The Mystery of the Sea

  CHAPTER XVIII

  FIREWORKS AND JOAN OF ARC

  For some time I did not sleep. Things were hurrying on so fast; andso many new events and facts and dangers were coming to light, that Ihardly knew where to begin to think. Of course all things concerningMarjory, principally her safety, took the first place. What could bethis Spanish plot; what could be its method or its purpose? At firstwhen Adams had told me of it, I had not been much concerned; itseemed so far away, so improbable, that I fear I did not take it withsufficient gravity. I had not thought at the time that the two nationswere actually at war, and that already, both before the war and duringit, deeds of desperate treachery had been done, the memory of which werenot even obliterated by the valour and chivalry which had been shownby the nobler of America's foes. "_Remember The Maine_" was still awatchword and war cry. There were many scoundrels, such as chieflycome to the surface in war time, who would undertake any work, howeverdeadly, however brutal, however dangerous. Such villains might be atwork even now! With a bound I was out upon the floor. In that moment ofconcrete thought of danger to Marjory I realised to the full the dangerof my own ignorance of her situation, and even of the locality where shemight be. This impotence to do anything was simply maddening; when Ifelt it I could not but understand the annoyance of Adams in feeling ameasure of the same impotence, with what looked like my obstinacy added.But think how I would, I could do nothing till I should see Marjory orhear from her. With this thought, which, under the circumstances, wasmore than harrowing, I went back to bed.

  I was waked by the knocking of Adams who in reply to my "Come," slippedin and shut the door behind him.

  "They are gone!"

  "Who?" I asked mechanically, though I well knew.

  "Miss Drake and her friend. They went away last night, just after youcame back from the station. By the way, I thought you dined with them?"he said interrogatively, and with a dash of suspicion in his tone.

  "I was to dine with them;" I answered "but they were not there." He madea long pause.

  "I don't understand!" he said. I felt that as the time which I wasto cover had passed, I might speak; for all sakes I wanted to avoidcollision with Adams or the appearance of deceiving him. So I said:

  "I can tell you now, Sam. I was asked to dine last night with Mrs. Jackand Miss Anita--Miss Drake. When I came down to the room I found aletter saying that they had to go away and making a special request thatI would dine alone, just as though they were there. I was not to saya word to any one about their being away. Please understand, my dearfellow--and I must ask you to take it that this is only a hint which youmust accept and not attempt to follow up--that there are reasons why Ishould act on any request of Miss Drake's, blindfold. I told you lastnight that my hands were tied; this was one of the cords. To-day I holdmyself free to explain I may now also tell you more. Last night I coulddo nothing. I could take no step myself, nor could I help you to takeone; simply for the reason that I do not know where Miss Drake isstaying. She is I know stopping, or was till lately, somewhere on theeastern side of Aberdeen County; but where the place is I have not thefaintest idea. I expect to know very shortly; and the moment I know Iwill try to inform you, unless I am forbidden. You will know in timethat I have spoken exact truth; though you may have found my words ormeaning hard to understand. I am more than anxious to put Marjory onguard. When you left me last night, the whole deadly seriousness of thematter grew on me, till I was as miserable as a man can be." His facelightened as I spoke.

  "Well," he said "at least we are one in the matter; that is something.I feared you were, and would be, working against me. Now look here, Ihave been thinking the matter over, and I daresay I have come nearer tounderstanding your position than you imagine. I don't want to limit orhamper you in working in your own way for Miss Drake's good; but I maytell you this. I mean to find her if I can, and in my own way. I am notfettered anywhere, except by the necessary secrecy. Outside of this I amfree to act. I shall keep you advised at Cruden."

  Before I was dressed I had another visitor. This time it was Cathcartwho, with considerable diffidence and all the shamefaced embarrassmentof an Englishman when doing a kindly action in which he may be taken asintruding, offered me his services. I tried to set him at ease by theheartiness of my thanks. Upon which he expanded enough to say:

  "From something Adams let drop--in all confidence believe me--I gatheryou are or may be in trouble about some friend. If this should be, andfrom my heart I trust it may not, I hope you will bear in mind that Iam a friend, and unattached. I am pretty well alone in the world so faras family is concerned, and there is no one to interfere with me. Indeedthere are some who would be happy, for testamentary reasons, to attendmy funeral. I hope you will remember this, old chap, if there is any fungoing." Then he went away, easy of carriage and debonair as usual. Itwas in such wise that this gallant gentleman made me a proffer of hislife. It moved me more than I can tell.

  I went down to Cruden by the next train, and arranged with thepostmaster to send on to me at once by messenger or wire any telegramthat might come directed as I had told Adams.

  Towards dusk a letter was brought to me. It was in Marjory's hand, andon my asking at once how it had come, I was told that it was brought bya mounted man who on handing it in had said "no answer" and had riddenaway.

  With hope and joy and misgiving mingled I opened it. All these feelingswere justified by the few words it contained:

  "Meet me to-morrow at eleven at Pircappies."

  I passed the night with what patience I could, and rose early. At ten Itook a light boat and rowed by myself from Port Erroll across the bay.I hung round outside the Skares, ostensibly fishing but keeping watchfor any sign of Marjory; for from this point I could see the road toWhinnyfold and the path by the beach. A little before eleven I saw awoman wheeling a bicycle down the Whinnyfold laneway. Taking in mylines, I pulled, quietly and avoiding any appearance of hurry, for Iknew not whether any one might see us, into the tiny harbour behind thejutting rock. Marjory arrived just at the same time, and I rejoicedto see that her face bore no mark or sign of care. As yet nothing hadhappened. We met with a slight hand shake; but there was a look in hereyes which made my heart leap. For the past thirty-six hours my anxietyfor her had put aside every other feeling. I had not thought of myself,and therefore not of my love for her; but now my selfish instinct wokeagain in full force. In her presence, and in the jubilance of my ownheart, fear in all forms seemed as impossible to realise as that theburning sun above us should be blotted out with falling snow. With oneof her mysterious signs of silence she pointed to the rock that herestretches out into the sea, and whose top is crowned with long seagrass. Together we climbed the face of the cliff, and bearing across thenarrow promontory passed over the top of the rock. We found a cosy nesthidden behind it. Here we were absolutely isolated from the world; outof earshot of every one, and out of sight except from beyond the stretchof rocky sea. In a demure way she acknowledged my satisfaction.

  "Isn't it a nice place. I chose it out yesterday when I was here!" Foran instant I felt as though she had struck me. Just to think that shehad been here yesterday, whilst I was waiting for her only across thebay, eating my heart out. However, there was no use looking back. Shewas with me now, and we were alone. The whole delight of the thingswept away every other feeling. With a pretty little motion of settlingherself comfortably, and which to me seemed to prelude a long talk, shebegan:

  "I suppose you know a lot about me now?"

  "How do you mean?"

  "Come now, don't prevaricate. I saw Sam Adams in Aberdeen, and of coursehe told you all about me." I interrupted:

  "No he didn't." The very tone of my voice enlightened her. With a smileshe said:

  "Then some one else did. Answer me some questions. What is my name?"

  "Marjory Anita Drake."

  "Am I poor?"

  "In the way of money, no."

  "Right! Why did I leave America?"

  "To run away from the fire
works and the Joan of Arc business."

  "Right again; but that sounds mighty like Sam Adams. Well, that's allright; now we may begin. I want to tell you something which you don'tknow." She paused. Half in delight and half in fear, for her appearanceof purpose alarmed me, I set myself to listen.