Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-10-07
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cote was dead. killed. presumably, by
1 the convicts themselves.
| Why, then, should lie Balafre come
back, since their revenge was consum:
mated? An idea occurred TO me. Was
1t possible that lie Balafre and Bee had
| not known until this evening that he
was dead? The inevitable question fol-
lowed. If they had not killed Parados,
who had? And then was back where
had begun.
A fantastic notion suddenly brought
me up standing. That afternoon on the
ridge above the village Caroline had
been sure she had seen some one move
on one of the wharves below us. had
laughed at her. Had she been right2
And II she had been, was 1t one OF
the French convicts whom she had
seen? Perhapsl No one ever went
there. The village would have made an
ideal temporary headquarters. But,
above all, were they taking Caroline
there now?
It was desperate hope, but enough
to send me flying along the jetty to-
ward the foot Of the cliff trail. I could
think Of half q dozen reasons why LIE
Balafre and Bee should not go to the
village and Of none why they should.
If my bunch was sound, Id have plenty
Of time afterward to think of Messieurs
LIE Balafre and Bees reasons for re-
turning to the village.
My feet were in bad condition by the
time I reached the top, of the trail.
Fortunately, I had another pair Of
shoes in my suit case. As limped up
the outside stair tore of my wet coat
and shirt, replacing them with the light
overcoat had brought with me. I
didn't dare to take the time to change
other garments. My f1ashlight was
broken.
I had supposed that the house was
empty, but as I ran down the stair to
the hall heard a small noise that
might have been sob or groan. It
seemed to come from the vicinity Of
Miss Jahries' room.
The door was shut. knocked. There
was no reply and I pushed into the
room, turning the light switch. Man
ming lay across the bed, her head buried
in pillow.
Where are the others?"
She screamed at the sight Of my
face, which was not surprising, as I
must have been q gory-looking object.
A valuable minute was lost in reassur-
ing her.
sharply.
thing" She began to weep Historically.
"They haven't come back. heard Miss
Brent's voice upstairs-and another
voice-a mans"
what did he say?" I shouted.
81 don't know. I don't know any
thing. oh, he had funny voice-like
like Mr.. F1ique's. And he said--he
said something about village-oh, Mr..
Hunt, you are hurting my arm-ohI"
WAS that all you heard?"
! eyes, sir. Oh, my ARM"
Pull yourself together and listen TO-
what I say" I shook her violently.
you aren't in any danger. Try to find
| Flique or Samuels-any of them. Tell
them I've gone to the old fishing VIZ
lage-that Miss Brent is there. You
| understand"
She nodded stupidity and I left her.
The house behind me, headed for the
slope at a sharp trot. The trail belted
the waist Of the island, rising crookedly
to q saddle in the slope and dropping
steeply to point half q mile or 90
south Of the deserted village.
I had perhaps miles to 60, the
launch or 10, according to the con-
tour of the coast. The launch would
arrive first, knew-perhaps 1t was
there already-but did not force my
pace. My sharp trot would get me there
sooner in the long run.
I did not speculate. My job was TO
get Caroline out Of the hands Of those
|
not have the, courage to go on living.
I saw no sign Of any Of the others.
This was not surprising, as the island
occupied 10 or 20 square miles.
Half an hour Of this steady gait
found me sliding down the east sidfs
of the slope. Reaching the bottom
turned north and ran at top speeM
At first the buildings of the VI 10.
and the wharves and the be(schsss
hulks were blurs against the hlses
armament. AS I entered the v6Iaee 7
knew 1t for what it was and GntSi,,r
else-the symbol Of one mans hstrass
Hatred? The recurrent met,f SIsE
on my emotions. Without dokibt was
mad.
At the head Of the secGnA uh.rs
the one on which Carolina had a.
clared she had seen some N, innve
| stopped. There was no sign ~ aSiss,,,.,,
or Of any living being but 1i.vseIf ! M
no sound but the quiet lappink 80 tl,a
| ebbing tide. The oppressive ems ~ss
Of the place turned me sick.
Why had I come?
Continued tomorrow