I was there. I went -in to get a stamp. I had an important letter to -go when Gabriel took over the mail and it was -time for him. All the rest of you were out. Her -room was next to mine and I went in. I never -thought anything about it, no more than I would -have thought about going into Anne’s or yours -or anybody else’s. She’s nutty, I tell you. You -can’t trust her word. And if she says I’m hired -to spy on her she’s a damned——”</p> - -<p>He stopped. Basset’s eye was steady on him -in a cold command he knew. There was the same -cold quality in the director’s voice:</p> - -<p>“If the position Sybil’s in has made her suspicious, -that’s all right. I’d like to believe it was -the case. But if any of us—supposedly her -friends—had inserted themselves in here to carry -on police surveillance, using <i>me</i> to get them in—well, -I’d not think <i>that</i> all right.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span></p> -<p>Joe leaned over the banister. His control was -shaken, his voice hoarsely urgent:</p> - -<p>“You got to be fair, Bassett, and because -you’re sorry for her is no reason to set her word -over mine. It’s <i>not</i> true. Don’t you believe me?”</p> - -<p>Bassett did not answer for a moment. He -wanted to believe and he doubted; he thought of -Joe’s desire to come, of the reward:</p> - -<p>“I guess you know, Joe, you can trust me to -be fair, but I’m not going to commit myself till I -know. It won’t be hard to do that. I can find -out when I get back to New York. And take this -from me—if what Sybil says is true I’m done with -you. No more help from me, no more work in any -company I manage. And I fancy the whole theatrical -profession will feel the same way.” He -drew back from the stair-foot. The disagreeable -interview was over. “There’s no good talking any -more about it. Accusations and denials don’t get -us anywhere. We’ll let it rest till I’ve made my -inquiries. I’ll say good-by now and hope you’ll -have a good time in the woods.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p> - -<p>He turned and walked up the hall to his room -on the garden front next the Stokes’. Joe gathered -his luggage and went the opposite way, down -the hall and into the big central apartment. He -stepped with gingerly softness as if he were creeping -away from something he feared might follow -him. At the entrance door he set down his luggage -and as he bent over it a whispered stream of -curses flowed from his lips. He cursed Bassett -and his luck, but Sybil with a savage variety of -epithet and choice of misfortune, for she had undone -him. Straightening up he looked blankly -about—his inner turmoil was such he hardly knew -where he was—and he retraced his steps, seeking -the seclusion of his room, went up the stairs in -noiseless vaulting strides like a frightened spider -climbing to its web.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> had taken off her costume and slipped -into a negligée to do her packing comfortably, and -then decided she had better bid good-by to Joe -first. Bidding good-by was not an obligation between -them, but she had to get the key of his -trunk—it was going back to New York with -hers—and her heart in its new warmth yearned to -him, her only relation. She wanted to tell him -her great secret, see an answering joy leap into -his face, for he thought more of Bassett than anybody, -and he’d be so surprised to hear that Anne, -her charms held at a low valuation, had won such -a prize.</p> - -<p>Her room was the first on the left side of the -gallery, Joe’s next to Sybil’s on the land front of -the house. She passed the long line of closed -doors, voices coming from behind Mrs. Cornell’s, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>and reaching Joe’s, knocked. A “Come in,” uninvitingly -loud and harsh, answered her and she -entered. Joe was sitting in a low armchair, bent -forward, his hands holding a cane with which he -was tapping on the floor. The bright square of -the window was behind him, framing rosy sky and -the green shore-line. He looked up to see who it -was; then, without greeting or comment, drooped -his head and went on lightly striking the cane on -the carpet as if he were hammering in a nail and -it required all his attention. Anne felt dashed, -his manner might have been the same to an intruding -stranger. She asked about the key, and he -nodded to the bureau where it lay. The trunk -was packed and locked? To that he gave an assenting -grunt, then raised his head and looked at -her—what have you come here for, the look said.</p> - -<p>It was not a reception to encourage confidences -and she stood uncomfortably regarding him, trying -to find something to say that would dispel -his somber ill humor.</p> - -<p>“You’re all ready? Where’s your luggage?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span></p> - -<p>“Down by the door. Is there anything else you -want to know?”</p> - -<p>“<i>I</i> don’t want to know, I was thinking of you. -You’re always late, and it’s different here with -only one way to get ashore and Gabriel never -willing to wait.”</p> - -<p>He made no answer, continuing his play with -the cane. She knew that something was wrong -and sat down on the arm of a chair, uneasy, wondering -what it was:</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you’ve managed this holiday. And -it’s so jolly having Jimmy Travers, he’s such a -sport. You’ll meet him to-night at Bangor. At -the Algonquin Inn—wasn’t that the name of it?”</p> - -<p>“Um.”</p> - -<p>“I want to be sure because if any important -mail should come for you I could send it there to -meet you on your way back. Algonquin Inn—I’ll -remember that. Then off to-morrow morning—it’ll -be lovely in the woods now.”</p> - -<p>“Any place would be lovely after this beastly -hole.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>“Beastly hole! I thought you liked it!”</p> - -<p>“Did you? Take another guess.”</p> - -<p>“You expected to like it. You wanted to -come.”</p> - -<p>He made no answer, but slanting his body sidewise -with an air of ostentatious endurance, took -out his watch and looked at it. She ignored the -hint—you couldn’t be sensitive with Joe—and -leaning toward him asked:</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, Joe?”</p> - -<p>“Matter—with what?”</p> - -<p>“You! Has anything happened?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, nothing’s happened.” His words were -mincingly soft. “What <i>could</i> happen with such a -charming lot of people and Miss Saunders playing -the star rôle in the performance and out.”</p> - -<p>It was Sybil then—he’d been working himself -into a bad temper over her treatment of him. -Anne had thought it odd he had not mentioned it -before:</p> - -<p>“You’re angry with Sybil, and I don’t think -she has been very nice to you. I’ve noticed it, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>especially the last three days and this afternoon -when we were sitting out there on the rock I tried -to make her tell me why.”</p> - -<p>He raised his head; the profile sharply defined -against the window showed a working muscle in -the cheek: “And did she tell you?”</p> - -<p>“No, she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. -She changed the subject.”</p> - -<p>“How considerate!”</p> - -<p>“There’s no sense getting annoyed about it because -I don’t think she has any reason. You have -to make excuses for her. She’s gone through this -awful experience and her nerves are all wracked -to pieces. You have to be patient and take her -as a sort of afflicted person—”</p> - -<p>He dashed the cane down and jumped to his -feet in a volcanic explosion of rage:</p> - -<p>“I don’t take her that way. I take her for -what she is, a damned lying hypocrite.”</p> - -<p>“Joe!” She was amazed, not so much at the -words, as at the suddenness of the outburst and -the contorted passion of his face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p> - -<p>“She thinks she can treat me any way she wants -and get away with it. Well, she’ll find her mistake, -she’s taken the wrong turning this time. -She takes me for a yellow dog she can kick whenever -she feels like it. But I got teeth, I can bite. -Patient—be patient—God, I’d like to wring her -neck, the damned——.”</p> - -<p>He used an epithet that brought Anne to her -feet, breathing battle: “Don’t dare to say that -of my friend, Joe Tracy.”</p> - -<p>He stood in front of her, hump-shouldered, with -outthrust jaw, brows drawn low over eyes gleaming -like a cat’s. She had never seen him look like -that; he seemed a stranger, a horrible stranger, -and she drew away, aghast at the revelation of a -being so sinisterly unfamiliar. Her look brought -him back to self-control. He jerked his head up, -ran a hand over his hair, and turned away to the -window. Standing there he said:</p> - -<p>“Well, I take that back. I didn’t mean to say -it. But she’s made me mad; I think she’d make -anybody.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span></p> - -<p>The tone, surly still, had a placating quality; -it was as near an apology as Joe could ever come. -She felt immeasurably relieved for he had frightened -her. To see the family cat, whose vagaries -of temperament she knew by heart, suddenly -transformed into a tiger, had given her a shock. -She accepted his amends without comment, but -she could not resist a sisterly admonition:</p> - -<p>“If you’d only stop getting mad over small -things you’d find life so much easier.”</p> - -<p>He laughed:</p> - -<p>“Good advice from little sister! It doesn’t cost -anything and it’s the correct <i>ingenue</i> pose.”</p> - -<p>He turned from the window smiling, Joe at his -most amiable. If he had met her this way she -would have poured out her secret. But her high -mood had fallen and besides he wanted her to go—he -said he had a letter to write yet. Lounging -toward her he put his hands on her shoulders, -gave her a light kiss on the cheek and pushed her -toward the door.</p> - -<p>On her way back along the gallery she recalled -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>his face in that moment of rage with troubled -question. She wondered if there was more disturbing -him than she knew—it was an extraordinary -exhibition of anger for such a cause. Also -she had not felt sure that his change of mood was -genuine, his laugh had rung false, and when he -had laid his hands on her shoulders she had felt -their coldness through the thin stuff of her negligée. -She heaved a sigh of relief at the thought -that he was going. In his present mood there was -no knowing what clashes there might be, and it -was the last evening, and there would be a full -moon, and she and Bassett would walk like lovers -under its magic light.</p> - -<p>When her door had closed, the gallery and living-room -became as quiet as though the house -were unoccupied. Sybil, approaching it, heard no -sound of voices, a fact that reassured her, for the -long day had tired her and she had no mind for -talk. She was coming in by the balcony when she -saw Flora Stokes sitting there reading and deflected -her course toward the path that skirted -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>the building’s front. If Flora noticed her she -made no sign, her eyes glued to her book, and -Sybil, stepping softly, for she dreaded the woman’s -resentful glances, passed along to the entrance -of the living-room. The place was deserted -and she stopped on the threshold for a last -look at the sky’s fading splendors.</p> - -<p>Across the depths of the room the door into the -hall opened, but so gently that she did not hear it. -Stokes made this noiseless entrance in the hope -that she might be there, and now, seeing his hope -fulfilled, closed the door as carefully, standing -against it watching her.</p> - -<p>If the conventional garb of the street was not -as becoming to his darkly Byronic style as the -trappings of the Duke, he was still unusually -handsome. A figure of distinction in its lean -grace, with proud hawk features and the deep-set -melancholy eyes that the matinée girl loves. Even -his pallor had charm in their opinion, adding to -his romantic suggestion. Gull Island sun and -breezes had left no trace upon it; his face against -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>the background of the door was a yellowish -white.</p> - -<p>Seeing that she did not turn he pronounced her -name. At that she wheeled, lightning-quick, and -came forward from beneath the deep jut of the -gallery assuming as unconcerned a manner as she -could.</p> - -<p>“Lovely evening,” she said as she advanced. -“It’s been hard to come in.”</p> - -<p>“Evidently from the length of time you stayed -out there. I’ve been waiting for you.”</p> - -<p>It was not a propitious beginning, especially -as he still stood against the door as if intending -to bar her exit.</p> - -<p>“I’m going up-stairs to dress now.”</p> - -<p>“There’s plenty of time. You can give me a few -minutes. I’ve something I want to say to you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Aleck!” She stopped with an air of -weary expostulation. “<i>Don’t</i> say anything more. -<i>Don’t</i> begin that dreadful subject. I’m sick of it, -I loathe it and <i>can’t</i> you see it isn’t any use?”</p> - -<p>He went on as if he hadn’t heard her:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></p> - -<p>“I’ve been trying for days, ever since I came -here. And you keep avoiding me, always having -some one with you. Now we’ll be going to-morrow, -we may not have another chance, and I must -see you and tell you”—he stopped and looked at -the gallery. “Did I hear a step up there?”</p> - -<p>She had heard nothing and thought it odd that -he should be so suddenly cautious. Discretion -had been the last quality he had heretofore shown.</p> - -<p>“I <i>have</i> avoided you and I’m going to continue -doing it. Please move away from the door. It’s -silly to stand in front of it for I can go round by -the garden, but I’m tired and I don’t want to.”</p> - -<p>He came forward, speaking as he advanced.</p> - -<p>“This isn’t what you think. I’m done with that. -You’ve made me understand, you’ve got it across, -Sybil. I’m not going to bother you any more -with that subject you loathe and think so dreadful. -But I can’t help loving you and wanting to -help you.” She gave an exasperated gesture and -made a move to pass him. As she did so, he said: -“I’ve heard something of Jim Dallas.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p> - -<p>She stopped as if all animating force had been -stricken out of her, a “What?” expelled on a -caught breath.</p> - -<p>“Just before I left town I met an actor who -says he saw him.”</p> - -<p>“Are you telling me the truth?”</p> - -<p>“Why should I lie? What do I gain by it? I -swore the fellow to secrecy and came up here to -tell you and I’ve been trying——”</p> - -<p>She broke in: “Was he sure? Where was it?”</p> - -<p>The change in her manner would have crushed -the hope in any man. Shunning him like a leper, -she now drew close and laid her hand on his arm.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you here. It’s too dangerous, too -many people coming and going.”</p> - -<p>“It <i>was</i> Jim?”</p> - -<p>“It <i>was</i>. It’s quite a story, more than just seeing -him. But we’ve got to get somewhere away -from all these damned doors——”</p> - -<p>One of them opened—that into the hall behind -them. They heard it and wheeled round, faces -sharp-set in defensive interrogation. It was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>Flora Stokes. She rested on the threshold looking -at them, and Stokes, his senses more alert -than the girl’s, withdrew his arm from her clasp.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Flora,” he said, his voice supremely light -and easy. “Were you looking for me?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Stokes said no, she had come to put her -book back. She walked slowly to a table and -placed her book on the corner. The room was -very still as she did this. Stokes, his hands deep -in his pockets, moved his head, following her progress -as if it roused his curiosity. The girl stood -without a sound, the scene passing under her eyes -with a mirage-like unreality.</p> - -<p>“It seems I’ve intruded,” said Mrs. Stokes, each -syllable meticulously clear and precise. “But if -you want to be alone I should think you’d have -chosen another place.”</p> - -<p>“Having chosen this is a pretty good proof we -didn’t want to be alone,” retorted her husband.</p> - -<p>She gave a light jeering sound of disbelief and -walked to the entrance. On the sill she turned -and looked at them with smoldering eyes:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p> - -<p>“Don’t be afraid I’ll stay. I’m going for a walk -on the front of the island. That’s as far away as -I can get; I’d go farther if I could.”</p> - -<p>She passed out of the door and Stokes turned -to the girl:</p> - -<p>“There—that’s what I was afraid of. Some of -the rest of them may come in at any minute. -We’ve got to get out of here, some place outside.”</p> - -<p>“The Point—the summer-house. I’ll go down -there now—you follow me.”</p> - -<p>She ran to the entrance, he at her heels. Walking -leisurely up the path to the summer-house -was Shine. She threw out her hands with a distracted -gesture and struck a foot on the floor in -a frantic stamp. Stokes smothered an oath. -“Tell me here,” she implored, but he answered -with an imperative shake of the head.</p> - -<p>“The garden.” She was half-way across the -room before he caught her up, and this time it -was he who laid his hand on her arm:</p> - -<p>“Sybil, have some sense. You’ll get us in wrong -every way. You don’t want any of these people -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>to see us out there whispering together. That’s -just the place they’ll go while they’re waiting -round for supper. Listen now, get a hold on yourself. -Jim’s safety is more important than your -anxiety. That photographer chap’s just strolling -round killing time; he’ll move on from there -presently. Go up to your room and wait. You -can see the Point from your window. If he’s gone -by seven, come down and go along to the summer-house. -I’ll watch too and I’ll meet you there.”</p> - -<p>She opened her lips for a last protest, then evidently -seeing there was nothing else for it, gave -out a groaning “All right” and left the room. He -followed her, saw her mount the stairs, and walked -out on the balcony. It was exquisitely still, the -colors paling, the pines black and motionless as if -painted on the orange sky. He could see the figure -of his wife moving slowly toward the ocean -bluffs. A newspaper lay on a table near him and -he took it up, slumping down in his chair as one -who relinquishes himself to a regained interest, -but he did not read.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Anne</span> packed for a space, then gave it up. She -couldn’t go on with it, she wanted to be down-stairs, -not lose one minute of the last evening at -Gull Island. Her spirits, oppressed by Joe’s behavior, -began to bubble again, foam up in sparkling -effervescence. You couldn’t pack clothes in -a trunk when you felt like dancing and the hour -was too beautiful for belief and your lover might -be waiting for you in the garden. She slipped off -her negligée and chose her most becoming dress, -leaf-green crêpe that made her look slim as a reed -and turned her skin to ivory. She smoothed the -black satin of her hair and hung round her neck -the chain of green beads she had bought for a -dollar but you’d never guess it. And she figured -in front of the glass, studying her reflection this -way and that, trying to see herself with new eyes -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>and judge if she was a girl a man might be proud -of.</p> - -<p>While thus engaged she heard the chug-chug of -the launch. It must be Joe going, and anxious to -see the departure of that darkling and uncomfortable -spirit she went to the window. It looked -out across the slant of roofs that covered the -kitchen wing and commanded a side-view of the -channel. Across the swift-sweeping current the -boat came into view, skimming forward like a -home-faring bird. Anne leaned over the sill, following -it with startled eyes—where was Joe? -There was Gabriel in front at the wheel, but in the -back—she stretched her neck trying to see to the -bottom of the cock-pit, there certainly was no one -on the seat.</p> - -<p>“Oh, <i>could</i> he have missed it?” she groaned and -cast up her eyes as if invoking the protection of -Heaven against such a calamity.</p> - -<p>But he couldn’t have, he wanted to go, it was -his holiday and he thought Gull Island was a -beastly hole. He must have been where she -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>couldn’t see him. It was difficult to think where -this might be—but he <i>might</i> have been bending -down to put something in his suit-case. A chair -could have hidden him. She remembered what he -had said about leaving his baggage at the living-room -entrance. If it was still there then he had -missed the boat and she ran down-stairs, hoping -with a prayerful earnestness that she would not -find it. It was not there. “Then he <i>is</i> gone,” she -said to herself with a satisfied nod and drew a -freer breath. The weight lifted, she went across -to the garden where she might find Bassett, and -as she covered the space between the doors the -picture of the launch rose on her inner vision with -Gabriel the only visible occupant.</p> - -<p>Bassett was not in the garden, but Shine was, -sauntering into view from the balcony end. He’d -been loafing about he said, just come up from the -Point. He’d been all round it, wonderful down -there now and going to be more wonderful, and he -pointed to a pale glow on the horizon where the -moon was rising. They strolled about on the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>lanes of turf between the massed colors of parterre -and border, the air languishingly sweet with -the scent of the closing flowers. Then they went -in, luxuriously embedding themselves in two vast -armchairs. Bassett found them here and tried to -look genial at the sight of Shine. He’d been writing -some letters in his own room and he dropped -into a third armchair with the sigh of well-earned -rest.</p> - -<p>They talked about the moon and moonlight -effects. Shine wanted to take some photographs -after supper, get the pines against the sea and -the silvered bulk of the Point, and he spoke of his -flashlight picture which they’d have as a remembrance -of Gull Island. Anne said that was a jolly -idea, but she didn’t think they’d need a picture to -remind them of their stay, and she and Bassett -exchanged a smile.</p> - -<p>It was still on their lips when a sound came -from outside, a single sharp detonation. It fell -upon the evening’s tranquil hush, sudden and -startling, like something alien and unrelated.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p> - -<p>“What was that?” said Anne.</p> - -<p>“Sounds like a shot,” Shine thought.</p> - -<p>“It couldn’t be!” Bassett got up. “Nobody -has a pistol here and if he had he couldn’t use it—one -of the special stipulations Driscoll made -when he lent us the place.”</p> - -<p>He moved to the land entrance and looked out.</p> - -<p>“What could it have been?” Anne looked -questioningly at Shine, who, having no other suggestion -to offer, shrugged and shook his head.</p> - -<p>The door of Mrs. Cornell’s room opened on the -gallery and Miss Pinkney emerged, Mrs. Cornell -behind her.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Bassett,” she cried, a hand on the railing. -“Where’s Mr. Bassett?”</p> - -<p>Bassett drew out from under the gallery and -looked up at her:</p> - -<p>“Did you hear that?”</p> - -<p>“I did and I told you that Mr. Driscoll never -allowed any shooting on the premises.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think that was a shot?”</p> - -<p>“Well, what else was it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell, leaning comfortably on the railing, -suggested that it might be an auto tire.</p> - -<p>This drew a snort from Miss Pinkney:</p> - -<p>“How’d a motor get here—swim or fly?” Then -to Bassett: “Mr. Driscoll’s very strict about -that. He won’t have the wild game or the gulls -disturbed and——”</p> - -<p>Bassett interrupted her:</p> - -<p>“That’s all right, Miss Pinkney. We were -given those orders and we’ve obeyed them. And -none of us could shoot here if he wanted to—there’s -not a pistol in the outfit. Don’t you know -it’s against the law to carry one?”</p> - -<p>“Then some one’s taken mine,” she exclaimed, -and straightening up with an air of battle, “I’m -coming down.”</p> - -<p>She left the gallery for the rear stairs, Mrs. -Cornell in her wake.</p> - -<p>“What does she mean—hers?” Anne asked.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what she means,” Bassett looked -irritated. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see what there was to shoot at anyhow,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span> -came from Shine. “Looked to me when I -was out there as if all the gulls had gone to bed.”</p> - -<p>Miss Pinkney, entering, focussed their attention.</p> - -<p>“What’s this about a pistol of yours?” Bassett -asked.</p> - -<p>She answered as she walked across the room to -a desk under the gallery:</p> - -<p>“It’s the one Mr. Driscoll gave me, thinking it -might be useful when I was here alone, opening or -closing the house. I was to keep it loaded and -have it handy, but I’d trust my tongue to get rid -of any man and here it’s lain with the poker -chips.” She pulled out a side-drawer of the desk. -“There!” she exclaimed, turning on them in -gloomy triumph, “What did I tell you! It’s -gone.”</p> - -<p>Bassett looked into the drawer:</p> - -<p>“You’re sure it was here?”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t I see it this morning when I put away -the counters you were playing with last night?”</p> - -<p>“Umph!” Bassett banged the drawer shut in -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>anger. “I’ll see that this is explained to Mr. -Driscoll. And whoever’s taken it, they’ll get -what’s coming to them. A damned fool performance! -To get us in wrong just as we were -leaving——”</p> - -<p>The hall door opened and Stokes entered.</p> - -<p>“Who’s shooting round here?” he said. “I -thought it was taboo.”</p> - -<p>“That’s just what we want to know. Where -were you?”</p> - -<p>“Sitting out on the balcony.”</p> - -<p>“See anybody?”</p> - -<p>“No. I’ve been looking about. I went down -the path to the pine grove and round the house -but I didn’t see a soul.”</p> - -<p>“Why, who could it be?” said Anne. “Aren’t -we all”—she looked over the standing figures—“No, -we’re not all here. Who’s outside?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Stokes is.” Shine spoke up. “I saw her -walking along the ocean bluffs as I came up from -the Point.”</p> - -<p>“Sybil is, too,” Mrs. Cornell added. “She went -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>out just a few minutes ago. I saw her from my -window.”</p> - -<p>“It can’t be either of them.” Bassett’s vexation -had given place to a sudden uneasiness. “I -don’t understand. Nobody could have come over -from the mainland with the tide up. I’ll go out -there——”</p> - -<p>A sound from outside stopped him. It was a -cry in a woman’s voice, close by.</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” some one said, and before an -answer could come, the cry rose again—a high -wailing scream carrying words:</p> - -<p>“Sybil! Sybil! Sybil’s dead—Sybil’s killed!”</p> - -<p>A clamorous mingling of voices rose from the -group, combined in a single up-swelling note of -horror. The men rushed for the entrance and met -Flora Stokes. She burst in between them, white -as the ghost of Cæsar, with her opened mouth a -dark cavity.</p> - -<p>“Sybil’s murdered—dead—shot.” Each word -was projected in a screaming gasp.</p> - -<p>Bassett shouted at her, “Where?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p> -<p>And she waved an arm toward the channel.</p> - -<p>“There—from the Point. She’s gone—she’s -dead! She went over into the water. On the top -of the cliff. She’s murdered—dead—murdered!”</p> - -<p>As if she were dead, too, and of no more consequence, -they fled past her—a line of people -streaming out into the serene evening that held a -hideous catastrophe. Only Anne stayed, her face -as if overlaid by a coating of white paint. She -went to Flora and seized her by the arm.</p> - -<p>“Who was it?” she whispered. “Who did it?”</p> - -<p>The woman looked at her at first as if not -knowing who she was. Then jerking her arm free, -clasped her hands against the sides of her head -and went across the room staring upward and -crying out:</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. I didn’t see—— It’s God’s -truth, I don’t know.”</p> - -<p>Anne ran out after the others.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> moon had risen and hung on the edge of -the sky like a great disk of white paper. Anne -saw the others running this way and that along -the edge of the Point. A boat was pushing out -from the dock, Stokes in it, and, caught by the -current, it shot down the gleaming surface of the -channel. There were cries in men’s voices and -Stokes’ answer, bell-clear from the water. Then -Shine ran by her, back to the house, grim-visaged -with staring eyes. The scene had the fantastic -quality of a nightmare, the solemn splendors of -the setting and the gesticulating, shouting figures -darting about like grotesque silhouettes.