Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-02-05
CHAPTER Y.
An Open Grave.

Her white face was a sufficient Warrant
OF her sincerity. I began to feel trifs
uneasy myself.
I suggested, weakly. Have you looked? p
Eyes. It's not there"
rs it the only one you have?"
She nodded. dropped to my knees and
examined the inner fastenings of the
door.
There's a staple here and a hole sunk
, into the woodwork opposite I said
hopefully. Suppose I should lock my
self in?"
Her face frightened. 81 hadn't though,
of that; But we must find something fol
ITS found" l answered, whipping out
Biakeley's revolver and running it's BARRE
through the catches. This will do spien-
didly.''
But if you should need tt
Its broken" l explained. "My pirate
friend left it in exchange for NINE
oh" She held out her hand. May 1
see it?''
Certainly
drew it from the staple and gave it
to her. She looked at it carefully, turn
ing it over in her fingers, -as though
searching for some mark of identified
ton.
"Yes. it will do" she agreed, returning
it with faint. smile of Indifference.
/ held the door open for her. She
paused on the threshold.
Il have your solemn promise not to
leave the hut" she reminded me.
Il shall hold to it-unless the place gets
too hot
That's understood, of course. Good
luck to you
Good night
1 caught glimpse of a tiny path
struggling across a miniature moorland,
with a. low. rambling house in the mid
die distance. and beyond it jagged
frieZe of rock rising black against the
purple sky. Then | remembered the girls
injunction. and closing the door l shot
home my improvised bolt. The sound Of
her retreating footsteps trailed off into
I gave the door last pull to make GER
tain that it was secure. then got out my
revolver from under the pillow AS l
drew out the cartridges, one by one, the
truth of Pierre's words flashed upon me.
"Eet is vet. Eet not fire good he had
said. and the greasy dampness which
chung to the chambers and barrel bore
out his assertion. mere hint to the girl
would have procured me all the ammuni-
ton / wanted, and l had neglected to ask
her. l cursed myself for a fool.
With bit of cloth l managed to clean
up the revolver. but the water-soaked
detied my efforts to dry them.
Despairing in the attempt / thrust them
back into their places, and dropping the
useless weapon into my pocket leaned
across the window ledge.
The sun. a crimson ball hung low over
the western reach Of cliffs which Enclosed
tho little harbor. The level flood of light,
feeling it's way among the somber gorse
and bracken. Wove laceiihe threads of
gold across wool of violet. Great stains
Of claret streaked the opalescent depths
Of the further sea. and above. nodded
against the clear blue of the sky, the
white clouds were shot with saffron and
scarlet. The eastern headland still gloWed
IN the full riot of the sunset coiors. but
the waters and the sandy beach below
me We're already shrouded in gloom.
The peacefulness of the scene was in
sharp contrast. to the perplexing turmoil
Of mystery and danger which surrounded
me, and half consciously my mind ran
back along the chain Of circumstances
which had brought me to my present
plight. l wondered whether Prescott had
been able to save the firm from bank
ruptcy and what he would think OF my
strange disappearance. wondered
whether the yacht would be reported as
among those missing, and whether he
would see 1t in the papers-I wondered
whether ] should ever see him again.
Carton. Larabee--even Blakeley
himself, it appeared-I alone was needed
to make the tale OF the dead complete.
Was this projected attack upon me to be
In the nature OF a final sacrifice
l thought of Sylvia Hayward, with hc;'
evident refinement and breeding; thought
OF that burly giant. her father, and the
nest OF incipient anarchists whom he har-