</p> - -<p>She ran on through the pine wood up the path -beyond. Mrs. Cornell met her, tried to speak with -chattering teeth, but ended in a scream and fell -upon her shoulder. Over her head Anne saw Bassett<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span> -flying down the slope to the wharf. Then -presently boats moving out from Hayworth. -They came with incredible speed, sliding forward -in a group that spread and broke into units scattering -across the channel. Here they sped back -and forth, up and down, swift black shapes that -seemed to be executing some complicated maneuvers -along the glittering track of moonlight. She -was aware of Bassett’s figure leaving the wharf -and racing to the house, of Shine thudding by and -calling:</p> - -<p>“They’re here already! I got some one on the -wire and I told him to go like hell.”</p> - -<p>Miss Pinkney’s voice answered him from the -edge of the Point where she stood like a black -basalt statue:</p> - -<p>“Oh, they’re here, all right. Every feller that -has a boat’s out. But it’s no use; no one who’s -ever got caught in <i>that</i> current’s been found.”</p> - -<p>Shine muttered an invocation and came to a -stop. They all stood speechless staring at the -boats—the boats looking for Sybil who half an -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>hour ago was alive like themselves and now was—where?</p> - -<p>As soon as he saw the fleet in operation, Bassett -ran to the house. He had to find Flora and -get fuller information from her before he called -up the police, and not seeing her outside, he supposed -she was still there. The great room was -almost dark. He felt for one of the standard -lamps and pulled the string. The gush of light -fell directly over her, close to him, sunk in an armchair, -as still as if she, too, had ceased to live. -He had expected difficulties in getting a coherent -statement from her, but she told him what she had -seen, briefly and clearly, as if she had known he -was coming and was ready for him.</p> - -<p>She had skirted the island and come to that -part of the path which faced the Point. A hollow -intervened, extending to the water’s edge in a mass -of shelving rock. Across this hollow she saw -Sybil appear on the end of the Point, coming up -from the opposite side, and almost immediately -heard the shot. Sybil had thrown up her arms, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>staggered forward and gone over the bluff. It all -happened in a flash and Flora, though describing -herself as dazed, had run down the path into the -hollow and out on the rocks thinking she could -catch her. But she saw the body go swirling by—far -out of her reach, caught and borne along in -the current. She had watched it, stunned, then -had come to her senses and staggered back to the -shore—she thought she had fallen more than -once—and ran to the house. On the way there -she had seen no one and heard nothing.</p> - -<p>Bassett left her and went to the library to call -up Forestville, the county seat. He knew the -place well—a small town on the edge of northern -solitudes. It was the starting point for hunting -parties to New Brunswick, and Bassett, a sportsman -in his leisure hours, had stayed there several -times assembling his guides and gear. On his last -trip, two years ago, trouble with a guide had -brought him in contact with the sheriff, Abel -Williams. Over legal wrangling they had struck -up a friendship and he remembered Williams as -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>a man of some capacity, straight and fair-minded. -If he was still in office it would simplify matters; -to start out with confidence in the director would -be a vital gain. He waited, the receiver against -his ear, a foot drumming on the carpet, then a -deep and growling voice hummed along the wire. -It was Abel Williams.</p> - -<p>Williams would be down as soon as he could, -with Mr. Rawson, the district-attorney—an hour -and a half to two hours, the roads being bad. -The shore people had been told it was an accident—that’s -all right, couldn’t hold an inquest -anyway without a body and it was a good thing -to keep ’em off. Better not let anything come out -till they’d got the situation in hand, easy to fix -at that end as the United American Press man -was off fishing. They’d do a good deal better if -the press was held off for a spell. The place was -small, they’d clutter it up, tramp out foot-prints, -get in the way searching for clues. Seeing where -the island was and that there was no one on it but -their own crowd, it would be possible to keep -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>things out of the public eye till they had the work -well started.</p> - -<p>Bassett looked at his watch—nearly eight—probably -two hours to wait. The best thing he -could do was to get them together and keep them -as quiet as he could. As he went down the path -his mind collected and marshalled in order the -facts he would have to present. They had all -been in the house except Stokes on the balcony -and Flora walking round the island. Stokes -eaten into by a hopeless love, Flora on fire with -jealousy and hate—passions that make for murder. -“God, what’s going to be the end of this?” -he groaned to himself.</p> - -<p>He found them in a group near the pine grove, -excitedly conferring together. They had been -back and forth to the house and the wharf, some -aimlessly running about, others trying to do -something intelligent and helpful. Stokes had -just returned with the electric torch and they -were preparing to search the ground for foot-prints. -Bassett brought their activities to an end -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>and shepherded them to the house. With dragging -feet and lowered heads they trailed up the -path and filed into the living-room.</p> - -<p>Here, under the radiance of the lights, they -looked at one another as if expecting to see -startling changes and fell groaning into chairs, or -sat, stiff and upright, with rigid muscles. The -effect of the shock showed in Mrs. Cornell, Stokes -and Shine, in a sudden outburst of loquacity. -They went over and over it, what they were saying, -where they were, what had entered their -minds when they heard the shot. “And I thought -to myself,” sentence after sentence started that -way. Then the feverish talk began to die. Bassett -had told them when the authorities might be -expected and as the hour drew near, dread of the -drama in which they found themselves stilled -their tongues. The sea breeze, freighted with the -acrid odors of uncovered mud and seaweed, blew -through the room. Bassett rose and closed the -garden door, and eyes shifted to him, hung on his -hand as it slid the bolt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span></p> - -<p>“What are you shutting the door for?” Mrs. -Cornell quavered.</p> - -<p>“I thought there was too much draught.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what does that matter,” she wailed, “with -Sybil killed and floating out to sea?”</p> - -<p>She broke into loud hiccoughing sobs. Stokes -shifted in his chair and snarled out:</p> - -<p>“Can’t you stop making that noise?”</p> - -<p>Bassett crossed to where Anne was sitting by -the entrance. She had her back to the room and -was looking out at the lights of Hayworth dotting -the shore. He stood behind her chair and -put his hand on her shoulder. Her fingers stole -up and rested on his, icy cold. He bent till his -head was close to hers and whispered:</p> - -<p>“Bear up. Thank God this can’t touch you in -any way.”</p> - -<p>Her fingers pressed an answer but she said -nothing.</p> - -<p>Shine came toward them: “Those fellers were -lucky who got off this afternoon. I might have -gone with them if I’d had the sense.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span></p> - -<p>Anne answered this time:</p> - -<p>“Yes, they were more fortunate than we are.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell, her sobs under control, spoke up:</p> - -<p>“But even if we <i>were</i> here they can’t suspect us. -We’ve got alibis, we’re all accounted for. We -were all in——”</p> - -<p>She realized where she was going and stopped. -There was a portentous silence. Shine almost -shouted, pointing out at the channel:</p> - -<p>“The tide’s falling fast. They can’t get into -the dock here. How will they make a landing?”</p> - -<p>Bassett answered:</p> - -<p>“In a cove at the upper end of the island. -They’ve a dock there for low water. They have -to make a detour, that’s all.”</p> - -<p>Flora, who had been sitting with her hand over -her eyes, dropped it and sat erect. Her breath -came from her in a loud exhalation that was almost -a groan. Every pair of eyes shifted to her, -watchful, questioning, apprehensive.</p> - -<p>“Do you feel ill, Flora?” said Bassett, moving -to her side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span></p> - -<p>“No—no,” she looked wildly about. “But this -waiting—it’s so awful.”</p> - -<p>Miss Pinkney suggested a glass of water, but -Flora waved a hand as if pushing it away. Stokes -rose and moved to a seat beside her.</p> - -<p>“They’ll be here soon now.”</p> - -<p>She sank back and closed her eyes. Her husband -bent a somber, sidewise look toward her, -then laid his hand on one of hers. Her own -turned and the thin fingers twined like clinging -roots about his.</p> - -<p>“It won’t be hard,” he reassured. “Just give -them a clear account of what you saw.”</p> - -<p>She waved the other hand in front of her face, -like a person in unendurable pain, who makes a -vague distracted gesture for silence.</p> - -<p>Anne spoke from the door:</p> - -<p>“There’s a light moving out from the shore.”</p> - -<p>The statement shook them. There was a simultaneous -stir of feet and bodies, a heave of labored breaths.</p> - -<p>Bassett went to the entrance:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes—that’s a launch. They’re coming. I -must go to meet them.”</p> - -<p>He looked over the company, the haggard -faces all turned toward him. Some of them wore -an expression of yearning appeal as if he was -their only source of strength in this devastating -hour:</p> - -<p>“Now remember there’s nothing to get scared -or rattled about. They’ll ask you questions and -what you must do is to answer them accurately—not -what you think or imagine but what you -<i>know</i>. Keep that in the front of your minds. The -clearer you are in your statements the quicker -you’ll get through. And please stay here, just as -you are. They’ll probably want to see you right -off.”</p> - -<p>A benumbed silence followed his departure. -Anne moved from the door to a chair nearer the -others. Stokes withdrew his hand from Flora’s -and straightened himself, jerking down his waistcoat -and craning his neck up from his collar. The -low rippling murmurs of the receding tide were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span>singularly distinct. Suddenly the shrill whistle -of a launch pierced the night outside. Mrs. Cornell -leaped as if the sound had been a weapon that -had stabbed her:</p> - -<p>“Oh!” she cried, “why do they do that? Isn’t -Sybil being murdered enough to stand!”</p> - -<p>“For Christ’s sake, keep your mouth shut,” -Stokes flung at her, glaring.</p> - -<p>The savage quality in his voice penetrated Mrs. -Cornell’s encasing terrors. She shrunk and slid -the look of a frightened animal at Shine. Then -the silence settled and they sat like those who have -looked upon the head of Medusa.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bassett</span> on the wharf in the cove watched the -launch approaching over the glistening floor of -water. As it grated against the boards he heard -his name in a deep-throated bass voice and the big -body of the sheriff climbed over the side. A -rough padded hand grasped his, and “Well, Mr. -Bassett, the law’s got us together again,” was -growled into his ear.</p> - -<p>Two more figures followed him. One was Rawson, -the district-attorney, whom the vivid light -revealed as a man much younger than Williams, -tall and narrow-shouldered, with a lean New England -visage and a pair of horn spectacles astride -a high-bridged nose. The other was disposed of -with a casual hand-wave and a murmur of “Patrick,” -brought, it was explained, to take charge -of the causeway. Rawson, it appeared, knew Gull -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>Island well, having been there several times on -legal business for Mr. Driscoll.</p> - -<p>As they walked back Bassett told his story. -He noticed that the younger man’s questions were -sharp and to the point and before they had gone -half-way realized that Rawson was of a much -higher grade of education and intelligence than -his coadjutor. A smart chap, he thought, and -felt his burden lightened—they could do good -teamwork. Stopping by the edge of the pine -wood he pointed out the scene of the shooting and -was again struck by the man’s quick comprehension.</p> - -<p>Moving on, Williams observed with grim relish:</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t have a murder committed in a -better place than this—better for us. Once -you’re on here it’s a damned hard business getting -off. These folks are as good as in prison. Now, -Mr. Bassett, just where does that causeway lie?”</p> - -<p>The channel stretched before them, a shining -expanse, ripple-creased, summits of rock emerging. -The receding water was like a silver veil -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>being slowly withdrawn, its delicate tissue torn by -sharp-edged projections. Bassett pointed beyond -the wharf:</p> - -<p>“There! Below the water there are steps cut -in the rock that lead down to it. It goes straight -across to a breakwater and landing outside the -village, a bank and a belt of trees above. The -whole stretch won’t be clear till nearly midnight.”</p> - -<p>Williams gave his instructions to the man Patrick—a -watch on the causeway, any one stopped -who came from the mainland or attempted to -leave the island. Patrick, a silent massive countryman, -with a stolid bull-dog face, thrust out his -chin and nodded. He slouched off, the sound of -his heavy boots loud on the rocks. The others -turned toward the house, the light from its -opened door falling outward in a long golden -square.</p> - -<p>The occupants of the room heard them and -looked at one another. Mrs. Cornell, with -clenched hands, slowly stood up, and the rest, like -people in church who see a figure rise and simultaneously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span> -follow its example, got to their feet. -They stood by their chairs, motionless, all facing -the same way. It was like an ensemble scene in a -theater.</p> - -<p>The three men entered and under the shadow of -the gallery paused for a moment surveying the -standing figures much as they might have looked -at some spectacle arranged for their approval. -William was surprised at their number and their -line ranged like a battle front. Rawson’s sharp -eye ran over the faces, mentally ticketing them, -and Bassett, with no precedent to guide him, -walked toward his associates and announced:</p> - -<p>“Ladies and gentlemen, the authorities have -come. Mr. Rawson and Mr. Williams.”</p> - -<p>They bowed and then not knowing what to do -next, subsided into their seats. The men came -forward, moving to the long table where Williams -sat down, fumbling in his pocket for a fountain -pen and paper and clearing a space for the taking -of notes. Rawson, surveying the seated assemblage, -said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p> - -<p>“This is the whole of your company, Mr. Bassett?”</p> - -<p>“All who were here at the time of the murder. -Several of the actors and assistants left at five-thirty -and Joe Tracy, one of the company at a -quarter to seven.”</p> - -<p>“You saw them go?”</p> - -<p>“I saw the first lot go. I didn’t see Tracy. -But,” he looked at Anne, “this is his sister, Miss -Tracy. She probably did.”</p> - -<p>“Did you, Miss Tracy?” said Rawson.</p> - -<p>Her voice was very low but steady and clear:</p> - -<p>“Yes, he went.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that disposes of them,” said Rawson, -and drawing up a chair, sat down facing the line -of solemn people.</p> - -<p>There were a few formalities to go through. A -general agreement on the time of the murder—a -few minutes before seven disposed of that, and -the interrogation of Mrs. Stokes, the one eyewitness, -followed.</p> - -<p>She began well, telling the story she had told -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span>Bassett. When she described her first view of -Sybil running to the edge of the Point, Rawson -interrupted with a question:</p> - -<p>“Was she running fast, as if some one was -after her, as if she was frightened?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, she was running fast but I don’t know -whether she was frightened. I wasn’t close -enough to see anything like that, and I didn’t -have time to see. Just as I was looking at her -the shot came.”</p> - -<p>“Did you notice the direction it came from?”</p> - -<p>“No—it was like a sort of loud snap in the air. -I heard it and she staggered along a few steps -and went over.”</p> - -<p>“Did you hear any sounds—footsteps? A person -makes a noise on this rocky ground.”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t hear a thing.” She leaned toward -Rawson with haggard insistence. “I <i>couldn’t</i> -hear anything. I was stunned. Mr. Bassett -asked me that and you all seem to think I ought -to have heard the person—the murderer—or tried -to catch him. But I hadn’t any sense, I just -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>stood there paralyzed, not grasping what had -happened.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Bassett says you went out on the rocks -and tried to catch the body.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. <i>Then</i> I came back to life. I ran -down into the hollow and out on the rocks as far -as I could go. And she was going by on the current—her -hair and her dress all whirled about. -Oh God, why was I the one to see it!”</p> - -<p>Stokes addressed her, his voice low and urgent:</p> - -<p>“Flora, just try to answer quietly.”</p> - -<p>She paid no attention to him, her eyes riveted -on Rawson.</p> - -<p>“And then you came back to the house?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but I stood there watching her for a few -minutes. I don’t know how long, desperate, not -knowing what to do. And then I started to run -back here and I fell down. I suppose I was shaking -so and the rocks were slippery. I think I -fell twice, but I don’t know. I seemed to be half-crazy.”</p> - -<p>“You saw or heard nothing on your way back?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span></p> - -<p>“No, no, I keep telling you,” her voice grew -higher. “I <i>never</i> saw anybody. If anybody was -there he must have been hiding. They could have -heard me—I was screaming.” She turned to the -others. “Wasn’t I screaming?”</p> - -<p>Bassett confirmed her statement and she went -on, her voice still higher, the cords in her neck -starting out:</p> - -<p>“Of course they heard me and hid—got out of -the way. Some stranger. We were all in the -house, everybody here was in the house. It -couldn’t have been any of them.”</p> - -<p>Stokes half rose: “Flora—<i>please</i>!”</p> - -<p>She turned violently on him:</p> - -<p>“Why shouldn’t I say it? I’m not afraid. I -was the only person outside and it couldn’t have -been me.” She faced round on Rawson. “Nobody -could think that. Ask them—these people. -They’ll tell you.”</p> - -<p>“That’s not at all necessary, Mrs. Stokes.” -Rawson was mild and suave. “Now if you’ll try -to be calm——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p> - -<p>“Calm, calm,” she groaned and bent almost -double, dropping her face into her hands. Stokes -got up, chalk-white in the lamplight:</p> - -<p>“My wife’s pretty well knocked out, Mr. Rawson.”</p> - -<p>“Quite understandable, Mr. Stokes. We won’t -trouble her any more just now. And if the rest -of you ladies and gentlemen will refrain from saying -what you think or offering suggestions we’ll -get on a good deal quicker.”</p> - -<p>Stokes took his chair. Flora raised herself -and dropped against the back of hers with upraised -chin and closed eyes. Bassett had a photographic -impression of Williams, striking softly -on his teeth with his fountain pen and looking at -her.</p> - -<p>They went on to Stokes who was very clear and -composed. He had walked about—down the path -to the pine wood and round that end of the -house. It was absolutely still and he had heard -nobody. He was not sure of the direction of the -shot as he had been reading a paper at the time. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>Like the rest of them he had had no suspicion of -anything serious or, of course, he would have investigated.</p> - -<p>Everybody else was in the house. Bassett indicated -their positions, pointing them out as he -explained their whereabouts.</p> - -<p>Miss Saunders’ movements followed. She had -spent the earlier part of the evening sitting on the -cliffs with Miss Tracy. Miss Tracy had left her -some time after six, Miss Saunders saying she -would follow but wanted to see the end of the sunset. -No one had seen her come back but she had -come back, for shortly before seven Mrs. Cornell -had noticed her leaving the house.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cornell, invested with the grisly excitement -of the hour, was eager to tell what she knew. -She had been standing at the window of her room, -and she saw Sybil on the path below passing the -end of the balcony. Mrs. Cornell was surprised -for it was not far from supper-time and Sybil was -still in her Viola dress. She had not watched her, -but had gone back to lock the trunk. Both she -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>and Miss Pinkney agreed that the shot had followed -soon after—about six or seven minutes they -thought.</p> - -<p>They diverged to the place of the murder, the -Point. The last person who had been there was -Shine, somewhere round six-thirty, though he -couldn’t swear to the time. He’d stayed there -perhaps ten minutes, walking round, and had then -gone up to the garden. As far as he could see the -place was deserted. In answer to the question -had he seen any one on his way back, he said he -had seen Mrs. Stokes walking along the ocean -bluffs and Mr. Stokes reading a paper on the -balcony.</p> - -<p>This ended the interrogations for the time being. -The company was told they might retire to -their rooms. But they were to understand that -they were held on Gull Island for the present, no -going off on any pretext or holding communication -with any one on the mainland. Also—and -Mr. Rawson was emphatic—once in their rooms -they were to stay in them unless sent for by him. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>He did not want any wandering about in the halls -or talking together.</p> - -<p>They rose weariedly and prepared to go. -Stokes helped his wife to her feet and Bassett -edged between the chairs toward Anne.</p> - -<p>“How are you?” he murmured, for her appearance -shocked him.</p> - -<p>“All right. There’s nothing the matter with -me.”</p> - -<p>“Try to get some rest.”</p> - -<p>“Will they want us any more to-night?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think so—not you anyway.”</p> - -<p>Stokes and Flora moved toward the hall door, -the woman limply hanging on her husband’s arm. -Rawson’s voice arrested them:</p> - -<p>“Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, just wait a minute.”</p> - -<p>Everybody stopped in mid-transit, holding -their positions as if they were standing to be photographed.</p> - -<p>“Where is your room or rooms?”</p> - -<p>“We’re together in a room on this floor out in -the hall here opposite the stairs.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span></p> - -<p>“I’d rather Mrs. Stokes went up to the second -floor.” He turned to Bassett, “You have space -up there I suppose?”</p> - -<p>“Space!” It came from Miss Pinkney before -Bassett had time to answer—these hirelings of the -law did not realize where they were. “We’ve put -up more people here than you could get into one -of those flea-bitten hotels up your way.”</p> - -<p>“Take her things up there. You help her.”</p> - -<p>Flora turned stricken eyes on her husband. He -said nothing but very gently loosened her fingers -on his arm. They trailed away, Miss Pinkney -stalking ahead. Mrs. Cornell and Anne made -their exit by the opposite door. Both were silent -as they climbed the stairs. Mrs. Cornell’s door -opened and closed on her, and Anne fared on to -hers on the side stretch of the gallery. She looked -down into the lighted room, saw Shine move toward -the entrance, heard his voice, loud and startled:</p> - -<p>“Why, there’s some one down by the dock!”</p> - -<p>The other men wheeled sharply, on the alert. -She stopped, head bent, listening.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span></p> - -<p>“Patrick—the damned fool.” It was Williams. -“Told to watch the causeway and standing up -there like a lighthouse.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s your man. I’ll go down and tell him.” -Shine wanted to help all he could before his retirement -to the butler’s bedroom. “He ought to -be where he won’t show, is that it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, tell him to stow his carcass somewhere -out of sight. He ain’t there to advertise the fact -he’s on guard.”</p> - -<p>“If he gets in the shadow under the roof of the -boat-house,” said Bassett, “he can command the -whole length of it and not be seen from either -side.”</p> - -<p>“That’s the dope. The neck of this bottle’s the -causeway and it’s going to be corked good and -tight to-night.”</p> - -<p>Anne’s door closed without a sound.</p> - -<p>The three men turned back from the entrance. -“Is that woman gone up-stairs yet?” Rawson -murmured to his assistant as Williams stepped to -the middle of the room and watched the gallery. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>He continued to watch it till Flora and Miss -Pinkney appeared and finally were shut away behind -their several doors, then he looked at Rawson -and nodded.</p> - -<p>“Now,” said the district-attorney to Bassett, -“I want you to show me where that pistol was.”</p> - -<p>Bassett indicated the desk:</p> - -<p>“In the third drawer of the desk. Miss Pinkney -is certain it was there this morning.”</p> - -<p>“And you know it wasn’t there when you looked -after the shooting?” Rawson went to the desk -as he spoke.</p> - -<p>“I can swear it wasn’t.”</p> - -<p>Rawson pulled out the drawer and thrust in his -hand.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s here now,” he said, and drew out a -revolver.</p> - -<p>He held it toward them on his palm. They -stared at it, for the moment too surprised for -comment. Rawson broke it open; there was one -empty chamber.</p> - -<p>“Can we get into some room where there’s more -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>privacy than this place?” he said. “I want some -more talk with you, Mr. Bassett.”</p> - -<p>Bassett directed them to the library. He put -out the living-room lights and followed them.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bassett</span> was prepared for what he had to tell. -During the long wait for the officers of the law -his mind had been ranging over it, shaking bare -from unnecessary detail the chain of events that -had ended in murder. It was impossible to conceal -the situation between Sybil and the Stokeses; -he could not if he had wished it and he did not wish -it. A girl had been brutally done to death, a girl -innocent of any evil intention, and his desire to -bring her murderer to justice was as strong as -either Williams’ or Rawson’s. And they could get -the facts better from him than from the muddled -stories of the others, their minds clouded by prejudice -and hearsay. He hoped that what he said -would be coldly unbiased, the naked truth as he -knew it. That his revelations would involve a -woman whom he liked and pitied would not induce -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>him to withhold what ought to be known. Chivalry -had no place in this grim drama. As he had -discharged his duties as director of a theatrical -company rent by passions and dissensions, he now -prepared to discharge them as the most responsible -and fair-minded member of the group.</p> - -<p>Sitting by the desk in the library he unveiled -the situation, what he had heard, seen and knew. -The men gave an unwinking attention, now and -then stopping him to plant a question. The -trend of Williams’ thoughts was soon revealed—he -suspected Flora Stokes. When the matter was -threshed out he came to an open admission with -the remark:</p> - -<p>“Well, you have only one person here who had -the provocation necessary to commit murder.”</p> - -<p>Bassett made no answer. If his duty required -him to tell all he knew, it did not require him to -give his own opinions.</p> - -<p>Rawson who was smoking, his long, loose-jointed -frame slouched down in an armchair, took -his cigar from his mouth:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p> - -<p>“Of course the woman’s the first person you’d -think of. She had the necessary provocation and -the state of mind. But the way she came in and -told them—as Mr. Bassett describes it—doesn’t -look to me like a guilty person.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“Sounds too genuine, too like real excitement.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think it’s natural to get excited if -you’ve killed some one?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but not just that way.”</p> - -<p>Williams leaned over the arm of his chair:</p> - -<p>“You got to remember something about these -people, Rawson—and it counts big—they’re all -actors.”</p> - -<p>Bassett spoke up quickly:</p> - -<p>“No, she wasn’t acting. You’d have known -that if you’d seen her. What she did was natural—a -woman suffering from a fearful shock.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t an actor put that on?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, some could, but I’m certain she wasn’t.”</p> - -<p>“When Stokes came into the room after the -shot,” said Rawson, “how did he behave?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span></p> - -<p>“He seemed all right. But I can’t honestly say -that I noticed him much. The light was fading -and I was so irritated by the thought that some -one had been shooting that I didn’t pay any attention -to him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, rubbish!” Williams made a rolling motion -in the scoop of the big chair. “You can’t -suspect the man; he was in love with her. He -didn’t want to kill her, he wanted to keep her -alive.”</p> - -<p>“Men <i>do</i> kill the women they love, especially -when they can’t get her.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, they do. I’ve known of such cases. But -that’s impulse. This was premeditated.” The -sheriff pointed at the revolver lying on the desk. -“Sometime to-day somebody located that gun, -took it for a purpose—not to shoot sea-gulls as -you thought, Mr. Bassett.”</p> - -<p>Rawson looked at the pistol:</p> - -<p>“Premeditation, all right. Was there anybody -in the outfit who didn’t know you’d opened that -drawer and found the revolver gone?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p> - -<p>Bassett considered:</p> - -<p>“Stokes didn’t know. He came in after I’d shut -the drawer. I didn’t speak of it because just as -I’d got through asking him if he’d seen any one, -we heard Mrs. Stokes’ scream.”</p> - -<p>“And <i>she</i> didn’t, of course,” commented Williams.</p> - -<p>“While you were running round at the Point -the house was empty?”</p> - -<p>“I think Mrs. Stokes was here all the time. I -never saw her outside.”</p> - -<p>“Any of the others come up?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not certain of all of them. I know Shine -did; I sent him back to phone over to Hayworth -for the boats. And Stokes did, he came up for -the electric torch when I was in here telephoning -to you.”</p> - -<p>“Then neither of them knew the loss of the revolver -had been discovered and they had plenty -of opportunity to return it to the desk?”</p> - -<p>Bassett nodded, and after a minute’s cogitation -Rawson went on:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span></p> - -<p>“Doesn’t it seem odd to you that no one saw -Miss Saunders when she came back to the house?”</p> - -<p>“No. They were all in their rooms, except -Shine who was down at the Point and Mrs. Stokes -who was reading on the balcony. I asked her particularly -if she’d noticed Sybil pass and she said -no, she’d been interested in her book and wouldn’t -have noticed anybody.”</p> - -<p>“I’d give a good deal to know what Miss Saunders -did in that time. I think it would let in some -light.”</p> - -<p>“How so?”</p> - -<p>Rawson narrowed his eyes in contemplation of -an unfolding line of thought:</p> - -<p>“Well, what took her out again to the Point -after she’d come in? She hadn’t a good deal of -time and she wanted to change her clothes before -supper. It looks to me as if she met some one in -the house, some one who wanted her to go down -there with them.”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Cornell says she was alone.”</p> - -<p>“She might have started alone and gone to meet -them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span></p> - -<p>“Then it couldn’t have been Stokes,” said Williams, -“for Mr. Bassett says she wouldn’t speak -to him if she could help it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” Bassett nodded in agreement. -“She’d never have made a date with him. She -shunned him like the plague. If you knew her you -wouldn’t see anything in that going out. She was -restless and unhappy and the place here—the sea, -the views—fascinated her. It was our last evening -and it was like her not to want to miss any -of it, slip out for a minute to enjoy the end of it.”</p> - -<p>“And came upon some one waiting for her—lying -in wait and——”</p> - -<p>Rawson did not finish. A thud and crackling -crash came from the living-room. The three men -rose with a simultaneous leap and ran for the -door.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Of all</span> the people gathered in the house that -evening Anne had been the most silent. Her ravaged -face, the contours broken by gray hollows, -bearing the stamp of shock and horror, had been -unnoticed among the other faces. Now and then -a pitying glance had been directed to her, grief -as Sybil’s friend must have added a last unbearable -poignancy to the tragedy.</p> - -<p>After her question to Flora her mind had -seemed to blur and cease to function. She had -run from the house not knowing what she did, -gone hither and thither with the others, looking, -speaking, listening in a blind daze. It was not -till they returned to the living-room that her faculties -began to clear and coordinate. The lights, -the familiar setting, the talk that could not leave -the subject, shook her back to reality. It was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>then that she went to the window and sat with her -back to the room. She wanted no one to see her -face; she was afraid of what it might betray.</p> - -<p>Her thoughts circled round the image of Joe -as she had last seen him—the vision of him as -some one strange and sinister. And the boat—the -boat with only Gabriel in it—it kept coming -up like a picture revolving on a wheel—going and -returning, going and returning. Had he stayed -and what for? That question revolved with the -picture of the boat. She could not get free of -them, their obsessing force held her like a somnambulist -staring into the night.</p> - -<p>She thought of telling Bassett and gave that -up—with the police expected she could not get -him alone, and why add to his burden with her -suspicions? Yes, that was what it was—nothing -but a suspicion. She had no certainty, Joe might -have been in the boat, Joe might have got off the -island some other way. To-morrow something -might come to light that would make these hideous -fancies seem like the dreams of delirium. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>That was the state of mind she tried to maintain -when she went up-stairs and overheard a man was -on guard at the causeway.</p> - -<p>With that knowledge her outlook changed. Her -passive rôle was over. She sat down on the side -of the bed and with a grim desperate resolution -faced what she had tried to flee.</p> - -<p>If Joe had done it and if he was on the island -he would try to get off at low tide. It was safe -to assume that he was outside, hidden till the -causeway was open. To go out to find him would -be useless, he would never reveal himself to her, -and if she was seen suspicion would instantly be -aroused. She must get somewhere that would -command the causeway and its approaches. Her -mind ran over every nook and angle, every shadow -and rock ledge between the house and the shore. -Impossible—it was too open and the light was -like day. The best place—the only place—was -the living-room entrance. From there she could -see in all directions, the balcony end, the kitchen -wing, the pine grove. She would try to wave him -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>back, possibly get to him—she had to take her -chances and trust to Heaven.</p> - -<p>And then he might never come—it might be just -an awful nightmare and he was with Jimmy Travers -on his way to the northern woods. She -dropped her face in her hands and sent up broken -words of pleading that it might be so.</p> - -<p>The tide was at full ebb at midnight. At a -quarter before she made ready. She took from -the bureau a book she had been reading—if she -met any one she could say she had come down to -find it—and opened her door with the stealth of a -burglar. A dead silence reigned as she stole down -the stairs and into the living-room. Here the -great line of windows—the moon not yet upon -them—shone in gray oblongs diffusing a spectral -light that did not touch the darkness under the -galleries.</p> - -<p>At the entrance, pressed against the door, she -looked out. It was a world of white enchantment, -breathlessly still. She could see the patterned -surfaces of leaves, the cracks and fissures of the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>rocks. Below the channel lay almost bare, pools -glistening like dropped mirrors, mounds of mud -casting inky shadows. In the middle—a restless -silvery sparkle—ran a narrow stream carrying a -glinting line of radiance to the ocean beyond. The -pungent smell of mud and seaweed came from it -along with the sleepy lisp of rippling water.</p> - -<p>She could hear the murmur of the men’s voices -from the open library windows, and like the -throbbing of a muffled engine, the beating of her -own heart.</p> - -<p>Into that deep enveloping quietude came a -sound, so faint, so infinitely small and hushed, -that only expectant ears could have caught it. It -came from the room behind her, and turning, she -slid back against the wall, her body black against -its blackness. The sound continued, the opening -of a door opposite, the door into the kitchen wing. -It seemed no door in the world had ever opened so -slowly—creaking, stopping, resuming, dying -away. She could see nothing, for the darkness of -the gallery lay impenetrable over that furtive entrance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p> - -<p>There was a footstep, light as the fall of a leaf, -and she saw him coming toward her in that high -luminous pallor from the windows. He was like -a shadow, so evenly dark, a shape without detail, -moving with a shadow’s noiseless passage. She -saw the outline of the cap on his head and that he -carried his shoes in one hand.</p> - -<p>She came forward with a hand raised for caution, -sending her voice before her in an agonized -whisper:</p> - -<p>“Go back, Joe. The causeway’s watched. You -can’t get over that way. <i>Go!</i>”</p> - -<p>He was gone, a fleet flying, vanishing back into -the darkness under the gallery. Out of it came -the soft closing of the door.</p> - -<p>The room swayed, pale light and darkness -swam and coalesced. She knew she was near a -table and put out her hand to steady herself by -it, something solid to hold to for one minute. The -polished surface slid under her fingers and she -groped out with the hand that held the book. The -book slipped from her clasp, fell with a thud like -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>a thunderclap, and a grasping snatch to save it -swept a lamp crashing to the floor. Panic dispelled -her faintness and she made a rush for the -door. She had gained it. Her fingers clutched -round the knob, as she heard the steps of the men -in the hall and knew it was too late to escape.</p> - -<p>They burst in, thrust into the room’s dim quiet -as if shot by a blast.</p> - -<p>“It’s nothing,” she called, hearing her voice -thin and hoarse. “Nothing’s happened. It’s only -Anne Tracy.”</p> - -<p>The lights leaped out and she saw them, Bassett -with his hand on the electric button, stricken -still, looking this way and that. His eye found -her first, backed against the door, a small green-clad -figure with an ashen face.</p> - -<p>“What’s this mean?” said Rawson.</p> - -<p>“Nothing.” She was afraid the handle would -rattle with the shaking of her hand so let it go. -“I upset the lamp in the dark. I didn’t see it -that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“What are you doing here?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span></p> - -<p>“I came down to get my book. I forgot and -left it when I went up-stairs.”</p> - -<p>She could get her breath now and her voice was -under control. She felt strength oozing back into -her body and with it courage.</p> - -<p>“You’re as white as a sheet,” Williams blurted -out.</p> - -<p>“Did something frighten you?” demanded -Bassett.</p> - -<p>“No, but a sort of faintness came over me, -there by the table, and I grabbed at it and upset -the lamp.”</p> - -<p>Rawson looked at the table with the shattered -fragments of the lamp beside it. It was not far -from the entrance door.</p> - -<p>“Did you see anything—anything outside?”</p> - -<p>“No, not a thing and I didn’t hear a sound.”</p> - -<p>“What do you suppose made you feel faint?”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” She dared to make a gesture, upraised -hands that dropped limply. “Hasn’t there been -enough here to make anybody faint?”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got to remember, Rawson,” said Bassett<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span> -who thought the man’s insistence unnecessary, -“what a shock this has been—especially to Miss -Tracy who was Miss Saunders’ friend.”</p> - -<p>“I remember.” Then to Anne: “Miss Tracy, -if you should withhold any information from us -you’d get yourself into a very uncomfortable position.”</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t,” she breathed.</p> - -<p>Rawson’s glance remained on her, dubiously intent. -Bassett noted it with a resentment he found -it difficult to hide.</p> - -<p>“You can absolutely rely on Miss Tracy,” he -said. “She would be perfectly frank with you if -she had anything to tell.”</p> - -<p>“No doubt, no doubt,” said the other, and -walked to the entrance. “I’m going out to have -a look around.” On the sill he turned and addressed -Anne. “I gave some instructions to you -ladies and I expected to have them followed. -You’ll please remember them in the future.”</p> - -<p>He passed out into the brilliancy of the moonlight. -Now that he was gone Bassett felt he must -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>make her understand. He had been astonished at -what she had done. It was so unlike her, a disobedience -of orders at such a time as this.</p> - -<p>“You must do what they tell you, Anne. They -have to make these rules and it’s up to us to keep -them.”</p> - -<p>“I will now. You can trust me. Mr. Williams, -you can see how it was. I couldn’t sleep and my -mind was full of this awful thing, and I thought if -I could put it on something else—get free from my -thoughts even for a few minutes!”</p> - -<p>Williams grunted his comprehension. He felt -rather tenderly toward her, she looked so small -and wan and her voice was so pleading.</p> - -<p>“Where was your book?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“On the table behind you. I was feeling round -for it and I think I pushed it off with the lamp.”</p> - -<p>“What was the name of it?”</p> - -<p>“<i>Victory</i>, by Joseph Conrad.”</p> - -<p>He went to the table. His back turned, she -and Bassett exchanged a long look. Williams -picked up the book and came back with it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span></p> - -<p>“Here it is,” he said, giving it to her. “And -just make a note of the fact that you’re not to go -round the house at night after books or anything -else.”</p> - -<p>She assured him she would not, she would give -them no more trouble, and opening the door she -slipped away. They remained without speaking -till she came out on the gallery and walked to her -room. Bassett stood looking up after she had -disappeared, the memory of her face as they burst -in upon her added a new peculiar distress to his -harrowed state.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Williams, “her book <i>was</i> there.”</p> - -<p>Bassett stared at him:</p> - -<p>“<i>Was</i> there! Why shouldn’t it be?”</p> - -<p>Williams gave an upward hitch of his shoulders:</p> - -<p>“Words come easy, Mr. Bassett.”</p> - -<p>“Good God!” exclaimed Bassett in horrified -amaze. “You have any idea she was <i>lying</i>? If -you have, get it out of your head. I’ve known -Miss Tracy for three years and she could no more -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span>say what wasn’t true than—well, she <i>couldn’t</i>, -that’s all.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think she did. It sounded to me a perfectly -straight story.”</p> - -<p>“It was. You can take my word for that.”</p> - -<p>They were back in the library when Rawson reappeared -with Shine. Shine, unable to sleep, had -been sitting by his window when Rawson, scouting, -had stopped to inquire if he had seen any one. -Shine had not, but had volunteered to join in a -hunt and the two had been about the house and -the immediate vicinity. Nothing had been discovered -and Patrick had seen no sign of life or -heard no sound. Now they had come back for the -electric torch and were going to extend their -search. A person concealed on the seaward side -of the island might be moving at this hour when -the causeway was free. Bassett said he would go -with them and the three men left the room by one -of the long windows.</p> - -<p>Williams opened the library door and turned -off the lights. The noise of the departing trio -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>would suggest to any one on the watch that the -house was free of police supervision and there -might be developments. He took the desk chair as -easier to rise from than the deep-seated leather -ones and settled himself to a <i>resumé</i> of what they -had so far gathered.</p> - -<p>He was convinced of Mrs. Stokes’ guilt and ran -over the reasons. A hysterical woman, frantic -with jealousy—that alone was enough. But that -woman had been the only member of the party who -at the time of the shooting had been some distance -from the house. She had taken the pistol with the -intention of using it if an occasion offered. Her -walk had been undertaken with the hope that she -might find that occasion in the hour before supper -when they were all in their rooms. The occasion -<i>had</i> offered. Miss Saunders, unable to resist -the beauty of the evening, had gone to the Point -alone. He set no store by Rawson’s opinion that -the woman’s state of mind was too genuinely distracted. -He considered it as part of a premeditated -plan carried through with nerve and skill. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>She would have known that the report of the pistol -would have been heard at the house. This, -when Miss Saunders did not return, would have -suggested foul play. And she, Mrs. Stokes, was -the only person out on the island. A later entrance, -with an assumption of ignorance, would -have turned suspicion on her like a pointing -finger. She was too intelligent for that—had -called her abilities as an actress to her aid and put -them all off with her screaming excitement.</p> - -<p>Another point that he wanted to look into was -the length of time she had been at the shore after -the report—a great deal too long for what she -said she had done. Too paralyzed to think or -move, her explanation was stunned. Williams -was divided in his opinion as to that—either pulling -herself together for the grand-stand play she -was to make or possibly pushing the body into -the water.</p> - -<p>It was at this juncture that he suddenly cocked -his head and let his hands drop softly to the arms -of the chair. From the stairs outside came a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>faint creak, a pause and then again, step by step -a bare or stockinged foot in gradual descent.</p> - -<p>The big man arose as noiselessly as he could -and made for the hall. But his bulk and his boots -were not adapted to rapid movements or silent -surprise. As he reached the hall he heard the pattering -flight of light feet and cursed under his -breath as he felt for the electric button. Her -room—the one he had seen Miss Pinkney put her -in—was just beyond the stair-head to the right. -And her husband’s—he turned and faced the secretive -panels of its closed door.</p> - -<p>Williams dropped his head and trod thoughtfully -back to the library, but this time he left the -hall lights on. Also he lit the library ones and -allowed himself the solace of a cigar. “She won’t -try that again to-night,” he said to himself and -dropped into an easy chair.</p> - -<p>Then Stokes must know. They had had opportunity -for private conference in that hour after -the murder when the others were out of the house. -She had either told him or he had accused her; for -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>all they knew he might have seen her do it. Anyway -she wanted to get speech with him and it -might be support, counsel, the matching up of -their stories—but whatever it was she must have -been in dire straights to take such a risk.</p> - -<p>Williams smoked on, comfortably sprawled in -the deep chair, thinking out a line of attack on -the Stokeses.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> night search of the island had given up -nothing and a daylight exploration was set for -the morning. Before this, however, Rawson -wanted to go through Miss Saunders’ room, which -by his orders had been locked and left untouched. -It occupied the corner of the second floor directly -above the library, the first of the long line of bedchambers -that stretched across the land front of -the house. Their doors opened upon a hall that -traversed the building from end to end, its central -section forming one side of the gallery.</p> - -<p>In her short stay the girl seemed to have impressed -the place with her dainty charm. It was -beauty’s bower, a bright and scented nest, chintz -bung, with white fur rugs on the floor and silken -cushions which bore the impress of her light -weight. Steeped in the morning sun, warm and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>still, it extended its welcome as if waiting for her -entrance. The signs of feminine occupation -caught the eyes of the men and held them chilled -on the threshold. Enhancements of her beauty -were strewn on the bureau, the garments that had -clothed her graceful body lay on the bed where -her hand had thrown them. A delicate perfume -filled the air, the fragrance of her passing habitation -still lingering in ghostlike sweetness after the -living presence had gone.</p> - -<p>Rawson moved first, shaking off the spell. He -looked into the open wardrobe trunk, completely -packed but for the last hanger. “Going to put -her costume there,” he said, touching it with his -index finger. He pulled out the drawers and ran -his eye over their contents. A gray crêpe dress -lay across the foot of the bed, beside it a cloak -and a black hat with a water-lily garnishing the -brim. “These,” he said, “were the clothes left -out to wear.”</p> - -<p>Bassett nodded. He could see Sybil in the gray -dress with her hair a golden fluff below the edge -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>of the black hat. She had worn them on the way -up and been pleased when he had admired her -costume.</p> - -<p>They went over the desk; a few postage stamps -and a writing tablet. But the desk had evidently -not been used—the square of new blotting paper -in the carved leather holder was unmarked. The -waste-paper basket only contained a torn veil and -the wrapper of a package of hair pins. On the -bed-table was a book and a candy box containing -two chocolate bonbons.</p> - -<p>By the bureau an open bag stood on a chair. -There was nothing in this but a book, one of the -many treatises on self-development and the -achievement of spiritual calm and control. Poor -Sybil! Bassett turned away with a sick heart—had -she found now what she had been striving -for?</p> - -<p>The dressing-table was the only place in the -room that her neat arranging hand had not -touched. It was covered with a litter of toilet articles, -cold-cream jars, rouge boxes, powders and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>scents, a silver hand mirror, a pair of long white -gloves. Williams picked up a bead bag and -opened it. It contained a wisp of handkerchief, -a bunch of keys, a lip-stick and a gold -change purse. In the central compartment were -three five-dollar bills and in the gold purse one -dollar and thirty-five cents in coin.</p> - -<p>“This couldn’t have been all the money she -had,” he queried.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” said Bassett. “I guess some of us -haven’t that much. She didn’t need any. All our -expenses were paid and she was going straight -home. One of those bills was probably intended -for Miss Pinkney.”</p> - -<p>Nothing more came to light. The closets were -empty, the bathroom contained a few toilet articles -and a nightgown and negligée hanging on -the door. Obviously a place swept clean for a -coming departure by one who had no premonition -that that departure would be final.</p> - -<p>They passed out and along the hall, Rawson -wanting to see the disposition of the passages and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>stairs. At the door next to Miss Saunders’ he -stopped, asking who occupied that room. It was -vacant now but had been Joe Tracy’s. He -opened the door and looked in upon another -chintz-hung chamber, all signs of recent habitation -removed that morning by Miss Pinkney’s energetic -hand. A steamer trunk in the corner -caught his attention and Bassett explained it was -young Tracy’s trunk which his sister was to take -back to New York with her.</p> - -<p>Beyond that the hall ran into the gallery passing -under an arch of carved wood. They traversed -it, looking down into the richly colored -expanse of the room below, and fared on under a -companion arch into the last stretch of the hall. -At the stair-head Rawson halted:</p> - -<p>“Only two flights connecting with this floor, -the one in the front by the library and this. Now -the top story—how do you get to that?”</p> - -<p>Bassett showed them a staircase at the end of -the hall. He had never been up there himself, but -some one, Mrs. Cornell, he thought, had. It was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>the servants’ quarters and had not been occupied -during their stay, Miss Pinkney and her helper -having had rooms on the gallery.</p> - -<p>Later on they would take a look up there, the -island was their business now. According to Williams, -all this searching was merely a formality, -and they descended the stairs conferring together. -It was their purpose to keep Stokes and his wife -from any possibility of private communication. -Shine had been delegated to stay beside one or -other of them, and so far, they had made no attempts -to get together. Their amenability added -to Williams’ suspicion and it was his suggestion -that they should bring Stokes with them on their -hunt. When that was finished they planned taking -Mrs. Stokes to the place of the murder and -making her rehearse just what she had seen.</p> - -<p>Starting from the Point they explored the island -foot by foot, scouting across the open expanses -where a rabbit could hardly have hidden -and prying into the hollows and rifts of the -boulders on the shore. On the sea front, wedged -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>between miniature cliffs, there were triangles and -crescents of sand, bathing beaches with small pavilions -built against the cliffs. But no foot-prints -marred the sand’s wave-beaten smoothness, no -trail of broken grass and brambles indicated the -passage of a body. The path that followed the -bluff’s edge, making a detour round the ravines, -yielded neither trace nor clue. The dressing-rooms -back of the amphitheater behind a clump -of cedars, gave no sign of having harbored an -alien presence. The little amphitheater itself, -sunk in its green cup, lay open to their eyes as -they stood on its brink. They walked among the -stone seats, seamed with a velvet padding of moss, -and gathered up a few programs, a pair of woman’s -gloves and a necklace of blue beads.</p> - -<p>That brought them to the end. The house had -no outbuildings; garages, barns and sheds were in -the village across the channel. There was no one -in hiding on the island.</p> - -<p>They found Flora, Shine and Mrs. Cornell on -the balcony. As they came up Flora looked at -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>them and then averted her glance as if in proud -determination to show no curiosity. Rouge had -been applied to her cheeks and her dry lips were a -vivid rose color. The high tints showed ghastly -on her withered skin but her dark eyes were scintillant -with an avid burning vitality. It was like -a face still holding the colors and hot warmth of -youth suddenly stricken by untimely age.</p> - -<p>Williams, halting at the foot of the steps, told -her what they wanted—her position and Miss -Saunders’ at the time of the shooting, going over -the ground and making it clear to them. She rose -alertly with a quick understanding nod—she -would be glad to, it was her earnest desire to be -of help to them in any way she could. Rawson -noticed that she did not look at her husband but -kept her eyes on Williams with an intent frowning -concentration, moving her head in agreement -with his instructions.</p> - -<p>At the shore she was eager to explain everything, -took her place on the path where she had -been when she saw Sybil appear on the other side -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>of the hollow. Her rendering of the scene was -graphic and given with much careful detail. The -men, grouped about, followed her indicating hand, -stopping her now and then with a question. -Stokes stood back watching, his face in the searching -daylight smoothly yellow like a face of wax.</p> - -<p>Williams’ questions were many and pointed, and -it soon became evident to Bassett what he had in -his mind—that her explanation of her actions did -not account for the length of time she had been on -the shore. Whether she saw it or not he could -not tell; checked in her story she would answer -patiently, reiterating her first statement that her -stunned condition had robbed her of the power of -thought or motion. But he was sure Stokes had -grasped the trend of the query; he drew nearer, -his flexible lips working, the hand hanging at his -side clenching and unclenching. Once he assayed -to speak, a hoarse sound throttled in escape. It -pierced the strained attention she was giving her -questioners, and, for the first time, she hesitated -and fumbled for her words.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p> - -<p>When it was over and they returned to the -house, Stokes dropped to her side and drew her -hand through his arm. She drooped against him; -her narrow body looked nerveless, as if but for his -support it would have crumpled and sunk. But -he planted his feet with a hard defiance, each step -drew a ringing echo from the rocks and he held his -head high. Bassett, following them, noted his -rigid carriage, and when he turned his profile, the -wide nostril spread like that of a winded horse.</p> - -<p>There was a ghastly lunch. The men of the law -ate greedily and without words. Shine was -ashamed that he had any appetite and tried to -appease it with bread which he could extract from -the plate in front of him without notice. There -was almost no speech. Miss Pinkney, executing -her duties with an automatic precision, did what -waiting was necessary, and her voice, inquiring -their needs and proffering second helpings, broke -desolate expanses of silence.</p> - -<p>When it was over Williams and Rawson took -up the trail again. They were now going to direct<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span> -their attention to the Point, especially the -summer-house, from which a path led to the summit -of the bluff whence Sybil had fallen. Bassett, -who had hoped to get a word with Anne, was -bidden to join them, and the three left the house -step by step tracing the passage of the dead girl.</p> - -<p>They began with the pine grove. Needles carpeted -the ground, slippery smooth, a beaten trail -winding between the tree trunks. Beyond it the -path ascended the bare slope to the summer-house. -“No place to hide here,” Rawson said. “The -murderer, if Mrs. Stokes’ story is true, was either -in the open or in the summer-house.” They -paused, moved on, bent for a closer scrutiny of -the dry grass, searched for an imprint in the pebbled -walk. Secretive as the rest of the island, the -way divulged nothing. Sybil’s light foot had -made no faintest mark, she had gone to her death -leaving no track nor trace.</p> - -<p>The summer-house, a small, six-sided building, -was covered by a thick growth of Virginia creeper -that swathed its rustic shape. In four of its walls -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>the vines, matted into a mantle of green, had been -cut away to form windows. Framed in these -squares sea and land views were like pictures -brilliantly bright from the shaded interior. The -other two sides held the entrances, one giving on -the path that descended to the pine grove, one to -its continuation to the Point. A circular seat ran -round the walls and a table in the same bark-covered -wood was the only movable piece of furniture. -This was drawn up against the seat at -one side. Rawson moved it out as the other two -ran exploring eyes over the walls, the door-sills -and the floor of wooden planking upon which a -few leaves were scattered.</p> - -<p>“Here,” he cried suddenly. “What’s this?” -and drew from a crevice where the legs crossed, -some scraps of a coarse gold material.</p> - -<p>He held them up against the light of the opening—three -short strands of what might have been -the gilt string used to tie Christmas packages.</p> - -<p>“What do you know about this?” he said, offering -them to Bassett’s gaze.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span></p> - -<p>Bassett looked, and Williams with craned neck -and lifted brows looked too. They were exactly -of a length, broken filaments of thread attached -to the end of each.</p> - -<p>“They’ve been torn off something,” Rawson -indicated the threads, “caught in that joint of -the table legs and pulled off. Did she have anything -like this on her dress anywhere, a trimming -or——”</p> - -<p>“Fringe,” Bassett interrupted, “the fringe on -her sash.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” Rawson could not hide his exultation. -“<i>Now</i> we’ve got something we can get our teeth -into.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Bassett took the pieces and studied -them in the light. “That’s what it is. She wore -a wide sash round her waist with ends that hung -down edged with gold fringe. This is a bit of it.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Williams, “that’s a starter anyhow. -She was in here.”</p> - -<p>Rawson sat on the bench and drew the table -into its former position:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span></p> - -<p>“It not only proves she was in here, but it -proves a good deal more. This is the way she -was, with the table as we found it close in front of -her. The ends of her sash would have been in contact -with the table legs. Now she jumped up -quickly—do you get that? If she’d gone slow or -had time to think she’d have felt the pull and unloosed -the sash—but she sprang up, didn’t -notice.” He looked from one to the other, his -lean face alight.</p> - -<p>“Frightened,” said Bassett.</p> - -<p>“So frightened she didn’t feel it, and moved -with such force she tore the fringe off. That -scare took her up from the seat and sent her -flying through the doorway for the Point.”</p> - -<p>“Hold on now,” said Williams. “If she was as -scared as that why didn’t she go for the house -where there were people?”</p> - -<p>“Because she was too scared to think. Some -one with a pistol was on the other side of the -table.” He rose and went to the entrance facing -the Point. “And the person with the pistol shot -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>at her from here—winged her as she ran.” He -turned to Bassett. “That’s why you saw no one -when you looked out after you first heard the -shot. The murderer was in here lying low.”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Bassett thought back over the moment -when he had stood in the living-room doorway. -“That’s the only place he could have been or I’d -have seen him. But they wouldn’t have been any -time together—couldn’t have had a quarrel or a -scene. According to Mrs. Cornell it was only six -or seven minutes after she saw Sybil go out that -she heard the shot. That would give them only -two or three minutes in here.”</p> - -<p>“Time enough to draw a gun and back it up -with a few sentences. It bears out what I’ve -thought from the start—not an accidental meeting -but a date, to which the woman came unsuspecting -and the other primed to kill.”</p> - -<p>“Then Mrs. Stokes got on to that date,” said -Williams, “and broke in on it. And there’s only -one person that date could have been with—Stokes.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p> - -<p>Bassett’s nerves were raw with strain and anxiety. -This reiteration of a rendezvous with Stokes -maddened him:</p> - -<p>“But it couldn’t have been. I’ve told you. I -knew Miss Saunders well. I know what she felt -about the man, and besides I have the evidence of -my own eyes that she avoided him in every way -she could. Make an appointment to meet him -alone! She’d as soon make an appointment with -Satan.”</p> - -<p>Neither of the men answered him for a moment. -Williams regarded his sentiment with respect. He -had been a friend of the dead girl’s and it was natural -he should stand up for her, whether rightly -or wrongly Williams was not yet sure. Rawson -was impressed; he had formed a high opinion of -the director’s candor and truthfulness and his -words weighed with him:</p> - -<p>“I go a good deal by what you say, Mr. Bassett, -and as to this meeting of which I’m convinced—whom -it was with I don’t know. Williams -here has made up his mind and worked out -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>his case. I don’t agree with him. I believe Mrs. -Stokes is telling the truth. What she says hangs -together all right. I think her explanation of the -passage of time when she was on the shore is entirely -plausible. That she may know something is -possible, but I don’t think she’s guilty.”</p> - -<p>“Then you must think it’s Stokes,” said Williams -with some heat. “There’s nobody else it -could be.”</p> - -<p>Rawson considered before he spoke:</p> - -<p>“I don’t see Stokes as deliberately murdering -the woman he was in love with. That’s generally -an act of impulse, sudden desperation. And -there was no impulse here. Careful premeditation—the -stealing of the revolver, luring her to -this summer-house, the threats or rage when she -got here that made her fly. It’s more like the -working out of revenge than the act of blind passion. -Stokes doesn’t look to me the kind of man -that would kill so carefully. He’s too soft.”</p> - -<p>“Then who is it?” Williams exclaimed. “Somebody -killed her.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span></p> - -<p>Rawson moved toward the doorway:</p> - -<p>“That’s about all I’m willing to agree to at -present. But I’d like to see Stokes again. He -and his wife may know more than they say—I -don’t deny <i>that</i>—but she’s got a better nerve -than he has. We’ll get him into the library and -have a whack at him.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bassett</span> was detailed to find Stokes and bring -him to the library. A summons from the director -would have an air of informality which might put -Stokes off his guard. Rawson did not communicate -this to his messenger, but told Williams -when they were alone. He had been watching -Stokes and thought the man showed signs of -strain. That morning at the beach Stokes’ manner -and appearance had suggested a nerve tension -which might rise from anxiety about his wife, but -might also be the result of some knowledge he was -struggling to withhold.</p> - -<p>Bassett found Flora and Shine on the balcony -and heard that Stokes had gone to his room to -try to get some sleep. He knocked on the door -and to a gruff “Come in” entered to find Stokes -lying on the bed. He rose quickly, exhibiting the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span>same alacrity his wife had shown earlier in the -day.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he said. “I’m ready to come -whenever they want me. In fact I’ve been lying -here expecting it, going back over last evening, -trying to think of anything I may have overlooked -that might help them.”</p> - -<p>There was a willing bruskness in his manner, -an almost hearty readiness to do what was asked -of him that seemed not quite genuine, adopted, -perhaps, to hide the natural nervousness of a person -in his position. Seated in an easy chair before -the two men, Bassett back of them by the -window noticed that his hands were restless, -smoothing and pulling at his clothes, settling his -tie. Despite his disquiet he assumed an attitude -of expectant attention, gravely awaiting their -will, his eyes glancing from one face to the other. -He might readily have been a guilty man primed -for attack, or an innocent one shaken by the untoward -circumstances in which he found himself.</p> - -<p>Rawson’s manner was friendly and reassuring. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>They wanted to get all possible information on -the movements of the company the evening before. -Last night the examinations had been cursory and -fuller ones were necessary. They would like to -know just what he had done from the time he entered -the house to change his clothes to the time -when he had heard the shot.</p> - -<p>He answered promptly with businesslike directness. -Went to his room, changed his clothes, laid -on the bed resting for a while, then sat on the -balcony reading the paper.</p> - -<p>While he was sitting there Miss Saunders must -have passed the end of the balcony by the path -that led to the Point.</p> - -<p>She must have, but he had not seen her, being -occupied with his paper.</p> - -<p>Had he while in the house seen Miss Saunders -or heard her voice?</p> - -<p>He had not. He had no idea she had come in.</p> - -<p>Had he seen his wife?</p> - -<p>“My wife? Yes, I saw her for a moment. In the -hall when I came out of our room after dressing.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p> - -<p>“Did she tell you she was going to take a walk -round the island?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I hardly remember.” He tilted his head -sidewise with an air of careful consideration. -“Yes, I believe she did say something about it—it’s -very vague in my mind. It made no impression -on me. We exchanged a few words and -parted.”</p> - -<p>“She said nothing to you about Miss Saunders -being in the house?”</p> - -<p>“Why no, she didn’t know it. We didn’t mention -Miss Saunders at all.”</p> - -<p>“But she was—she had been—a frequent subject -of conversation between you?”</p> - -<p>His eyes, looking at Rawson, seemed to harden -and grow more fixed:</p> - -<p>“We <i>had</i> talked of her—naturally being in the -same company.”</p> - -<p>“Your wife and Miss Saunders were not very -friendly?”</p> - -<p>A fierce light rose in the fixed eyes, the nostrils -widened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p> - -<p>“What are you getting at, Mr. Rawson?”</p> - -<p>“Our business, Mr. Stokes. We’re here to investigate -a murder and we can’t spare people’s -feelings or shut our eyes to disagreeable facts.”</p> - -<p>“Have I shown any signs of expecting that? -I’ve put myself at your disposal, my wife has. -We’re ready to give you any help we can, but I’m -not ready to back up any damned suspicions that -have been put into your mind.”</p> - -<p>“We’re not asking you to,” said Rawson. “But -we know what was going on here before the -shooting.”</p> - -<p>Bassett spoke up:</p> - -<p>“I’m the person that told them, Aleck. It had -to be done. They had to be acquainted with the -whole situation, and they got it from me. But -they heard no lies, no suppositions—you know -you can trust me for that.”</p> - -<p>Stokes’ glance shifted to him. Through its -savage defiance Bassett could detect the torment -of his soul, despairingly betrayed to the one person -he knew would be just.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not blaming you,” he answered: “You -couldn’t do anything else. And they can hear it -all from me.” He looked at the two men. “I -don’t want to keep anything back. You don’t -have to use any of your third-degree methods -with me. I’m willing to tell. I was in love with -her, madly, like a fool, hounded her, dogged her -footsteps. You’ve heard that. And my wife was -jealous—so jealous they all could see. You’ve -heard that too.”</p> - -<p>The confession of his passion, remorseless in -its bitter revelation, was horrible, like the tearing -aside of wrappings from a raw wound.</p> - -<p>“Yes, we’ve heard it,” muttered Williams.</p> - -<p>“She hated me. I don’t know whether you’ve -heard that too, but I’m telling you and perhaps -you’ll believe what I say if it’s against myself. -She hated me, and I wouldn’t let her alone. My -wife was jealous. Do you see—is it clear? Oh, -we’re in damned bad, my wife and I, but we’re not -in so bad as you’re trying to make out.” He -jumped to his feet, the shine of sweat on his forehead.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t see, Mr. Stokes,” said Rawson quietly, -“where you get that. We haven’t made out anything -yet.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I can see. We were the only people outside -the house—that’s enough to build a theory -on. And motives—who had a motive? That’s -the way you go to work. Find a motive, fit some -one to it. My wife had a motive, that’s sufficient. -Don’t ask what kind of woman she is, don’t look -any further, you have to get some one and she’s -the easiest. Christ!” he cried, throwing out his -arms with a dramatic gesture, “it would make the -gods laugh!”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Stokes, if you’d take this calmly——”</p> - -<p>“Calmly! Seeing what you think and where -you’re trying to land us! But just let me ask -you something.” He thrust his head forward, the -chin advanced, the eyebrows in arched semicircles -rising almost to his hair. “Do you happen to -remember there were five hundred people on the -island that afternoon? Any kind of person could -have been here on any kind of errand.”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></p> -<p>Rawson answered with a slight show of impatience:</p> - -<p>“Just leave our business to us, Mr. Stokes. -You’re here to answer questions.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that’s plain—questions all pointing one -way. But there were other people on the island -besides that crowd—besides us—who might have -had a motive. Isn’t anger a motive?”</p> - -<p>He projected the sentence with a malevolent -force, the words enunciated with an actor’s incisive -diction.</p> - -<p>“Anger!” ejaculated Williams. “Where does -that come in?”</p> - -<p>“Here, on Gull Island. Oh, we’ve had more -than jealousy. Rage and spite will go as far. -Take your eyes off my wife and me for a moment—look -somewhere else.”</p> - -<p>Rawson’s face showed no surprise, blankly -inscrutable, but Williams wheeled in his chair and -turned an expression of startled inquiry on Bassett. -Bassett, in his turn, was staring in astonishment -at Stokes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span></p> - -<p>“What are you talking about?” he said. “Rage -and spite—whom do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I mean Joe Tracy,” was the answer.</p> - -<p>“Joe Tracy!” exclaimed Williams, looking -vaguely about in a baffled searching of memory. -“Who’s he?”</p> - -<p>“Good God, Aleck!” Bassett made a step forward: -“Get a hold on yourself—think of what -you’re saying. He wasn’t here, he’d left the island -before that.”</p> - -<p>Stokes paid no attention but went on, glaring -into Rawson’s expressionless face:</p> - -<p>“A damned devil of a boy with a record. Ask -him,” he pointed to Bassett, “ask any of them -what kind he was and how he acted here. It isn’t -I alone that saw it. Yesterday morning at the -rehearsal he’d have struck her if Bassett hadn’t -interfered. What was the matter—I don’t know. -I don’t pretend to know everything, but I know -rage and hate when I see them.”</p> - -<p>“Aleck, you’re crazy,” Bassett’s voice was -raised in exasperated insistence: “He’d <i>gone</i>.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span></p> - -<p>“Couldn’t he come back? Aren’t there boats -to be hired at Hayworth?” He turned to Rawson. -“I don’t accuse him, I’m not like you, I don’t -jump at conclusions, point and say ‘There’s the -murderer!’ But I want a square deal and I won’t -get it till you’ve looked up Joe Tracy. Call -your dogs back from the scent they’re on and put -them on his. Justice—that’s all I ask for—justice -for my wife. For myself——” He stopped. -His excitement seemed suddenly to die. He looked -old and wearied, his body relaxed, the fire in his -sunken eyes extinguished in a profound gloom. -“It doesn’t matter what happens to me. I’ve -thrown everything away—and Sybil’s dead.”</p> - -<p>There was a slight pause. Rawson broke it, -clearing his throat and rising from his chair:</p> - -<p>“That’s enough for the time being, Mr. Stokes. -You can go now, if we want you we’ll call on you -later!”</p> - -<p>Without a word Stokes turned and left the -room. When the door had closed on him Bassett -said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p> - -<p>“He’s out of his mind—Joe Tracy—when he -knows he wasn’t here.”</p> - -<p>Williams gave a bearish shrug:</p> - -<p>“Oh, pshaw, what’s the matter with him’s easy -to size up. Breaking down, losing his nerve. -Whether he knows his wife did it or not he sees -everything points there and he’s just laying hold -of anything to mark time. They go like that—I’ve -seen ’em before.”</p> - -<p>Rawson, who had been standing with his hands -deep in his pockets and his eyes fixed on the floor, -moved to the chair:</p> - -<p>“Let’s hear about this boy, Mr. Bassett—all -this anger and hate business he’s been buzzing -round.”</p> - -<p>He sat down and lit a cigar. Through the -smoke he watched Bassett with a narrowed glance -as the director unfolded the story of Joe, the -quarrel and Sybil’s accusation.</p> - -<p>When it was over Rawson knocked the ash from -his cigar, meditatively looking at the crumbling -gray heap:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p> - -<p>“Are you under the impression, Mr. Bassett, -that her story was true—that the boy <i>had</i> been -spying on her?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know. Of course she was in a high-keyed -emotional state that might engender unjust -suspicions. On the other hand you couldn’t -trust his word, and there was big money offered.”</p> - -<p>“And when you returned to New York you -would have found it out.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I told him that.”</p> - -<p>“And he would have realized that it would go -hard with him, where you were concerned, and -with the rest of the profession?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, he’d know. She was very popular and -there was a general sympathy for her. Any one -acting against her interests would have met with -a pretty cold reception.”</p> - -<p>Williams stretched and rose from his chair:</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s all right to gather up everything, -but it doesn’t get us any further. If the boy’d -been here, seeing what he was and how he felt, -there might be something in it. But as he got out -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>before the shooting it leaves us just where we -were before. What do you think about going up -and looking over that top story—routine business -we ought to get through.”</p> - -<p>“Not now,” Rawson moved to the door. “I’m -going across to the mainland.”</p> - -<p>“Mainland—what’s that for?”</p> - -<p>“Look up some things—that boy’s movements -for one. I’ll take Patrick and the launch and -send him right back. The causeway’s covered so -we don’t need him there. If Mr. Driscoll ever -wanted to sell this place I’d recommend it for a -penitentiary, save the state some money, only -want guards twice in twenty-four hours. Come -down to the dock with me, Mr. Bassett, and tell -me which way Tracy was going.”</p> - -<p>Bassett went with him feeling for the first time -that he could give information with the tranquillizing -assurance it would react on nobody. When -he left Rawson at the dock he went to look for -Anne.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">To the</span> outside eye Anne had presented no -more dolorous and dejected an aspect than any of -the others. If she could not eat, neither could -they, and if she sat sunk in somber gloom they -either did the same or gave expression to their -nerve-wracked state by breathless outbursts of -speech. No one, not even Bassett, noticed that -Anne’s demeanor was in any way other than what -might have been expected.</p> - -<p>Had they been able to see into her mind the -group at Gull Island would have received its second -staggering shock.</p> - -<p>She kept as much to herself as she could without -rousing curiosity. She had to think and to -be alone where she would focus her thoughts, hold -them trained on what she knew and what might -develop. She wanted to keep her mind on the -main issue, inhibit any fruitless speculations, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span>wait and be ready. Joe was on the island and -with the guarded causeway would stay on the -island till after they had gone. Her hope, giving -her strength to go through the automatic actions -of behavior, was, that suspicion not being directed -to him, he could lie hidden till they left and then -make his get-a-way. She knew that Gabriel had -gone to White Beach for a week’s deep-sea fishing, -and Gabriel was the one person besides herself -who knew that Joe had not crossed to the -mainland. They surely would be moved away before -a week and if, during that time, the belief -that he had gone remained unshaken, he was safe.</p> - -<p>So far she was confident that no suspicion had -touched him. She did not see how it could. They -were all satisfied that he had left, her answer to -Rawson had been accepted in good faith. There -would be no investigating of his movements for -there would be no reason for doing it. He had -passed outside the circle of the tragedy, was -eliminated as the actors were who had gone on the -earlier boat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span></p> - -<p>If they didn’t find him!</p> - -<p>Where was he? He had entered the living-room -by the door that led to the kitchen wing and -rear staircase. That would look as if he was in -the house. But she knew that no doors were -locked on Gull Island and that he might have -come from outside, choosing a passage through -the darkened building rather than expose himself -to the moonlight. If he was in the house he must -be in the vacant top story and she was certain—every -sound of heavy footsteps had been noted by -her listening ears—that the men had not been -there yet. That would argue that they felt no -need of hurry. Were they taking things in a leisurely -way because of their assurance that no one -could escape, or were they so convinced they had -their quarry that no further search was necessary? -What conclusions were they coming to -behind the closed doors of the library—had they -fixed on some one of the party, the obvious ones, -Flora or Stokes?</p> - -<p>She checked these disintegrating surmises, drew -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span>her mind back with a fierce tug of will. That -would come later. If Joe got away she would tell, -confess it all, go to jail. It didn’t matter, what -happened then. Only what was here before her -counted now.</p> - -<p>When the search of the island started she went -up to the side of the gallery that skirted the line -of windows. From there she could command the -whole seaward sweep of its ten acres. She would -be alone here, secure against intrusion; she could -drop her mask, let her face show what it might, -not watch from beneath her eyelids for the questioning -looks she dreaded.</p> - -<p>The group of men came into her line of vision, -moving across the flat land between the house and -the ocean. She sat crouched, watching with set -jaw. Presently they dropped over the edges of -the cliffs, then inarticulate surges of prayer rose -in her, blind pleadings; and, her hands clasped -against her breast, she rocked back and forth as -if in unassuagable pain. But they always reappeared -without him, went down again, came up, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>scrambling through the stony mouths of ravines—always -without him. When they returned -to the house, she fell back in the chair, her eyes -closed, whispering broken words of thanksgiving.</p> - -<p>With her breath and her voice under control -she went down-stairs. She knew now that he must -be in the house.</p> - -<p>After lunch she drifted out on the balcony with -the others and from there saw Bassett and the -two officers of the law go down the path to the -pine grove. Following Sybil’s movements on the -Point—that would take them some time. Mrs. -Cornell said she was going to the kitchen to help -Miss Pinkney (if it wasn’t for that work she -thought she’d go crazy), and she advised Anne to -go up-stairs and lie down.</p> - -<p>“You look like the wrath of God, honey,” she -said, hooking her hand through Anne’s arm and -drawing her with her. “You can’t sleep, no one -expects that of you. But stretch out on the bed -and relax—you get some sort of rest that way.”</p> - -<p>Anne went with her, Mrs. Cornell’s step dropping<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span> -to a crawling pace as they crossed the living-room, -her arm drawing Anne closer, her hearty -voice dwindled to a whisper:</p> - -<p>“Do you know anything?”</p> - -<p>“No, how should I?”</p> - -<p>“I listen all I can but they’re as tight as clams -when we’re around. I think they’ve got a hungry -sort of look as if they were on some trail. Haven’t -you noticed it?”</p> - -<p>Anne hadn’t noticed anything.</p> - -<p>“Well, I have. I sit there slumped together and -acting helpless, but I’m not like the Foolish Virgins—my -lamps are lit.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think they have any one in mind?”</p> - -<p>“They have two, dearie, as we all have.” They -had reached the door and she opened it warily. -“And one moment I’m thinking it’s one and the -next moment I’m thinking it’s the other and the -third moment I’m thinking it’s neither of them.”</p> - -<p>They passed through the doorway and went -down the hall, stopping at the foot of the stairs. -Mrs. Cornell offered a last consoling word:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span></p> - -<p>“You can be thankful for one thing, Anne, Joe’s -not being here.”</p> - -<p>“Joe?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not saying he had anything to do with -it. But these cases—you read about them in the -papers. Every little thing traced up. And she -and Joe having been at loggerheads they’d be -pouncing on that—not telling you anything, sending -up your blood pressure with their questions. -You’re spared that and it’s worth keeping your -mind on. Nothing so bad but what it might be -worse.”</p> - -<p>She went on down the hall. Anne, on the stairs, -waited till she heard the sound of the opening door -and Miss Pinkney’s welcoming voice, then she stole -upward very softly. She did not go to her room -as Mrs. Cornell had advised, but tiptoed to the -end of the hall where the staircase led to the top -story.</p> - -<p>She ascended with delicate carefulness letting -her weight come gradually on each step. Despite -her precautions the boards creaked. The sounds -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span>seemed portentously loud in the deep quiet and -she stopped for the silence to absorb them, and -then, with chary foot, went on. At the top she -stood, subduing her deep-drawn breaths, looking, -listening.</p> - -<p>The middle of the floor was occupied by a spacious -central hall furnished as a parlor and lit by -a skylight. Giving on it were numerous small -bedrooms, the doors open. They were like rows -of neat little cells, all the same, bed, dresser, rocking-chair, -with a white curtained window in the -outer wall. The windows were open, the sashes -raised half-way, and the fresh sweet air passing -through fanned the muslin curtains back and -forth in curved transparencies. Anne remembered -Miss Pinkney saying something about opening the -top-floor windows to air the servants’ quarters -before the house was closed for the season.</p> - -<p>The stirrings of the curtains, billowing out and -drooping, were the only movements in the place. -She moved to the middle of the room and sent her -voice out in a whisper:</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span></p> -<p>“Joe, Joe—are you here? It’s Anne.”</p> - -<p>Her ears were strained for an answering whisper, -her eyes swept about for a shape creeping -into view, but the silence was unbroken, the emptiness -undisturbed. She entered the rooms, peered -about, opened cupboards, looked for signs of -occupation. Again nothing—vacancy, dust in a -film on the bureau tops, beds untouched in meticulous -smoothness.</p> - -<p>One door was closed, near the stair-head. -Opening this she looked into a store-room, a large, -dark interior lit by two small windows. They -were dust grimed, and the light came in dimly, -showing upturned trunks and boxes, pieces of furniture, -lines of clothes hanging on the walls.</p> - -<p>“Here,” she thought, and with her heart leaping -in her throat, crossed the threshold:</p> - -<p>“Joe, it’s Anne. I’ve come to help you.”</p> - -<p>Nothing stirred in the encumbered space, no -stealthy body detached itself from the shadows.</p> - -<p>“Oh, answer me if you’re there!” Her voice -rose the shade of a tone. It came back from the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>raftered roof in smothered supplication; the -silence it had severed closed again, deep and -secretive.</p> - -<p>She feared to stay longer and slipped, wraith-like, -down the stairs. In her room she sat down -and considered. He must have been there. Where -else could he be unless in one of the unoccupied -apartments in the lower floors. But he hardly -would have dared that with people coming and -going. He had been afraid, doubted her as he had -always done, or possibly found a hiding-place too -shut away for her whisper to penetrate. To-night -she would have to get food to him, take it up when -the men were in the library and the others safe in -their rooms.</p> - -<p>She could do nothing more and went down-stairs -in the hope of seeing Bassett. Since morning -she had longed for a word with him. Through -the darkling obsession of her fears he loomed as -the one loved and familiar being in a world where -she fared in solitary dread. Not that she had any -idea of telling him, the direful secret was hers -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>alone to be confessed later on some awful day of -reckoning and retribution. But she wanted to see -him, get courage from his presence, feel the solace -of his arm about her. She was so lonely with her -intolerable burden.</p> - -<p>The living-room was empty, but listening at the -hall door she heard the murmur of men’s voices in -the library. They were in conference again and -might be long. She passed out into the garden -and sank down on one of the benches. The air -had grown chilly and a little wandering breeze -was abroad. It moved among the flowers and -sent shivers down the great wisteria vine trained -up the house wall and ascending to the chimneys. -She looked at it, its drooping foliage; stirred by -a quivering unrest, showing the fibrous branches -intertwined like ropes—an old vine such as city -dwellers seldom see. She tried to fix her attention -on it, picturing it when the blossoms hung in -lilac cascades, a riot of color from ground to roof. -But her mind was like the needle in the compass, -inevitably swinging back to the same point.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p> -<p>There were clouds in the sky, hurrying white -masses driving inland and carrying the breath of -fog. They had blotted out the sun and were -sweeping their torn edges over the blue. If they -kept on it would be dark to-night—no moon—but -there was the man at the causeway.</p> - -<p>She sat with drooped head immersed in thought, -her hands thrust into the pockets of her sweater. -It was thus that Bassett found her. Life leaped -into her face at his voice and she stretched a hand -toward him.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ve been hoping to see you,” she breathed, -already trained to a low wariness of tone.</p> - -<p>The words, the gesture, pierced his heart. She -looked so disconsolate, so wan, her face the pallor -of ivory, her black hair always shining smooth, -pushed back from her brow in roughened strands. -He had charged himself to keep from her any -knowledge of the interest in Joe, but had he been -of the loose-tongued sort that unburdened itself, -the sight of her devastated beauty would have -sealed his lips.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span></p> - -<p>He sat down beside her and took her hand in -his. In her turn she had been shocked by his appearance, -worn, his ruddy firm-fleshed face riven with lines.</p> - -<p>“I thought I was never going to get a word with -you,” he said. “This is the first moment I’ve had. -How are you?”</p> - -<p>She asserted her well-being, and he studied her -face with anxious eyes.</p> - -<p>“Dear Anne,” he murmured, and lifting her -hand, pressed it to his lips. The two hands remained -together, the woman’s upcurled inside the -man’s enveloping grasp.</p> - -<p>“That faint feeling last night, I suppose that -will bleach you out for a while?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m all over that. It was a crazy thing -for me to do, going down and then knocking the -lamp over. They didn’t think anything of it, did -they?”</p> - -<p>“Anything of it? Why no, what would they -think? You explained it to them and they were -satisfied with what you said. And afterward I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>told Williams that he could absolutely trust your -word.”</p> - -<p>“I gave a great deal of trouble and——” Her -voice was husky and she cleared her throat. He -was worried by the coldness of her hand and -sought to warm it by enclosing it more tightly in -his. After a moment she went on:</p> - -<p>“I suppose you can’t tell me anything—anything -of what they’re doing?”</p> - -<p>“No. It’s all a mess so far—feeling about in -the dark—nothing sure.”</p> - -<p>“But they must be feeling about after some -one?”</p> - -<p>“Darling, what’s the good of talking about it? -It’s only going round and round the same subject -like a squirrel in a cage. We don’t get many -minutes together and we don’t want to spoil them. -Let’s try to forget just while we’re here.”</p> - -<p>“Forget!” she exclaimed. “Nothing would -make me do that but being dead myself.”</p> - -<p>She leaned her head on his shoulder and drew -her hand from his to clasp it round his arm. He -said nothing for a moment, perturbed by her -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span>words and tone. He had thought of getting her -away, having her moved to Hayworth. Now he -felt he must do it at once, the shadow of the -tragedy was too dark on her spirit.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got to get her out of here if I go to jail -for it,” he said to himself. “She can’t stand much -more of this.”</p> - -<p>She too was silent for a space, stilled by the attack -of a sudden temptation. His tenderness had -weakened her, the gulf between them seemed too -much to bear when the way was so perilous to -travel alone. She wanted to be close to him again, -break down the barriers and extend her arms to -him for succor and support. He would calm the -upwellings of terror that rose in her, perhaps -have some man’s solution for her desperate problem. -The desire to tell him gripped her, undermined -her will like a disintegrating drug. She did -not dare to broach it suddenly, sense enough remained -in her to go carefully, step by step.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if any one here <i>does</i> know something -and is keeping it back.”</p> - -<p>“It may be—too frightened to speak.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span></p> - -<p>“Well, if they did—I mean something that -looks suspicious, might be a help—they’d be -expected to tell, wouldn’t they?”</p> - -<p>“If it were anything definite. Just to take up -their time with a lot of vague surmises is the last -thing they want. People get stampeded in a case -like this, butt in with all sorts of silly leads and -theories.” He gave her an uneasy side glance. -“Are you imagining that you know something you -ought to tell?”</p> - -<p>“No, oh, no. But I keep thinking of it, all -kinds of possibilities.”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you stop thinking of it? I wish you -would.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Hugh, how can any one? It fills up your -mind so that nothing else can get in. It would be -so terrible to have to confess something against -another person.”</p> - -<p>He nodded and murmured, “Terrible, all right.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how one could do it. Now, you, if -you were in that position—had suspicions of -some one?”</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span></p> -<p>“I don’t tell them, that’s not my province. I’m -here to assist, not to direct them.”</p> - -<p>“Just say what you’re sure of?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. What I know, what I can vouch for -as fact. I wish to God I <i>could</i> furnish some that -would lead us in the right direction.”</p> - -<p>She said nothing, her cheek against his shoulder, -her head bent down till her face was hidden -from him. He looked at the grass at his feet in -harassed survey of his obligation:</p> - -<p>“I’m the only person here they know anything -about, that they care to trust. It’s a devilish -position, trying to hide what you think, trying to -state only what you know, fairly, without personal -feeling or prejudice. But it’s up to me to -do it till we round up something. I don’t want to -get anybody in wrong, but, good lord, if I knew -any one was—didn’t guess, was <i>sure</i> of it—I’d -give the information up just as quick as I could -get across to that library.”</p> - -<p>Her hope was over and she saw now how wild it -had been. With a heart like stone she sat by him, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>feeling the contact of his body, his arm pressed -against her side, knowing herself as far removed -from his comfort and help as though an ocean lay -between them.</p> - -<p>The light in the garden was fading, an even soft -dusk was gathering. There were no splendors of -sunset to-night, day was dying without ceremonial -rites. The hurrying clouds had thickened -and were a sagging gray pall with rays of fog -drifting below. Suddenly the doorway of the living-room -sprang into the dimness, an illumined -square, and Miss Pinkney was visible moving -about lighting the lamps.</p> - -<p>“No moon to-night,” said Bassett, and getting -up, drew her to her feet. “Come, let’s go in. It’s -too chilly for you out here.”</p> - -<p>It was not till they had gathered round the -supper table that Rawson’s absence was revealed. -Miss Pinkney, coming in with the teapot, saw the -empty chair and frowned. Though subdued, her -spirit was not broken, and she could not tamely -submit to these minions of the law disregarding -the meal hours.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span></p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Rawson coming to his supper?” she -remarked with an acid note.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rawson’s away on business,” Williams -answered. “You can keep something for him.”</p> - -<p>No more was said and the meal proceeded on its -dismal way.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">After</span> supper Bassett and Williams retired to -the library. They were surprised and intrigued -by the length of Rawson’s absence. He had been -gone over two hours and what could have held him -on the mainland so long was difficult to imagine -unless a new lead had developed. This was Bassett’s -idea, also his hope. To have suspicion -lifted from Flora would be the first lightening of -the grinding distress he had felt since the murder. -Williams wondered if he could have come on anything -about Joe Tracy; but Bassett shook the -suggestion off with a shrug. He could check up -on Joe in half an hour; besides, there was nothing -to be looked for in that line. His confidence was -not assumed, his mind was untroubled by any -fears about Joe. That something had turned up -which might head the chase in a new direction was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>so encouraging a thought, that, by contrast to his -sensations for the last twenty-four hours, he felt -almost cheerful.</p> - -<p>In the relaxation of the strain he was conscious -of fatigue for the first time. He threw himself -on the sofa and in a moment had sunk into the -deep deathlike sleep of exhaustion. Williams, -sitting near the telephone also nodded, his big -body sagged together in the chair, his chin embedded -in his chest.</p> - -<p>The group in the living-room, viewed by the -uninformed spectator, might have been the usual -evening gathering of an informal Gull Island -house-party. They had shut the garden door -against draughts and with the inland entrance -open wide the place was scented with a sharp sea -tang and cool with the breath of the ocean. The -tide, full-brimming, lay a dark circle about them, -no moonlit path or silvered eddies to-night, the -channel a solid swath of black between them and -the clustering shore lights.</p> - -<p>They made a deceptively quiet picture, pleasant,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span> -agreeable-looking people resting in reposeful -attitudes after a day in the open air. Shine was -looking at a book of engravings spread on the end -of the table. Mrs. Cornell had brought in Miss -Pinkney after the business of washing up—Mrs. -Cornell found Miss Pinkney’s society so fortifying -that she sought it at all hours—and together they -made a feint of playing a double solitaire. Anne -and Flora sat near by reclining in armchairs, both -silent, with the fixed eyes of preoccupation. -Stokes was the sole member of the company whose -inner unrest broke out in movement. He paced -back and forth before the fireplace, quick long -strides over the bear rug to the hall door and back -again. Once or twice the edge of the rug caught -his toe and he kicked it out of his way with a -violent angry jerk of his foot.</p> - -<p>When the minutes ticked away and no one came -to overlook or overhear, a cautious trickle of talk -began to flow. Question and answer crossed, low-toned, -interrupted by warning looks at the hall -door. Where had Rawson gone, what could he be -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>after? That the question lay uppermost in all -their minds was shown by the quick response to -the first, murmured tentative, the comprehension -of sentences left unfinished with only the query in -the eyes to point their meaning. The drooping -attitudes gave place to a tense eagerness of pose, -heads thrust forward on craned necks. Shine forgot -his book, the cards lay scattered beneath the -hands of Mrs. Cornell and Miss Pinkney, and -Flora edged her chair closer. Their voices, -hushed by fears, were fused in a murmurous hum, -rising as the subject swept their interest higher, -checked in sudden minutes of listening alarm.</p> - -<p>Rawson must have got hold of some information, -gone afield on a new clue. Then followed -speculations, surmises, suggestions—wild, fantastic, -probable. It might have been nothing Shine -thought, simply a trip to the county-seat on business -connected with the case. At this Anne crept -into the circle of lamplight, nodding an avid -agreement. Stokes coming forward caught his -foot in the edge of the bear rug, stumbled and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>broke into a stream of curses. Miss Pinkney, who -thought oaths anywhere reprehensible and on Gull -Island profanation, grimly bade him lift his feet. -He glared at her, more curses imminent, and Flora -groaned, clutching the arms of her chair and rolling -her eyes upward.</p> - -<p>“For God’s sake don’t mind anything anybody -says,” implored Mrs. Cornell slapping her hands -down among the cards. “This is a murder case, -not a social function.”</p> - -<p>They calmed down and presently, with no more -ideas to exchange, grew silent listening for the -returning launch. It was a listening so wrapt -that the room became as still as a picture and -they as motionless as pictured figures. The ticking -of the clock was audible, the sucking clinking -sounds of the water along the shore. The significance -of what they awaited grew with the minutes -till the coming of the launch seemed an event -of fearful import upon which their fates hung.</p> - -<p>The entrance of Williams shook them from -their terrors. If his face told them nothing, his -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span>manner was kindly gruff—they must be tired, best -thing for them to go to bed. As they rose and -trailed limply to the doors he beckoned Shine to -remain. He would want him later, had a job for -him, so he’d better go now and get some sleep. -His room was on that floor, the butler’s? All -right, he’d find him. Shine departed, grateful. -He was half-dead with sleep, but had kept it hidden -as he had his hunger, regarding both as unmanly -weaknesses in the hour of calamity.</p> - -<p>Williams went back to the library where Bassett -still slept. He looked at his watch—a quarter -to nine. He couldn’t understand it—what -could Rawson have got hold of on the mainland -when it was as plain as printing Mrs. Stokes was -the guilty party. He started and moved to the -window; the throbbing beat of an engine came -through the silence, a low spark of light was advancing -from the opposite shore.</p> - -<p>When he heard the boat grinding against the -wharf he waked Bassett.</p> - -<p>“Rawson’s coming. And it’s nearly nine.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span></p> - -<p>Rawson came in by the window, his eyes blinking -in the room’s brightness. He came briskly, -with something of theatrical effect in his silent -entrance, his purposeful walk to the desk. Bassett -at once noticed a change in him, a suggestion -of enhanced forces, of faculties recharged with -energy. He tried to look stern but satisfaction -shone in his eyes and lit his long lantern-jawed -face. He was like the bearer of good tidings who -would have worn the high smile of triumph if a -smile were fitting.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said Williams, “where the devil have -you been?”</p> - -<p>“Down the coast, twenty-five miles, on roads -that would have put anything but a flivver out of -commission.”</p> - -<p>“You got something?”</p> - -<p>“I did—this time. We’re on the right track -now if I’m not much mistaken.”</p> - -<p>Williams gave an incredulous grunt. He did -not believe in new material and in advance placed -himself in stubborn opposition:</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span></p> -<p>“What did you go down the coast for?”</p> - -<p>“To find a man called Gabriel Harvey.”</p> - -<p>Bassett, about to sit down, stopped in surprise:</p> - -<p>“Gabriel Harvey?— That’s our launchman.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly. And I had a devil of a time to find -him. Down in a place called White Beach, hidden -away with friends in a shack without a telephone.”</p> - -<p>“But why——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you.” Rawson dropped into the desk -chair, and, his elbows on the arms, leaned forward, -his eyes behind their glasses traveling from one -face to the other. “I went over there to look into -Joe Tracy’s movements. I couldn’t find any one -who’d seen him come ashore and learned that the -man Gabriel who took him over, had gone to this -place White Beach for deep-sea fishing. Not -being able to get hold of him I went to the station -to see if I could gather up anything. And I did. -The baggage man told me Gabriel had been there -before he left for White Beach leaving a suit-case -and fishing-rod to be held till Tracy called for -them. They’re there now. I saw them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span></p> - -<p>Williams said nothing, not ready with argument -till more was divulged. Bassett, in blank -amazement, ejaculated:</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s the most extraordinary -thing——”</p> - -<p>“Wait, Mr. Bassett,” Rawson raised a long -commanding hand. “I hung round till the evening -train came in; that’s the train Tracy was to -take. I saw the conductor—it’s a small branch -road and travel is light at that hour—and he remembered -his passengers, two women and a child. -Those were the only people who left Hayworth on -the seven-fifteen, the last evening train. I went -back to the village and made inquiries. Tracy -had hired no vehicle at the garage or livery stable, -nor had he been seen anywhere about the place. -Then I got a car and went to White Beach. I -was some time locating the old chap, but I finally -ran him down. He said he had not taken Tracy -across to the mainland last night.”</p> - -<p>Rawson dropped back in his chair. In answer -to Bassett’s expression he nodded soberly:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s a pretty queer business. Gabriel -said he’d told the boy to be on time; made it clear -to him that he wouldn’t wait. When Tracy was -not on the wharf he went to the house to look for -him, saw his bag and fishing-rod in the doorway -and took them. No one was about and he left—not -sorry, I inferred from what he said, to give -‘the young cub’ as he called him, a lesson.”</p> - -<p>Bassett got up:</p> - -<p>“But it’s incomprehensible,” he exclaimed. “I -can’t make head nor tail of it. No one ever questioned -that he’d gone.”</p> - -<p>“No one said they’d seen him go but his sister,” -came from Williams.</p> - -<p>Bassett wheeled on him:</p> - -<p>“Yes, you asked her. Didn’t she say she’d seen -him?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Rawson’s voice was dryly quiet. “I’ve -thought of that. What she said was that he went. -In all fairness to her she probably thought so—took -it for granted as you all did—that he’d -gone.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span></p> - -<p>“But why? What’s the meaning of it? If he’d -missed the boat he’d have turned up, he’d be here -now.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, he didn’t miss the boat,” said Rawson.</p> - -<p>“Well, then, what was he doing? What made -him stay?” In the turmoil of his amazement, this -sudden precipitation of a new mystery, Bassett -had not yet grasped the sinister trend of the other’s -thoughts.</p> - -<p>“Why,” said Rawson slowly, “he might have -been staying for a purpose.”</p> - -<p>“What purpose?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you imagine a purpose, Mr. Bassett?”</p> - -<p>“Good God, you don’t mean to say you think he -<i>did it</i>?”</p> - -<p>“I’m not saying anything yet. But I’d like you -to tell me how you explain it. He says he’s going, -leads every one to think he’s going, makes all the -preparations for his departure, then secretly, -without divulging any change of plans, doesn’t go. -Aren’t those actions—well to put it mildly—questionable?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</span></p> - -<p>“Yes—the whole thing’s inexplicable as we see -it now.”</p> - -<p>“And note this. He had cause for anger -against Miss Saunders—she’d given him away to -you—and you yourself have told us that he had -an ungovernable temper.”</p> - -<p>“He had a devilish temper and a damned mean -disposition and I make no doubt he was blazing -mad with her. But that he’d go to work to kill -her in cold blood, lay in wait for her—no—you -can’t make me think that.”</p> - -<p>“Same here,” said Williams. “You ain’t got -enough provocation. With Mrs. Stokes you -have—a woman jealous of her husband.”</p> - -<p>“And you’ve got a man,” retorted Rawson, -“moved by one of the passions that lead oftenest -to murder—revenge.”</p> - -<p>“Revenge?” echoed Williams.</p> - -<p>“Miss Saunders’ accusation, if true,—and I -think it was,—would ruin him in his profession. -He learned what she’d done to him just before he -was due to leave.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</span></p> - -<p>A chill passed through Bassett—revenge was a -word that fitted Joe. But he cast the thought -out, moving away from the desk and exclaiming -with angry repudiation:</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s unthinkable, preposterous.”</p> - -<p>“What but an evil intention could have made -him act as he did?”</p> - -<p>“Any number of things. It may be a prank—a -practical joke we’ll get an explanation of later. -He may have invented the story of his fishing trip -and gone off with a girl.”</p> - -<p>“Had he a girl?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know—also he may have done something -dishonest, got in wrong some way—he was -capable of it, I’m not defending him—and been -frightened and lit out.”</p> - -<p>“How did he get off?”</p> - -<p>Bassett’s voice was raised in his exasperation:</p> - -<p>“Good lord, Rawson, we weren’t jailed here -then. He could have had a boat hidden in one of -the coves. This place wasn’t escape-proof till you -turned up. He could have rowed ashore and -landed anywhere, and that’s what he’s done.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</span></p> - -<p>“Unless he’s here.”</p> - -<p>“Here on the island?”</p> - -<p>“That’s my opinion, in hiding on the island.”</p> - -<p>Williams spoke with an air of patient reminder:</p> - -<p>“Ain’t we gone over it with a fine-tooth comb?”</p> - -<p>Rawson pointed to the ceiling:</p> - -<p>“How about that top story? A person—we -won’t say who—could have killed the woman, entered -the house while the rest of you were on the -beach, put back the pistol, and gone up-stairs.”</p> - -<p>Williams made a motion to heave himself up -from his chair.</p> - -<p>“Well, if that’s how you feel about it let’s go up -and have a look for the person.”</p> - -<p>“We needn’t do that just now. They’re as safe -as if they were behind bars. There’s something I -want to do down here first—have a talk with Miss -Tracy. She may be able to give us a little light.”</p> - -<p>“She can’t help you,” said Bassett. “They -weren’t on confidential terms. She’d be the last -person he’d tell anything to.”</p> - -<p>He believed what he said, but his heart sank. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</span>Anne to be dragged through another interrogation, -an interrogation with a hideous suspicion behind -it!</p> - -<p>Rawson rose:</p> - -<p>“Perhaps so, but it’s worth trying. She may -know more than you think; sisters sometimes do. -And she certainly must have more knowledge of -him than any of us. We’ll soon see.”</p> - -<p>He moved toward the door.</p> - -<p>“I’ll go up and get her now.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XV">XV</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> Anne went up to her room she took a -seat by the window where she could see the channel. -It was an undecipherable blackness, its farther -limit defined by the shore lights. But the -night was very still, the sagging weight of cloud -hung low pressing down sounds. She could hear -the barking of dogs, the cries of children, a snatch -of song from the mainland. In this intense quiet -the first explosive throbs of a starting launch -would be carried clearly across the sounding -board of the water.</p> - -<p>She kept telling herself that Rawson’s absence -had nothing to do with Joe. She had been telling -herself the same thing ever since Williams’ remark -at supper. She gave her reasons for thinking so, -as if she were trying to convince an adversary who -was maintaining an opposing position. It was as -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</span>Shine had said, Rawson had gone on some business -they knew nothing of. There must be endless -business connected with such a case. She remembered -murder cases she had read of in the papers—accounts -of false leads, trails picked up -and dropped, legal questions of state and county -authority.</p> - -<p>Then across the water, running along the surface -in stuttering reverberations, came the sound -of the launch’s engine starting. She saw the light -leave the shore and come sliding forward, moving -smoothly like a light held in a steady hand. Below -it a golden dagger stabbed down into the -glossy blackness of the current. She watched it -approaching, the inside of her mouth like leather, -her clenched hands wet.</p> - -<p>When it had disappeared round the end of the -house she faced the door and stood waiting. Her -power to argue with herself was gone—if he had -found out anything he might come for her. She -calculated his movements: in the library now, talking -with the others. A long time seemed to pass. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</span>The stifling pulsations of her heart died down, -and moving with an exquisite quietness as if any -sound she made might bridge the space and call -them running to surprise her guilty terror, she -stole to the door and opened it a crack. The living-room -was lighted but empty; they were in the -library, shut in. Again a time passed and again -her heart calmed to a slower beat. It must be -business, the business that had nothing to do with -Joe.</p> - -<p>She closed the door and decided now she might -rest, not go to bed yet, but lie down and try to get -back to courage and control. She took off her -dress and put on her negligée, and with hands -raised to loosen her hair heard a step on the -stairs. It struck upon her ear, heavy and quick, -a man’s step, and she remained as she was, her -arms lifted, her eyes staring into her reflected -eyes in the mirror. She stood thus till it stopped -at her door. When the knock came and Rawson’s -voice spoke her name, the hands dropped and she -moved to the door.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</span></p> - -<p>“Can you come down-stairs for a minute?” the -voice said, low and guarded. “I’m sorry to ask -you to get up.”</p> - -<p>She opened the door. “I hadn’t gone to bed. -Yes, of course I’ll come. You want to——”</p> - -<p>“Just ask you a few more questions. I’m glad -I didn’t wake you.”</p> - -<p>She followed him along the passage and down -the stairs. They crossed the living-room side by -side, Rawson with long strides, she with short -quick steps. There was a sense of hurry in their -progress as if they were hastening to some ominous -goal. When she entered the library her -glance fell on Bassett facing her across the room, -his brows drawn low over the dark trouble of his -eyes. His look told her of anxiety, apprehension -and a passionate concern for her. She gave it -back, feeling a desperate cold courage run to her -fainting senses.</p> - -<p>Williams indicated an armchair near the desk:</p> - -<p>“Take a seat, Miss Tracy. Sorry we’ve had to -call you down.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</span></p> - -<p>She fell into it and, as the men settled themselves -in theirs, ran her tongue along her dry lips -and took a deep breath of air into her lungs. -Then she raised her chin and looked at them, inquiringly -attentive. During the passage of the -look she laid the charge on her mind to go cautiously -and not be afraid.</p> - -<p>“We’ve been making some inquiries about your -brother, Miss Tracy,” Rawson began. “About -his leaving here. You told us, as I remember, that -you knew he went.”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes, he went.”</p> - -<p>“Did you see him go?”</p> - -<p>“Well, no, I didn’t actually <i>see</i> him, but that -wouldn’t prevent—” She stopped and looked -from one to the other of the watching faces—“What -do you mean?”</p> - -<p>She must find out what they knew before she -ventured.</p> - -<p>“Then you <i>didn’t</i> see him?”</p> - -<p>“No—I didn’t see the boat go, I was up-stairs, -but of course he went.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</span></p> - -<p>“We’ve found out that he didn’t,” said Rawson.</p> - -<p>“Didn’t go, didn’t go back with Gabriel? Wh—why—” -She swept them with an alarmed look -which fetched up on Bassett. “Why, that’s not -possible!”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rawson’s seen Gabriel.” Bassett spoke -very gently. “And he says he didn’t take Joe -over.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t understand. He was all ready. -I said good-by to him.”</p> - -<p>“When was that?”</p> - -<p>“In his room, just a little while before he went. -He was waiting there, everything packed and -ready, waiting for the boat.”</p> - -<p>“And he said nothing to you about changing -his plans?”</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t believe he had changed his plans. -It was his holiday, he’d been looking forward to -it, he was crazy to go.”</p> - -<p>“Did he make any mention of an interview he’d -had with Mr. Bassett?”</p> - -<p>“No—I don’t think he said a thing about Mr. -Bassett.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</span></p> - -<p>“And he told you he was going, wanted to go. -Was he jolly and good-humored like a person -starting on a holiday?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—why shouldn’t he be? It was what he’d -been longing to do for years. After I left him I -went to my room and dressed and when I went -down-stairs I saw that his bag and fishing-rod, -which he told me he’d left by the entrance, were -gone, and I thought of course he was. And he -has, he’s gone some other way.”</p> - -<p>Bassett looked at Rawson and murmured:</p> - -<p>“That’s the explanation.”</p> - -<p>Rawson went on without noticing:</p> - -<p>“Do you know of any adventures, schemes, he -might have had in his head that would make him -want to fool you, steal off without letting you -know?”</p> - -<p>“No, but I wouldn’t. He didn’t tell me much. -Boys don’t like their sisters interfering.”</p> - -<p>“When you saw him in his room did he say anything -about Miss Saunders?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Saunders? No—he was talking about -his trip. But what are you asking me all these -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</span>questions for? If he didn’t go the way you -thought what does it matter?”</p> - -<p>“<i>You’re</i> sure he’s gone?” Rawson’s emphasis -on the pronoun was heavy.</p> - -<p>She looked at him with startled eyes:</p> - -<p>“Yes, aren’t you? Why, you don’t think he’s -<i>here</i>?”</p> - -<p>It was evident that she had not grasped the -sinister aspect of Joe’s mysterious actions. It -struck Bassett as odd, for he knew her intelligence -and her anxious doubts of the boy. What she had -been through, shock and lack of sleep, had blunted -her perceptions. He prayed she would get -through the interview without comprehending and -he did not see how she could.</p> - -<p>“How could he be here?” she went on, that look -of naive astonishment fastened on Rawson. -“What for? And if he was—if he’d missed the -boat or changed his mind—wouldn’t he be with -us all, here among the rest of us? Of course he’s -gone—he’s on his way to the woods now where he -was going.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</span></p> - -<p>Rawson addressed Bassett:</p> - -<p>“Didn’t you tell me he was to stop to-night in -Bangor and meet his friend?”</p> - -<p>“Yes—they were to start out in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“Where were they staying?”</p> - -<p>“Some hotel, I don’t know the name. Do you -remember it, Anne?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head: “No. If he told me I’ve -forgotten. I’ve no idea what it was.”</p> - -<p>“Hold on a minute,” said Williams, stretching -out his hand. “Shine spoke to me about that. He -was asking about a hotel in Bangor young Tracy -recommended—the Algonquin Inn. That may be -it.”</p> - -<p>Rawson swung the desk chair round and drew -the telephone to him:</p> - -<p>“We can find out in a minute.”</p> - -<p>They sat without moving while Rawson made -the connection. As he spoke the two men leaned -forward, eagerly waiting, the girl drooped back -in her chair, her hands in her lap, her glance on -the floor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</span></p> - -<p>“Is there a Mr. Tracy there—Joe Tracy?” -And then a period of listening, punctuated with -grunts of assent from Rawson. Then, “Mr. -Travers has gone—left on the six-fifteen this -evening—I see.” A silent stretch and a final -“Thanks—that’s all I wanted. Much obliged.” -The receiver clicked into its hook, and Rawson -swung the chair toward them:</p> - -<p>“Travers has been there waiting since last -night. Tracy never showed up. Travers had no -message from him and left this evening for Moosehead -Lake.”</p> - -<p>For a moment there was no comment. Anne -raised her eyes, the sides of the room looked a -long way off and the light seemed to have intensified -to a violent glare as if she were sitting in -the midst of a dazzling illumination. The men’s -faces were turned to her, glazed by the radiance -like glistening masks.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what to make of that,” she said, -the words dropping slowly with spaces between.</p> - -<p>“Neither do we, Miss Tracy,” said Rawson, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</span>and leaning back, his hands clasped over his -stomach, he gazed intently at her through his -horn-rimmed glasses.</p> - -<p>The glow increased, wrapped her round in a -flame-like heat that ran along her skin in prickling -points. It shone on the lenses of Rawson’s -glasses which seemed to grow larger and come -nearer, malignly glaring.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you do,” she said and heard her voice -hoarse and changed. “You’ve made something of -it already. And what you’ve made is lies—wicked -lies.”</p> - -<p>Then she had seen it. Bassett made a step forward, -but she leaped to her feet, oblivious of him:</p> - -<p>“You think he did it, just because you can’t -find him. That’s all he’s done, gone away. You -must be crazy. What would he do it <i>for</i>? Don’t -you have to have a reason to commit murder?”</p> - -<p>Williams was sorry for her, a pallid panting -creature shaken out of her gentle semblance by an -unexpected revelation. “Come now, Miss Tracy,” -he urged. “Don’t get worked up.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</span></p> - -<p>But she paid no heed, pouring out her words at -Rawson who remained without change of position, -looking fixedly at her.</p> - -<p>“They weren’t good friends. I don’t know -why—I asked her but she wouldn’t tell me. And -what was it—a quarrel, a grievance? But that -wouldn’t make him want to <i>kill</i> her!”</p> - -<p>“I’ve told them that, Anne,” Bassett implored; -“there’s no use going over it.”</p> - -<p>She made a motion for him to keep silent and -moved nearer Rawson.</p> - -<p>“It is strange his going away like that—I’ll admit -it. But he did strange things; and does every -one always do what’s sensible and reasonable? -Because he happened to act in a way that we can’t -understand is no proof he’s a murderer. He -didn’t do it, he couldn’t have done it. And to -think that he’s here! Where would he be? -Haven’t you searched the whole island? He’s -gone, even if he didn’t meet Jimmy Travers. He’s -gone somewhere else.”</p> - -<p>Rawson leaned suddenly forward and caught -her by the wrist:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</span></p> - -<p>“What did you see last night in the living-room?”</p> - -<p>If he had meant to surprise her he failed of his -purpose. She hung back from his grip and said -with defiant emphasis:</p> - -<p>“<i>I saw nothing!</i>”</p> - -<p>“Are you sure it was a book you came down -for?”</p> - -<p>“It was a book, as I told you.”</p> - -<p>“You could read a few hours after your friend -was murdered?”</p> - -<p>“I could try to read—it was better than -thinking.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve got a pretty cool head, Miss Tracy,” -he added, and relinquished her hand. She fell back -in her chair as if his hold upon her had been all -that sustained her in an upright position. He -rose, looking down at her, curious and unsatisfied:</p> - -<p>“I guess we’ll call a halt for a while. We’ve -other work to attend to. But wait here till we -come back; we may have to do some more talking.” -He turned to Williams and gave a jerk of -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</span>his head toward the hall. “Come on, we’ll go up -there now.”</p> - -<p>He walked to the door, Williams following him. -As it shut after them Bassett went to her and bent -over her chair. She held him off with a hand on -his breast and whispered:</p> - -<p>“Where are they going?”</p> - -<p>“Up-stairs, to the top story.”</p> - -<p>She clutched the lapels of his coat:</p> - -<p>“He’s there, he’s up there.”</p> - -<p>“He—who?”</p> - -<p>“Joe!”</p> - -<p>Bassett stared into her eyes. He thought her -senses were giving way:</p> - -<p>“Anne, darling, what’s the matter? Joe’s not -here—you’ve just said so yourself.”</p> - -<p>“I said what wasn’t true—he’s there.”</p> - -<p>He caught her arms and drew her to her feet:</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?”</p> - -<p>“I know it, I’ve seen him.”</p> - -<p>“Seen Joe himself?”</p> - -<p>“Last night when I came down for the book. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</span>He’s hiding up there—I thought he was safe. -And now they’ll find him.”</p> - -<p>Bassett knew she was telling the truth. His -mind took a sweep backward over the last twenty-four -hours—she had known it all along, played a -desperate game single-handed. In flashes of retrospect -came her questions to him in the garden, -her ashen face when they had burst in upon her -the night before. The situation, accepted and -familiar, was suddenly shaken apart like the pattern -in a kaleidoscope and had fallen into another -shape, a shape so unexpected and horrible that he -stood frozen looking over her shoulder into its -unfolding dreadfulness.</p> - -<p>“What can I do—what can I do?” Her whisper -pierced to his brain and her hands jerked at -his coat in frantic urgency.</p> - -<p>“Nothing now. They’ve gone, we can’t stop -them. But tell me the rest—how did you know—tell -me everything.”</p> - -<p>“I saw the launch go without him and I was -going to speak to you, but Shine was there and I -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</span>couldn’t. Then she was killed and I didn’t know -what to think, where he’d gone, anything! But -that night I heard them say there was a man on -guard at the causeway, and I came down to tell -him in case he was here and would try to get -across. And then I saw him.”</p> - -<p>“Where?”</p> - -<p>“In the living-room. He came from the door -into the kitchen wing and I whispered it.”</p> - -<p>“Did he say anything?”</p> - -<p>“No—just ran the way he’d come in. And then -I knew—” she stopped and closed her eyes. -“Oh, I didn’t know it but I thought it. <i>Can</i> it be -true—could he have done it? One minute I’m sure -and then I can’t believe it; and I don’t know, I -don’t know.”</p> - -<p>She pressed her face against his chest and he -held her close, saying anything he could think of -that might sustain her—they knew nothing yet—it -was all guesswork—something might turn up -that would explain it. He did not believe what he -said—knowing more than she he had no doubts—and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</span> -under his words his thoughts searched wildly -for possible ways of coming to her aid.</p> - -<p>“Oh, God grant it, God grant it!” she groaned, -and drawing away from him ran to the door, and -opening it, stood listening. He followed her and -with pauses for that tense listening, she told him -of her visit to the top floor.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t answer you?” he said. “Then he -might not have been there.”</p> - -<p>“Where else could he be?”</p> - -<p>“Outside. He could see us going over the island -from one of those upper windows. After we’d -finished he could have slipped out again, knowing -he was safe there.”</p> - -<p>She saw the possibilities of this and hung on -them, left the door and conning them over, paced -about the room. Presently they could bear the -shut-in space no longer and crept through the -hall to the living-room. They stood on the threshold, -subduing their breathing that no sound might -interfere with their entranced attention. The -silence of the house lay round them like an enshrouding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</span> -essence. Far away the rhythm of the -waves came and went, faint and regular, like the -pulsing of the world’s heart tranquilly beating in -some infinitely remote realm of peace.</p> - -<p>They returned to the library and, as the minutes -passed and the strain increased, stood motionless -and dumb as statues, waiting, listening. -They felt as if everything but that room and -their suspense had ceased to exist, as if time had -stopped and this one fearful hour was to stretch -out forever.</p> - -<p>Then a sound from the distant reaches of the -house broke it—the descending feet of the men. -Bassett pulled her away from the door, closed it -and drew her to the middle of the room.</p> - -<p>“Will you help me?” she whispered. “Will you -help me whatever happens?”</p> - -<p>He nodded, there was no time now for words. -He motioned her to sit down, and moved back -from her, listening to the steps which were crossing -the living-room, entering the hall. Were -they louder than they had been going up, were -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</span>there three pair of feet where there had been two? -They stopped at the door, it opened and Rawson -and Williams entered.</p> - -<p>Williams threw an electric torch on the desk -and said to Bassett with a sardonic grin:</p> - -<p>“Nothing doing.”</p> - -<p>Rawson spoke to Anne:</p> - -<p>“You can go up-stairs, Miss Tracy. We’ll put -off the rest of our talk till to-morrow. You better -try to get some rest. And kindly remember to -stay in your room. I don’t want any mistakes -made about that to-night.”</p> - -<p>She murmured words of compliance and rising -with pale composure left the library.</p> - -<p>When the door shut on her Bassett said: “You -got nothing up there at all?”</p> - -<p>It had been difficult to frame the question. -Since they had left his position with regard to -them had undergone a horrible change. He did -not know how horrible till this first moment of -encounter when he saw them ready to meet him in -his old rôle. He felt a surge of repudiation and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</span>then heard Anne’s whisper at his ear. It drowned -the call of his conscience, was louder than the -guiding voices that had heretofore governed his -life. She was fighting alone, she had begged his -help and he was her lover.</p> - -<p>“Not a thing,” answered Rawson. “But we -were at a disadvantage; not enough light, and it’s -a good-sized place. There’s a big store-room full -of junk, messed up with stuff, and one of the electric -bulbs is broken. We couldn’t go over that -thoroughly, and he may have found a cache there. -We’ll comb it over to-morrow morning by daylight. -Of course he could have got out on the -island—all that kitchen wing’s kept open. He -might have been lying low up there all yesterday -and have come down last night.”</p> - -<p>“And his sister saw him.” Williams laughed -with good-humored derision. “You didn’t get -anything out of her, Rawson.”</p> - -<p>“No, I didn’t. She’s either a very smart young -lady, or an entirely innocent one. I’m not sure -which. But she <i>did</i> lead us to believe he’d gone -when he hadn’t, she <i>did</i> come down-stairs on a -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</span>pretty fishy errand, and she <i>did</i> forget the name -of the hotel he’d gone to. All quite possible -but—well, we’ll know to-morrow.” He walked to -the window and looked out. “Dark as a pocket!” -He turned to Bassett: “When the tide’s full out -could a person get across that channel except by -the causeway?”</p> - -<p>“There are places where they might swim the -stream in the middle. It’s a deep strong current -but a good swimmer could do it.”</p> - -<p>“He might try it—he must be pretty keen -about getting off here. You know this shore-line. -Suppose you go down and take up a station below -the boat-house among those juniper bushes. -That’s a place a person might use as a sheltered -start for a get-away. You can’t see but you can -hear. Take Williams’ gun, and if there’s a sound, -challenge, if there’s no answer, shoot. I’ll come -down with you, I want to take a look at Patrick -and I’ll stay round myself for a while.”</p> - -<p>He stepped to the sill of the window but Williams, -feeling for his revolver, stopped him:</p> - -<p>“Hold on a minute. I got an idea that I think’ll -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</span>help a bit. I’ve been thinking of it all day and if -I’m not mistaken it’ll land your man or your -woman neater and easier than lying in wait for -them outside where they know by this time we’ve -got a guard.”</p> - -<p>Rawson turned back into the room:</p> - -<p>“Let’s hear it—we want to clear this up to-night. -But, Mr. Bassett, you go on. Stop and -tell Patrick what you’re doing and see that he’s -on the job. I’ll be down with him later, unless -Williams’ idea opens up something new.”</p> - -<p>Bassett took the revolver and stepped out of -the window.</p> - -<p>The night was muffling dark; beyond the long -squares of light the windows cast, it lay a velvet -blackness, the murmurs of the falling tide issuing -from it as if it had a voice which was whispering -its secrets.</p> - -<p>The outside darkness had a reflex on his own -soul. As his body moved forward into its shadowless -density, his spirit sank deeper into an enshrouding -gloom. He saw Anne in a circling -whirlpool, being sucked nearer and nearer to the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</span>vortex. She knew Joe had never gone, had connived -at his concealment, had lied to them at every -turn—accessory after the fact. If they got the -boy there was no way of extricating her and it -was impossible that they should not get him, held -here, all means of escape cut off. To-night, at -the latest to-morrow, Joe would be haled before -them. He thought of anything he could do, any -wild act within the compass of human daring and -ingenuity, and could find nothing.</p> - -<p>He reached the boat-house and groped his way -about it to find Patrick. Coming round the angle -where the man was stationed he pronounced his -name and was surprised to get no answer. He -stretched a feeling hand which came in contact -with a large warm bulk, immovable under his -touch and giving forth a sound of heavy regular -breathing. His own breathing stifled, his movements -noiseless as a cat’s, he struck a match and -sheltering it with his curved hand, held it out. In -its glow he saw Patrick huddled on the bench, his -shoulders braced against the wall, his head -drooped forward in profound sleep.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</span></p> -<p>He dropped the match and put his foot on it. -With the extinguishing of its tiny gleam the darkness -closed blacker than before and he had to feel -for the wall behind him, drawing close against it. -The thought of his trust rose hazy in the hinterlands -of his mind like the memory of some distant -state of being in which he once had existed.</p> - -<p>Pressed against the wall, he calculated the distances -about him. The approach to the causeway -was to his right, an incline of rocky steps, -and in the stillness he could hear the lightest foot -descending them. On such a night Joe might -venture again—would venture if his nerve still -held. If he did it would be within the next hour, -and if Patrick slept and Rawson did not come he -would go by unchallenged.</p> - -<p>A fitful breeze arose, carrying sea odors. He -saw the lights in the house go out, and the darkness -close, solid and even, over where they had -been. He heard the murmurings of the tide -growing lower, fainter, till they sunk to silence -and he knew the bed of the channel was uncovered.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVI">XVI</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Williams</span> thought highly of his idea. It had -come to him that morning while thinking of the -person he had heard descending the stairs, the -person he insisted was Mrs. Stokes. In its inception -it had been directed chiefly at that lady, but -now with the mystery complicated by the intrusion -of a new figure its usefulness would be extended. -The thing that was aimed at Mrs. Stokes, -would include Joe Tracy. That was how he put -it to Rawson to gain the consent and cooperation -of his superior. For he had little interest in Joe -Tracy himself, inclining to agree with Bassett -and Anne that the boy had nothing to do with the -murder and was not on the island.</p> - -<p>It was a simple and practicable plan—a watch -kept for the rest of the night on the stairs and -certain points of exit. In the face of positive orders<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</span> -two people had come from the upper floor -the night before, Miss Tracy on an errand that -Rawson thought suspicious, Mrs. Stokes, in Williams’ -opinion, to communicate with her husband. -Even if both men were wrong some powerful incentive -was making them take such risks and it -was natural to suppose that incentive might be -strengthened after twenty-four hours of strain -and uncertainty. They might try it again, and to -catch them at it, surprise them in the act—if they -didn’t break down on the spot—a little grilling -would do the job.</p> - -<p>As for the boy—if he was still in the top story -as Rawson thought, he’d certainly not stay there -after they’d been searching the place for him. -He’d know they were on his trail, that his only -hope was getting away and the night was dark -enough to tempt him. If he was outside he’d -discover his escape was cut off and what would he -want then—food? He’d see himself faced by -starvation and the place he’d make for would be -the kitchen.</p> - -<p>Rawson looked at his assistant with an approving<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</span> -eye. The idea was good, excellent, and without -waste of time they arranged the distribution -of the watch.</p> - -<p>Williams would take the front stairs, his particular -prey was there and he had already located -the position of the electric-light button. Rawson -would station himself in the kitchen with its two -doors one to the outside, one to the hall. As Williams -had pointed out it was the place to which -Joe, escape blocked, would inevitably turn. The -living-room they would assign to Shine, less important -than either of the other ambushes, but -commanding the entrance to the side wing and -the path to the causeway and dock. Any one descending -the back stairs to make an exit from -the house would either turn to the kitchen or go -through the living-room, and whichever way -they took, would run into a trap. The men -were satisfied, each one was detailed to the spot -where he might expect to apprehend the object of -his suspicion. The living-room, central and exposed, -might safely be left to Shine.</p> - -<p>They found Shine in the butler’s room sleeping -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</span>soundly on the outside of the bed. He was acquainted -with the plan, and stumbling and heavy-eyed -followed them. In the hall Rawson left -them, taking his way to his hiding-place, the other -two faring on to the scene of Shine’s duties. Here -he received his instructions, special emphasis being -laid on the door that led to the kitchen wing and -the back stairs. Shine looked from the door to -Williams with a perplexed frown. He did not like -to admit—no more than he had liked to display -the healthy vigor of his appetite—that he was so -sleepy it was doubtful whether he could keep -awake. In this embarrassing position, when he -desired to acquit himself creditably and feared the -weakness of his flesh, he too had an idea. He did -not know if it would be acceptable and broached -it with a cautious preamble.</p> - -<p>They just wanted to know who the person was, -didn’t they? He wouldn’t have to catch them, -which would be nearly impossible in the dark and -was unnecessary as no one could get off the island. -To see them, be able to identify them, get on to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</span>who was stealing round the house, was the point. -If that was enough he’d a way of doing it, the surest -and most efficacious way it could be done, no -scrambling round the furniture, no uncertainty—he’d -set his small camera for a flashlight photograph. -The materials were all at hand, he’d -gathered them together for a flashlight picture -of the company. All he had to do was to get them -ready and if any one entered by the door he was -to watch, he’d have their number before they -knew it.</p> - -<p>Williams was interested—it was a neat trick -and tickled his fancy. As he was ignorant of the -process, Shine explained it, getting his properties -from the cabinet as he spoke. The flashlight -powder in a saucer on the table, then a double -wire extending from it to a point above the door—the -pair of antlers would answer. There the wire -would be cut, one-half hanging down from the -antlers, the other twisted round the door handle, -its end standing out. When the door was opened -the two severed ends would come in contact and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</span>make the circuit which would set off the powder. -He did not tell Williams that the taking of the -picture could be achieved whether he was asleep -or awake, but that the camera would make its record -whatever his state was an immense relief to -his mind.</p> - -<p>Williams left and he quickly completed his -preparations. The antlers served his purpose -well, the depending cord was in exactly the right -position and before he made his final adjustment -of the two wires he unloosed the latch of the door -that it might open easily and noiselessly at the -first push of a stealthy hand. Then, his camera -in place, he turned off the lights. The room was -suddenly plunged into Egyptian blackness; he had -to feel for the chair he had pulled up and grasping -the tripod, nearly upset it. Swearing under -his breath he found the arms of the chair and let -himself down upon it carefully, to avoid creaking. -The silence of the house closed round him, a silence -that was like oblivion. The darkness -showed no break as his glance traveled over it. A -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</span>solid impenetrable wall, it was hard to look at, the -eye required something to rest upon. After he -had stared into it for what seemed a measureless -stretch of time, he felt he must shut his eyes for a -moment of respite. He did so, his head drooped, -nodded, sunk, and he lay a big crumpled figure -held in the embrace of the chair.</p> - -<p>A bang—in that silence as loud as a cannon -shot—a rending burst of light, waked him. He -leaped to his feet his senses scattered, not knowing -where he was or what had happened. Then -from every side of the house noise broke, groans, -screams, slamming of doors, thudding footfalls. -It was terrifying in the darkness, like a company -of ghosts wailing and running about in some black -inferno. Williams’ voice shouted the first intelligible -words:</p> - -<p>“You got them—good work! Where the hell -are the lights?”</p> - -<p>That shook Shine into consciousness, and he -called to the gallery whence a patter of bare feet -and shrill female cries rose:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</span></p> - -<p>“It’s all right. Don’t be scared. It’s only a -flashlight.”</p> - -<p>Male voices followed, harsh and loud as the -men came rushing in:</p> - -<p>Rawson’s from the left with the crash of the -door flung back against the wall.</p> - -<p>“What are you doing in here? What was -that?”</p> - -<p>Bassett’s from the entrance, his body colliding -with furniture as he ran blindly forward. Somewhere -in the darkness behind, Stokes’ high and -choked, breaking into curses. And over all Miss -Pinkney’s riding the tumult like the war cry of -the Valkyries:</p> - -<p>“Why don’t some of you fools turn on the electricity? -The button’s on the right side of the -door.”</p> - -<p>Bassett’s hand found it and the room was -flooded with light.</p> - -<p>The women in straight white nightgowns stood -on the gallery huddled together. The dreadful -darkness lifted, they leaned over the railing, their -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</span>faces pallid between hanging locks of hair, dropping -a shower of questions on the men below. -One of them was hysterical and gave forth a sobbing -wail, and Williams shouted with angry -authority:</p> - -<p>“Keep quiet up there. Nothing’s the matter. -Didn’t you hear it was a flashlight?”</p> - -<p>Some one strangled a scream—Williams -thought it was Flora but could not be sure. Then -they made a simultaneous retreat to the bedrooms -for negligées and slippers, while the men, gathered -round Shine, listened to his explanation. No, -he’d seen nothing and heard nothing, but he’d got -the picture all right, whoever it was, he had them. -Now he’d go and develop it—he could do that in -a few minutes—and there was the projector in -the corner he could use, throw it on to something -where they’d all see. A sheet over that screen by -the desk would do. And when it’s on there, large -as life, there won’t be any use lying, there’ll be -nothing for it but to come across.</p> - -<p>They urged him out, they’d attend to everything:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</span> -hurry up with the picture. Williams was -unable to hide his elation. His idea, augmented -by Shine’s, was a bull’s-eye hit, and his voice -showed an exultant excitement as he called to Miss -Pinkney to bring a sheet. Rawson’s satisfaction -was less apparent, but his eye was alight with -anticipation. If it was the boy, he had run back -up-stairs, for no exit had been attempted through -the kitchen. With the whole house astir he’d be -afraid to come down and they had him safe as a -rat in a trap. Impatient at the wait for Shine’s -reappearance he left the room, saying he was -going to the boat-house for a word with Patrick.</p> - -<p>Bassett saw him go and made no move—he -could not leave Anne now. The detonation and -fire-work illumination that had made him leap for -the path had roused Patrick. As he ran, not -knowing what had taken place in the house, he -had heard the man’s grunt of returning consciousness -and a hoarse expletive thrown into the night. -Rawson would find him awake and his dereliction -never be known. But this mattered nothing to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</span>Bassett. An inner anguish held him; his eyes and -Anne’s had met as she stood on the gallery and -for the despair in hers he had no consolation. -He saw Miss Pinkney and Williams pulling out -the screen and draping it with a sheet, he saw -Stokes walking stiffly to a chair, his hands curved -over its back, his face a curious shining white—he -saw and his mind registered nothing. If it was -Joe, if it was Joe—what would become of her, -what could he do?</p> - -<p>The noise of the women’s footsteps on the -stairs came in a descending rush. They burst in, -their voices going before them, a scattering of -gasped explosive utterances.</p> - -<p>Flora went to Stokes and caught at his arm. -“What is it, what is it?” she kept repeating, jerking -at his arm, till he started away from her pushing -her off.</p> - -<p>Williams heard and answered with veiled gusto. -Some one had been walking about the house at -night against orders. It had been important to -find out who was doing it and so Mr. Shine had -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</span>set his camera and caught them, him or her—Williams’ -voice was heavy on the last pronoun—in a -flashlight picture. Mr. Shine was developing it -now and as soon as he was ready they’d see it -thrown on the sheet.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t me,” came Mrs. Cornell’s voice in -loud relief.</p> - -<p>“Nor me, nor me.” Flora’s followed.</p> - -<p>“Can’t you damned women keep still,” Stokes -ground out between his teeth.</p> - -<p>Rawson reentered. He had heard them as he -came up the path and stopped on the threshold -looking at Anne, waiting to see if she would speak. -But she said nothing, standing by Bassett, her -hand braced against a table, her glance on the -floor. She knew Rawson was watching her and -willed her form to an upright immobility, her face -to a stony blankness. If she could hold herself -this way, not move or speak, she could bear the -tension. A touch, a word, and she felt that her -body might break to pieces and her voice ascend -in long-drawn screams to the skies.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</span></p> - -<p>The screen under its white covering was set in -the place Shine had indicated, the projector put -some distance back, facing it. To some of them -these preparations had the hideous significance -of those preceding an execution and all of them -felt the deadly oppression of the approaching -climax. The room was very still as if an enchantment -lay on it. At intervals Mrs. Cornell drew -her breath with a low moaning sound, Stokes’ -hands clenched and unclenched on the chair-back -and Williams looked at his watch. He began a -guttural mutter of impatience and stopped as the -door opened and Shine came in.</p> - -<p>He came quickly, bringing an air of excitement -to the already highly charged atmosphere. There -was a bewildered agitation in his face, and his -words were broken and uncertain as he answered -Williams’ questions:</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, I got it—something—I can’t quite -make out—got me sort of flustered hurrying so. -You’ll have to stand away there, folks.” He -made a waving gesture and they drew back, pushing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</span> -against one another till they stood massed in -the rear of the room. He turned to the projector, -adjusting it, then held the negative out toward -Williams. “We’ll probably lose this, Mr. Williams. -Doing it so quickly I couldn’t fix it. It’ll -likely melt with the heat in here, won’t last more -than a few minutes. You don’t want to keep it, -do you?”</p> - -<p>“Go ahead. It’s only the picture—that’s all -that concerns us.”</p> - -<p>“All right—it’s your say-so. You’ll get it in a -minute now and by gum, I want to see—” he -stopped, his breath caught, his hands busy over -the machine. “Now then, we’re ready. Some one -please put out the lights.”</p> - -<p>Miss Pinkney pressed the button and the room -dropped into darkness. Through it the projector -cast a golden shaft that rested on the screen in a -bright circle. The reflection painted their faces -with a spectral glow. Every face, eyes staring, -lips dropped agape or pressed together in a taut -line, watched the bright disk of gold.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</span></p> - -<p>“Now,” came Shine’s voice whisperingly.</p> - -<p>A picture leaped into being on the screen. A -door-frame backed by solid indistinguishable -black, the edge of a door, and beyond it, the outlines -melting into the darkness, the suggestion of -a head and shoulders only the face showing clear, -looking at them with wide questioning eyes—Sybil -Saunders’ face.</p> - -<p>The silence held for a moment, then broke in an -explosive volume of sound. The women’s shrieks -rose simultaneously—“Sybil! Sybil!” The name -ran about the room, beat on the high ceiling and -was buffeted from wall to wall.</p> - -<p>“The dead woman!” Williams shook Shine’s -arm in his incredulous amazement.</p> - -<p>“It is—it’s her. I saw it when I developed it -and I don’t know—something’s gone wrong.”</p> - -<p>A raucous cry rose above the chorus of female -voices. Stokes had dropped his hold on the chair, -his starting eyes fixed on the picture. From his -lips, curled back like an angry dog’s, came a -strangling rush of words:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<p>“She’s dead. She’s dead for I killed her. I shot -her—she’s dead. She can’t come back, she never -can come back. I shot her as she ran—I killed -her—I saw her fall—she’s dead—dead!”</p> - -<p>The words died in a groan. He pitched forward -and lay a writhing moaning shape with -hands that clawed and dug into the carpet. The -men rushed at him, clustered about him, the women -watching in dumb horror while the picture behind -them slowly faded from the screen.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVII">XVII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">When</span> they carried Stokes to his room they -thought him dying, so ghastly was his appearance, -so deathlike his collapse. Bassett telephoned -to Hayworth for a doctor and before -the man came, Flora, singularly cold and collected -now the fight was over, told them her husband was -a morphia addict and showed them the case in his -bag with the empty vial. In the two days’ detention -on the island his supply had been exhausted, -the greatest strain of the many that had -ended in his frantic confession.</p> - -<p>When the doctor had made his examination and -heard the facts he looked grave—the man was in -desperate case, a complete breakdown of the -whole organism and an overstrained heart. He -thought there was little or no hope, but there -might be a return to consciousness. If there was -he promised to call the officers who were keen to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</span>get a fuller statement. Meantime he wanted the -room cleared of everybody but Mrs. Stokes, and -the men left, returning to the living-room to find -Shine and get an explanation of the picture.</p> - -<p>In the excitement of the Stokes sensation they -had forgotten all about the picture and now, -walking down the hall, they swung back to it. -Bassett and Williams were baffled and confounded -by it; it was one of the most startling of -the whole chain of startling circumstances. Rawson -was neither baffled nor confounded having -already arrived at a solution: Shine had played -a trick, done it on purpose to see if it might not -accomplish just what it had accomplished. He -was loud in his praise of the photographer, it was -a clever ruse that had brought things to a climax -when they might have gone on bungling for days. -Rawson was willing to admit his mistakes—he’d -been sure of the boy and now it appeared that -Bassett and Miss Tracy were right. Joe Tracy -had evidently lit out secretly on some business of -his own.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</span></p> - -<p>He dismissed the company with a curt command -and as they made their hurried exits, jocularly -congratulated Shine as the man who had -pulled off a successful hoax. But the photographer -showed no responsive pride, on the -contrary he looked rather shamefaced and denied -the charge. He’d meant to take a picture, no -funny business or fooling about it—but—he -rubbed his hand over his tousled hair and grinned -sheepishly. He was sleepy, that’s what had been -the matter, just plain doped with sleep so he -didn’t know what he was doing.</p> - -<p>“Well, how do you account for the picture?” -said Rawson. “Are you one of these people who -can take spirit photographs?”</p> - -<p>Shine wasn’t that—there was only one way of -accounting for it. He hadn’t opened the shutter -and the picture was one of those he had taken of -Miss Saunders the day of his arrival.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he said, staring perplexedly at the -carpet. “I’d swear I opened the shutter and I’d -swear I closed it after I got my wits back. But -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</span>there you are—you can’t take a picture of a dead -woman and I had a lot of her on that film. That’s -how it came about, being waked up sudden by Mr. -Williams and trying to pretend I was on the job, -and being naturally rattled by all that’s transpired -here. Oh, you can understand it!”</p> - -<p>“You’d taken her like that—coming through a -doorway?”</p> - -<p>He’d taken two or three like that—he couldn’t -be sure how many. But he did remember posing -her at both the front and rear entrances of the -living-room, trying to get effects of a dark background -with her figure dimly suggested and the -light on her face. It was evidently one of those -pictures, must have been the last he’d done, but -he couldn’t trust his memory on any small points. -He’d been more shocked than he had any idea of -but he knew it now.</p> - -<p>He described his amazement at having seen it -in the negative. He said he couldn’t believe his -eyes and hadn’t mentioned it as he thought he was -“seeing things” what with the murder and all the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</span>excitement. And he couldn’t study it or compare -it with those on the rest of the film because it was -gone. After they’d taken Stokes away and he’d -got the women quieted down he’d turned to the -sheet—and there it was, blank as it is now and the -negative melted. As for the explosion of the powder, -that was easy to explain, and he told of his -precautions in unlatching the door. Any light -air could have swung it open and as he was sinking -to sleep, he had felt a breeze blowing in from -the entrance. Rawson verified this; a wind had -arisen that had kept him on the <i>qui vive</i> in the -kitchen, moving the curtains and making the doors -creak.</p> - -<p>So that was that! Nobody’s brains, nobody’s -deductive powers, or perspicacity or psychological -insight had brought them to the goal. The -bungling of a sleepy man had done the trick.</p> - -<p>They were talking it over when the sound of -Flora’s voice stopped them. She was standing in -the doorway very white and very calm. Stokes -was asking for them. Yes, she nodded in answer -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</span>to Rawson’s look, he was quite himself. The doctor -had wanted him to wait till he was stronger -but he had insisted:</p> - -<p>“He says he must speak now while his mind is -clear. He seems to know it won’t last and he -can’t rest till he’s told everything.”</p> - -<p>They found him bolstered up in bed, a haggard -spectacle, his eyes, sunk in darkened hollows, -seemed to hold all the life left in his body. They -hung on the entering men, then swerved to his -wife and he made a motion for her to sit beside -him. When she had taken her place and he had -groped for her hand, his eyelids dropped and he -lay for a moment as if gathering strength.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad you’ve come,” he whispered. “Glad -it’s over. If I’m going on now it can’t be to anything -worse than this last thirty-six hours.”</p> - -<p>The desire to free his mind possessed him. Rest, -he said, rest was all he wanted and it was not for -him till he had unloaded the intolerable burden he -had carried since Sybil Saunders’ death. In his -own words the recital was broken by digressions, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</span>memories of his torturing passion, assurances of -good intentions that failed of execution, remorse -for the wrong he had done his wife. Robbed of -the theatrical quality that was of the man’s essence, -it was the stark revelation of a soul’s -tragedy.</p> - -<p>He had never intended to kill her—that was -the one point of exculpation he insisted on. His -love had made him mad, carried him beyond the -inhibiting forces of honor, feeling, reason. That -it was hopeless seemed to increase its obsessing -power, and she had never for one moment led him -to think it was anything but hopeless. Unwaveringly, -from the first, her attitude had been dislike, -aversion, a horror of his state of mind and -himself.</p> - -<p>His knowledge of the coming separation had -been the igniting motive that caused the inner explosion. -After their stay on the island she would -go her way, keep her whereabouts hidden from -him, and he might never see her again. The -thought became unbearable, and led him to a resolution<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</span> -of wild desperation—he would get her -alone, once more confess his passion, and if she -met it with the old scorn and abhorrence, kill -himself before her eyes. He had seen the revolver -in the drawer of the desk and on the day of the -performance, taken it. To prevail upon her to -grant him the interview was the problem, and the -evil inspiration came to him to tell her he had -news of Dallas, her lover. It was a lie, he knew -nothing of the man, but truth, decency, self-respect -no longer existed for him.</p> - -<p>He described the interview in the living-room, -her roused interest and demand for the information. -The intrusion of his wife worked with his -plan and he had insisted on a rendezvous where -they would be free from interruption. They -started for the summer-house on the Point, saw -Shine there, and made the arrangement to meet in -the place at seven. Then she had gone up-stairs -to her room and he to the balcony to wait for her.</p> - -<p>When he saw her pass the balcony he had risen -and followed her. She had moved rapidly, not -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</span>waiting for him, and he had not tried to catch up -with her as he knew she did not want any one to -see them together. When he entered the summer-house -she was sitting on the bench close to the -table on which her elbows rested. His hysterical -state, accelerated during the long wait, had -reached a climax of distraction and he burst into -a stream of words—he had lied to her, he knew -nothing, but he had to see her, he had lured her -there for a last interview, a final clearing up, and -he drew out the pistol. The sight of it, his mad -babble of disconnected sentences, evidently terrified -her. She leaped to her feet and made a -rush like a frightened animal for the opening. -Before he could speak or catch her she had -brushed past him and fled from the place.</p> - -<p>Then something had gone wrong in his head—he -couldn’t explain—a breaking of some pressure, -a stoppage of all mental processes. In the vacuum -one fact stayed—that she had got away from him -and he never would see her again. A blind fury -seized him and he shot at her as she ran. She was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</span>at the summit of the cliff, staggered, threw up her -arms and went over. When he saw her body lurch -and topple forward the darkness lifted from his -brain. He came back to himself as if from a -period of unconsciousness and realized what he -had done.</p> - -<p>He described his state as curiously lucid and -far-seeing. The insane outbreak seemed to have -freed his intelligence and temporarily suspended -the torment of his nerves. The situation presented -itself with a vision-like clarity and all the -forces of his mind and will sprang into action, -combining to achieve his safety. From the -shadow of the vines he looked at the house, saw -Bassett come to the living-room entrance, glance -about and go back. The sound of the shot had -evidently roused no forebodings and when no face -appeared at window or door, he ran to the pine -grove. There he was safe and slipped unobserved -to the balcony. He waited here for a moment to -get his breath and compose his manner. He was -the actor, playing a difficult part with a high-keyed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</span> -heady confidence when he entered the -room.</p> - -<p>His wife—that had been the unforeseen retribution. -He had not realized that suspicion would -turn on her, and then saw that it might, saw that -it did. His hell began when he grasped the danger -she was in, listened to Rawson’s questions on the -night of their arrival, sensed Williams’ line of -thought when the scene was rehearsed on the -shore. He had tried to turn them to Joe Tracy, -snatching at anything to gain time, but he would -have told, he was ready to tell. He kept reiterating -the words, his burning eyes moving from one -face to the other—he had broken her heart, ruined -her life, but he was not so utterly lost as that.</p> - -<p>It was her assurances that quieted him. She -had known from the first he would tell as she had -known from the first he had done it. He relaxed -and sank back, his eyes closing, and the doctor -motioned them to go. Flora followed them to the -door and held them there a moment to repeat what -she had said—as if, like him, wanting to rid her -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</span>mind of all its secret agony. It wasn’t surmise; -she had seen him. When she had turned from the -water after her attempt to catch the body she had -had a clear view of him stealing through the pine -wood, moving noiselessly and watching the house.</p> - -<p>“He never knew it,” she said. “That night -when you, Mr. Williams, nearly caught me on the -stairs, I was going to see him, say I knew what -he’d done and that I’d help him and lie for him -and stand by him. Oh, yes—I don’t care what I -tell now. He was my husband, I’d loved him and -he’d been cursed—cursed and destroyed.”</p> - -<p>The men closed the door softly as upon the -dead. What they had heard and left behind them -had taken the zest from their accomplishment and -in the glow of the hall lights their faces looked -drawn and hollowed with fatigue. Rawson drew -out his watch—half past two. The best thing -they could do was to get a little sleep. The day -would be on them in a few hours, there would be a -lot of business to get through and he, for one, was -dead beat. They wouldn’t take off their clothes, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</span>just turn in on the sofa and divan, and stepping -gently, as befitted a place where so dark a doom -had fallen, he and Williams passed into the -library.</p> - -<p>Sleep was far from Bassett. He would like to -have seen Anne, but it would have been inhuman -to rouse her, and he went toward the living-room -where he could think in quiet. The screen still -covered by the sheet and the projector facing it -were untouched and gave the place the air of a -scene set for a play. Silence brooded over the -room, a silence so peaceful and profound that it -seemed as if the hideous tumult of the last hour -must be a nightmare illusion. He dropped into -a chair, his breath expelled with a groaning note, -then heard Anne’s voice from the gallery above:</p> - -<p>“I’ve been waiting for you. May I come -down?”</p> - -<p>There she was, dressed, leaning against the -railing.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he beckoned, his heart expanding, his -depression lightened, and as she disappeared he -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</span>pulled up a chair for her. She came in, soft-footed -across the rugs, with the whispering words:</p> - -<p>“I couldn’t rest till I’d seen you and heard. -He’s told?”</p> - -<p>“Everything.” They sat, facing each other, -close together. “It’s solved and ended—the Gull -Island murder.”</p> - -<p>“Is it all right for you to tell me?”</p> - -<p>It was all right and he told her.</p> - -<p>She listened absorbed, eyes intent on his, now -and then nodding her head in confirmation of an -agreement in her own mind. When he had finished, -she sat looking down, apparently lost in -musing contemplation of the story.</p> - -<p>“So, as it turns out, Anne dearest, all that misery -you and I went through was unnecessary.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t Joe, he -wasn’t in it at all. But I don’t understand. I’ve -been sitting in my room while you were with -Stokes thinking about it and I can’t make it out. -Hugh”—she leaned forward and rested her hand -on his knee, dropping her voice though no one was -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</span>there to hear—“this is what I can’t explain—<i>whom</i> -did I see in here last night?”</p> - -<p>Bassett’s answer was prompt, delivered in the -brisk tone of common sense:</p> - -<p>“I can. It’s very simple. You didn’t see anybody.”</p> - -<p>“Nobody?”</p> - -<p>“Nobody. I’ve been thinking about it, too. -There’s only one explanation, and that’s it.”</p> - -<p>She looked beyond him at the lamp, her eyebrows -drawn in a puzzled frown:</p> - -<p>“You think I imagined it?”</p> - -<p>“I know you did. Just consider:—You were in -a wrought-up condition, you expected to see him, -came down for that purpose. The room was almost -dark, quite dark under the gallery where you -say he came from. After what you’d gone -through—first a murder, then a suspicion that -would have undermined the strongest nerves—you -were in a state to see anything.”</p> - -<p>She continued to stare at the light, her face -set in troubled thought.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</span></p> - -<p>“I suppose that could be.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Anne dear, it must have been, it could -have happened to any one. And there’s another -point—if it had been Joe, wouldn’t he have spoken -to you, one question even to find out what was -going on, what we were doing?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes. I’ve thought of that. It didn’t occur -to me at the time. But he would have said -something.”</p> - -<p>“Of course he would. You never saw anything -more substantial than a shadow in the moonlight.”</p> - -<p>“That must be it,” she murmured.</p> - -<p>“I ought to have realized it but I was stampeded -myself. We were all ready to go off like a -pack of fire-crackers. God”—he took her hand -and held its soft coldness against his forehead—“its -a wonder we didn’t all break to pieces like -Stokes.”</p> - -<p>She was silent for a moment then said:</p> - -<p>“Well, where <i>is</i> Joe? What’s he doing?”</p> - -<p>“Gone off on some business of his own. You -were telling the truth when you told Rawson and -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</span>Williams that Joe’s actions weren’t always calculable, -weren’t you?” He saw her answering -nod. “Well, he’s evidently chosen the occasion -of his leaving the island to light out in some new -direction. You can’t tell what may have been in -his head—a joke on Jimmy Travers, on us, any -sort of lark or tom-foolery. We’ll find it all out -soon.”</p> - -<p>He had his own opinion of Joe’s behavior which -he was not going to tell her now. The boy, found -out in his spying, knowing himself condemned by -his associates and black-listed in his profession, -might have departed for good, taken the opportunity -to disappear from a part of the country -where closed doors and averted faces would be his -portion. It would be like him and Bassett fervently -hoped that it might be the case.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said, rising and drawing her to her -feet. “There’s no good bothering about that any -more. Leave it to me and when we’ve got through -the rest of this horrible business I’ll look around -for him. And anyway, he’ll see it in the papers, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</span>and if he wants to show up, he’ll do it himself -within the next few days. Now you must go to -bed and let your poor tired brain rest.”</p> - -<p>They walked to the door and there he caught -her against his breast and looked into her face:</p> - -<p>“It’s all over—that fighting and struggling -alone, Anne. After this we’ll be together, as soon -as we can get away from here and find a clergyman -to marry us.”</p> - -<p>They kissed and parted, Bassett going to his -room—he could sleep now—and Anne faring -slowly up the stairs to hers.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XVIII">XVIII</h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Any</span> one watching Gull Island from the shore -would have seen the yellow shape of one bright -window set like a small golden square in the darkness. -The bright window was Anne’s and over -against it Anne sat on the side of the bed looking -at the floor. She sat perfectly still, held in a -staring concentration of thought, reviewing the -happenings of the night. The inability to understand -that she had expressed to Bassett had come -back to her, there were things that she could not -explain away. Like a child piecing together the -disconnected bits of a puzzle, she contemplated -separate facts, studied them, dropped each one in -turn and went on to another.</p> - -<p>While Bassett had talked to her she had accepted -his theory. His belief in it had been so -absolute and it was so plausible. Of course a person<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</span> -in her state might have imagined anything. -And as she dwelt on the sentence to persuade -herself, the vision of the dim shadowy room rose -before her with the figure coming toward her from -the darkness of the gallery, moving spiritlike as -an hallucination might move. But as the memory -grew in vividness the shape took form and solidity, -the slim boy’s shape. She saw again its rapid -advance, its sudden stoppage at her words, its -lightning-quick turn and soundless flight. The -snap of the closing door came to her mind as a -last confirmation and she knew it was no delusion.</p> - -<p>“I did,” she said in a whisper, and raised her -eyes as if confronting a doubter with the truth. -“I <i>know</i> it—I <i>did</i> see somebody.”</p> - -<p>Somebody!</p> - -<p>The word struck her ear with a startling effect, -an effect of discovery, of impending disclosures. -Her body shrank together as if in fear of them, -her riveted glance grew fixed as a sleep-walker’s. -She lost all sense of her surroundings, her entire -being contracted to a point of inner activity. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</span>Before that intensified mental vision a series of -pictures passed like the slides in a magic lantern:—Shine’s -photograph, the worn, wide-eyed -face of Sybil; Joe playing Sebastian, his costume, -his movements, a replica of Viola’s; the living-room -as they heard the shot, dusk falling outside; -in the summer-house—with its shrouding vines—it -would have been almost dark.</p> - -<p>The pictures were disconnected like spots of -light breaking through darkness. If the darkness -could be dispelled and the spots of light joined, -fused into continuity, she would reach something, -something she was groping toward, fearfully -groping toward. Suddenly a recollection flashed -up, clairvoyantly distinct—Joe at the flat trying -to make Bassett give him the part of Sebastian, -imitating Sybil’s walk. That picture brought -her to her feet, brought a smothered cry to her -lips. The spots of light had joined, run together -in a leaping illumination.</p> - -<p>On the bureau lay the key of Joe’s trunk that -she had brought from his room after their last -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</span>interview. She snatched it up and ran to the -door, out of it, along the gallery. In Joe’s room -she turned on the light and unlocked his trunk. -She went through it to the bottom looking for his -Sebastian costume. It was gone, every appointment -of it. She had not needed the proof, she -knew that she would not find it, that it was Joe, -dressed in that costume, Stokes had killed.</p> - -<p>The rest of it—Sybil alive, hiding somewhere! -She saw the gray dawn on the window—the night -was over, the house would soon be stirring. She -locked the trunk, turned off the light and stole -out on the gallery. She did not go back to her -room but kept on down the hall to the top-floor -staircase. Half-way up she heard from the floor -above a sound, so faint, so furtive, that it would -only have been audible in the dead dawn hush. -She made a rush upward sending her voice, low-keyed -but passionately urgent, ahead of her:</p> - -<p>“Sybil, Sybil, if it’s you, wait. It’s Anne. I’m -coming to help you.”</p> - -<p>The door of the bedroom opposite the stair-head<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</span> -was open. Against the pale light of the -window, poised with one hand resting on the -raised sash, was a boy’s figure—surely the figure -she had seen in the living-room two nights before. -It was so completely boyish, the cropped round -head, the knickerbockers and belted jacket, that -she could not yet be sure and went forward with -slackened gait, peering and murmuring fearfully:</p> - -<p>“Sybil, it <i>is</i> you?”</p> - -<p>The figure left the window, came nearer, -silently, creepingly, with a hand raised for caution. -She saw the face then, pinched and haggard, -strangely altered with the curling frame of -hair clipped close, but still Sybil’s.</p> - -<p>It was so extraordinary—such a gulf of unknown -happenings lay between them—that at -first they said nothing. In the spectral light they -were like two ghosts come together in some debatable -land beyond earth’s confines—too astonished -at their encounter to find speech, too removed -from the recognized and familiar to drop back to -its facile communications. They stared, eye to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</span>eye, breath coming brokenly through parted lips, -drawing together as if each were a magnet compelling -the other. Anne spoke first.</p> - -<p>“Joe,” she said. “It’s Joe that’s dead.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Do they know?”</p> - -<p>“They know nothing. They think it was you. -It’s all over, Stokes has told. But, oh, what is it? -I can’t understand—it’s like a fearful dream.”</p> - -<p>The words died away and a sudden violent -trembling shook her. With the joints of her -knees like water she sank on the side of the bed, -gripping the other with her shaking hands, pulling -her down beside her.</p> - -<p>“Tell me, tell me,” she implored. “Why is he -dead? Why did he pretend he was you? What -was he doing?”</p> - -<p>They sat, clinging together, two small huddled -figures in the gray light. Though the house below -was as silent as the tomb they spoke in subdued -voices, question, answer, surmise. Each -knew a different aspect of the story, brought her -own knowledge of Joe’s motives and actions. In -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</span>that whispered exchange they pieced together the -separate facts, combined them in coherent sequence -and came to a final enlightenment.</p> - -<p>Joe had met his death in his last effort as a -police spy, his last effort to get the Parkinson -reward. Leaving his room to come down and -make ready for his departure, he had heard the -voices of Stokes and Sybil in the living-room. -Sybil remembered Stokes’ upward look and question -about some one moving in the gallery—Joe -creeping to concealment behind the arch. The -nature of their conversation would have held him -listening: here was his last opportunity to get the -information he sought. He had heard the rendezvous -in the summer-house. Its open situation -offered no hiding-place outside, but knowing that -it would be almost dark inside, he had conceived -the idea of putting on his Sebastian costume and -impersonating Sybil. He probably thought he -risked no more than Stokes’ rage, and he also -probably thought that he might escape before -Stokes had discovered his identity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</span></p> - -<p>His room was next to Sybil’s. He had heard -her come up-stairs and from his window could -command the Point. When Shine left it he had -gone down, passed the balcony where Stokes was -waiting, and hearing his following footsteps, -moved with that close imitation of Sybil’s gait to -the summer-house. There the dim light and the -drooping curls of his wig enabled him to carry -through the deception. Stokes’ wild speech, followed -by the drawing of the pistol, had terrified -him. Confronted by a man armed and half-mad, -panic had seized him and he had made a rush from -the place.</p> - -<p>So Joe had died, a body clad in gala dress -swirling out on currents that would never bring -him back. Anne said nothing. She did not feel -any special grief, or feeling of any kind. Too -much had happened, she was benumbed. She had -a vague sense that in some future time, when she -had recovered from her dulled and battered state, -she might be sorry, cry perhaps. Her eyes fell -on her hand with Sybil’s clasped around it and the -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</span>sight of the linked fingers roused her. They were -like a symbol of the intertwined closeness of their -lives, so much closer than hers and Joe’s had ever -been. That brought her back to Sybil and Sybil’s -inexplicable actions. She lifted her head and -looked at the face beside her:</p> - -<p>“But—but—why did you do all this? Hide, -not say anything, let them think you were dead?”</p> - -<p>“I wanted to get away.”</p> - -<p>“Get away! What for—where?”</p> - -<p>“To Jim Dallas. I know where he is.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve known?”</p> - -<p>“For a month. I’ve written him telling him I’d -come if I could, if I <i>ever</i> could. Oh, but it’s been -hopeless. I was spied on, dogged, followed—” -Her voice rose on a hoarse note, stopped, and -after a scared listening hush, went on whisperingly: -“I want to stay dead, never come to life -here again. It’s my chance—the only chance I’ll -ever have. You’ve found me now and I’ll tell you -everything.” And she told Anne the story—the -story that no one else has ever heard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</span></p> - -<p>Since she had received his address the longing -to join her lover had possessed her. She had -written she would come, she knew he was waiting -for her, but the watch kept upon her made any -move impossible. Whatever her anguish, she -could not risk betraying his whereabouts; if it -had been only herself she would have dared anything. -In this position, growing daily more unbearable, -had suddenly come the means of escape. -Tragedy, swift and terrible as a bolt from the -blue, had been her opportunity, and she had desperately -seized it.</p> - -<p>From her window, after the interview with -Stokes, she had seen Joe, in his Sebastian dress, -pass below. She had known it was he because of -the costume and was astonished, supposing him -already gone. Stokes came into view following -him and the disturbing idea seized her that he had -mistaken the boy for herself. She had run to the -door to go down and end the misapprehension, -and then stopped—at close quarters Stokes -would see who it was, and to let Joe—evil-tongued -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</span>and hostile—discover their rendezvous, was the -last thing she wanted. She went back to the window -to watch the outcome and saw neither of -them. This frightened her—the only place they -could have disappeared to was the summer-house. -Stokes might say too much before he discovered -his mistake, and panic-stricken, she was about to -rush out, when Joe ran from the doorway and the -shot followed.</p> - -<p>For a space—she had no idea how long—she -was paralyzed, not believing her senses. She remembered -moving back into the room and from -there she saw Stokes issue from the summer-house -and flee to the shelter of the pine wood, <i>that</i> told -her what she had seen was real, a murder had -been committed under her eyes, and she went to -the door to go down. Holding it open she paused -on the threshold, heard the voices below, heard -Stokes’ entering words and had made a forward -step to run down and denounce him, when a sound -from outside stopped her. Flora’s cry that Sybil -was killed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</span></p> - -<p>It was that wild screaming voice that gave her -the idea, sent it through her brain like a zigzag of -lightning. While the people below made their -clamorous rush from the house, she stood in the -doorway, motionless in contemplation of the possibilities -that opened before her. The excitement -that had shaken her a few minutes earlier died, -her mind steadied and cleared, she felt herself -uplifted by an invincible daring and courage. -There was no danger of a recovery of the body -for she had heard from Gabriel and Miss Pinkney -that bodies carried out on the tide were never -found.</p> - -<p>Alone on the second floor with little fear of interruption -she had gone about her preparations -at once. She had taken nothing from her own -room but money from her purse (leaving a small -amount to avert suspicion) the candies from the -box on the table, a few crackers she had brought -up the night before from supper, and a pair of -scissors. Then going to Joe’s room she had gathered -the clothes he had discarded, lying ready to -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</span>her hand on the bed—everything from the shoes -to the cap—and stolen out and upward to the top -floor. Here she had put on the clothes and cut -off her hair—she showed Anne the ends of the -yellow curls in her jacket pocket—hiding her own -clothes in a box in the store-room.</p> - -<p>As to when the police would be summoned and -of what their procedure would consist, she knew -nothing. Her hope was to escape by the causeway -that night. From this Anne had saved her. -In her terror of recognition she had kept silent -knowing her voice would betray her.</p> - -<p>The next day she had been a prey to a rising -tide of alarm. From behind a curtain she had -watched the search of the island and realized a -hunt through the top floor must follow. Every -sign of her presence was obliterated and she -studied her surroundings for a hiding-place. The -windows, opened half-way to air the rooms, suggested -the possibility of a cache outside. Climbing -up the wall and extending to the roof was the -great wisteria vine, its outspread branches twisted -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</span>into ropes and covered with a mantle of dense -foliage. The main trunk passed close to the window -of the room that faced the stair-head, the -place where she sat waiting for ascending footsteps. -When Anne had made her visit, she had -heard the first creak of the stairs and crawled out -under the raised window. With a foothold on the -gutter she had slipped behind the curtain of the -vine, her hands gripped round its limbs. Even -from the garden below she thought it would have -been impossible to detect her. Of Anne’s whispered -pleadings she had heard nothing; she had -supposed the intruder one of the men. When they -came up she had had plenty of time to hide for -she had heard their footsteps when they came -along the hall.</p> - -<p>“Sleep!” she said, in answer to Anne’s question. -“I never thought of sleep. I was in this room all -the time, waiting and listening. I didn’t even dare -to lie on the bed for fear I couldn’t get it smooth -again. The candies and crackers kept me from -being hungry. But when your whole being is on -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</span>such a strain you don’t think of those things, you -forget your body.”</p> - -<p>After the visit of Rawson and Williams she -knew the danger of detection increased with every -hour. Also the necessity for food could not be -denied much longer. The one chance left her was -to get away that night, make what she felt would -be a last attempt to gain the freedom that meant -life to her. The darkness was in her favor and -she resolved to slip from the house and cross the -bed of the channel below the causeway. She was -a good swimmer and though the central stream -was deep and swift she was ready to match her -strength against it. If she failed—but she hadn’t -thought of failure—the goal to be reached was all -she saw.</p> - -<p>At the foot of the stairs she had hesitated, undecided -whether to go by the living-room or the -kitchen. Finally she chose the way she knew best, -where she was familiar with the disposition of the -furniture. As the flashlight burst she had made -a noiseless rush for the stairs, was in the upper -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</span>passage when the women’s doors flew open and -Rawson came running along the hall below. The -darkness and noise had covered her flight, but in -her eyrie on the top floor she had crouched at the -head of the stairs sick with uncertainty and -dread. The concerted shrieks of the women had -come eerily to her—cries of her own name. She -guessed then a picture had been taken, they had -seen it, and she waited not knowing what was coming. -She had stayed there a long time, listening -with every sense alert, heard silence gathering -over the house and then gone back to her place by -the window:</p> - -<p>“I hadn’t given up, I had the spirit to fight -still. But it was so awful not knowing anything, -what they were doing, if they’d found out I was -alive. And what was I to do—stay here, get out -on the island? I couldn’t tell, I was all in the -dark, and I felt my nerve weaken for the first -time. And then I heard your voice, Anne, ‘I’m -coming to help you,’ it said.” She drew back and -looked with solemn meaning into the other’s face. -“You meant it? You will help me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</span></p> - -<p>“Sybil, you know it.”</p> - -<p>“There’s only one way you can.”</p> - -<p>“Any way.”</p> - -<p>“Let me go.”</p> - -<p>“Never tell—that you were here—that it -wasn’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, let me stay dead. Everybody believes -it, let them go on believing. It <i>was</i> death, my life -since that night when Jim disappeared. It wasn’t -worth going on with. Now I can go to him, be -with him, there’ll be no one watching Sybil Saunders -any more. Even if I looked like myself it -would be only the chance resemblance to a murdered -woman. And do I look like myself?”</p> - -<p>She turned her face to the light, bright now -with the coming of the sun. Below the smooth -sweep of hair across her forehead it was so -changed in its pallor and thinness, so bereft of its -rounded curves and delicate freshness that it was -only a dim reflection of Sybil’s—the face of a -way-worn lad in whom the same blood ran.</p> - -<p>The havoc worked by the suffering that had so -transfigured it drove like a knife to Anne’s heart. -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</span>She felt the prick of tears under her eyelids and -lowered her head—Sybil gripping at her happiness -with the fierce courage of despair, and now -Sybil going, breaking all ties, going forever. For -a moment she could not speak and the other, -thinking her silence meant reluctance to agree, -caught at her hands, pleading, with breathless -urgence:</p> - -<p>“They’ve accepted everything—it’s all explained -and ended. Joe has gone, dropped out of -sight. Boys of his kind do that, do something -they’re ashamed of and disappear. What good -would it do Stokes or Bassett or the police to -know it was Joe who was killed? It’s not lies, it’s -not being false to any one, it’s only to keep silent -and let me go. Oh, Anne, we’ve been real friends, -we’ve loved each other— Love me enough to let -me be happy.”</p> - -<p>The rim of the sun slipped above the distant -sea line and sent a ray of brilliant light through -the window. It touched their seated figures and -lay rosy on Anne’s face as she raised it.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</span></p> -<p>“Go,” she said softly. “Go. I’ll never tell—I’ll -keep that promise as long as I live.”</p> - -<p>She could stay no longer, the house would be -waking soon. There was a rapid interchange of -last injunctions, information for Sybil’s safety. -To-night at low tide she would cross on the causeway. -Every evidence of her occupation would be -removed and with this in mind she took her Viola -dress from its hiding-place and gave it to Anne. -No one, ransacking the top floor at Gull Island -would ever find a trace of her.</p> - -<p>At the head of the stairs they clung together -for a moment—a life-long good-by. There was -no time for last words and they had no need of -any. It was too solemn a farewell for speech. -They were like shipwrecked comrades parted by -tempest, Anne to find a haven, Sybil to ride forth -on unknown seas, rapt and dauntless, following -her star.</p> - -<p>That night was cloudy—great black banks -passing across the heavens. At times they broke -and through serene open spaces the moon rode, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</span>silvering the sea, turning the pools and streamlets -of the channel bed to a shining tracery. A boy’s -figure that had started across the causeway in -the dark, was caught in one of these transitory -gleams, a flitting shadow on the straight bright -path. It stood out in sharp silhouette, running -on the slippery stones, then clouds swept across -the moon and in the darkness it gained the shore -and the sheltering trees. Padding light-footed on -the wayside grass, it skirted the edge of the village.</p> - -<p>Dogs scented its passage and broke out barking; -the sound following its progress till the -houses were passed and the road stretched on between -quiet fields to the railway.</p> - -<p>Some people heard the dogs—light-sleeping -villagers who turned and wondered if a tramp was -about and lapsed into comfortable slumber. In -the stillness of the room where Stokes lay unconscious, -drawing toward the hour of deliverance, -the barking sounded loud and insistent. The -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</span>nurse was disturbed by it and went to the window -and looked out, but Flora never heard it. Anne -did and sat up in bed following it along the edge -of the village till it died on the outskirts.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="EPILOGUE"><i>EPILOGUE</i></h2></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Three</span> years later Bassett and Anne had a -friend at dinner. He was a writer who had just -returned from a successful lecture tour in Australia. -On his way back he had ranged through -the pleasant reaches of the South Seas and had -fallen under their spell—a little more money in his -pocket and for him it would be a plantation on -some isle of enchantment. Not the accessible -places, they were already spoiled, steamers had -come, jazz music, and tourists in pith helmets -with red guidebooks were under your feet. It was -the remoter islands, still out of the line of travel, -where a trading schooner was the sole link with -the world.</p> - -<p>He had made a point of visiting some of these—hired -an old tub with a native crew and gone batting -about and had a glimpse of the real thing -that Stevenson saw. And he enlarged on a particular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</span> -island, the endmost of a scattered group, -where he had found an American and his wife running -a copra plantation. Delightful people -called Whittier, he’d stayed several days with -them in a long bamboo house on the edge of a lagoon—you -couldn’t imagine anything more -beautiful.</p> - -<p>Anne smiled at his enthusiasm and said she -thought such a life might pall, especially on the -lady. But he was convinced of the contrary, in -fact Mrs. Whittier had told him she never wanted -to come back, she couldn’t stand the futile strain -and bustle of the world. And it was not as if she -were a person unused to the refinements of life, she -was a pretty intelligent woman, cultivated and -fond of the arts, especially the theater. She had -asked him any amount of questions about plays -and players—said it had been the thing she loved -most in the old days. But she didn’t regret it; -she had told him she regretted nothing but the -separation from her friends.</p> - -<p>After dinner, moving about in the sitting-room, -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</span>the guest had stopped before a photograph standing -on a side-table, picked it up and asked whose -it was. Bassett had answered—a friend of his -wife, now dead. But he would remember—it was -Sybil Saunders who had met with such a tragic -death some years ago. The guest nodded; of -course he remembered, a horrible affair. Then -after a last look at the photograph he turned to -Anne:</p> - -<p>“It’s like that Mrs. Whittier I was telling you -about. Just the same eyes—quite remarkably -like, only she’s a bit stouter and more mature. It -might have been her picture when she was a girl.”</p> - -<p>When the evening was over Bassett escorted -the guest to the door. On his way back to the -sitting-room he thought he would suggest to -Anne that she put away the photograph—people -noticed it and the subject kept coming up. It -was evidently unbearably painful to her for she -rarely spoke of it; that dark chapter in her life -was a thing closed and sealed. He had the words -on his lips as he entered the room and then saw -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</span>that she held the picture in her hands and was -looking intently at it, softly smiling, her expression -tranquil, even happy. That was good—the -wound had healed—so he said nothing.</p> - - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="transnote"><div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph2 nobreak"><span class="smcap">Transcriber’s Notes:</span></p> -</div> - -<p>On page 12, fianceé has been changed to fiancée.</p> - -<p>On page 47, head-lands has been changed to headlands.</p> - -<p>On page 73, fishing rod has been changed to fishing-rod.</p> - -<p>On page 79, dispell has been changed to dispel.</p> - -<p>On page 157, contanied has been changed to contained.</p> - -<p>On page 179, ejactulated has been changed to ejaculated.</p> - -<p>On pages 247, 250, 251, 254 and 291, flash-light has been changed to -flashlight.</p></div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LEADING LADY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions - whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms - of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online - at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/69322-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/69322-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e4c9f33..0000000 --- a/old/69322-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/69322-h/images/i_title.jpg b/old/69322-h/images/i_title.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 543fd31..0000000 --- a/old/69322-h/images/i_title.jpg +++ /dev/null |
