Scarhaven Keep Page 23

  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE YACHT COMES BACK

  Chatfield, his arms filled with masses of dried bracken and coarse grass,turned sharply on hearing Vickers's call and stared hard and long in thedirection which the young solicitor pointed out. His small, crafty eyesbecame dilated to their full extent--suddenly they contracted again witha look of cunning satisfaction, and throwing away his burdens he drew outa big many-coloured handkerchief and mopped his high forehead as if theperspiration which burst out were the result of intense mental relief.

  "Didn't I know we should be rescued from this here imprisonment!" hecried with unctuous joy. "Thought they'd pinned me here for best part ofa week, no doubt, while they could get theirselves quietly away--faraway! But it's my experience 'ut them as has served the Lord's neverdeserted, Mr. Vickers, and if you live as long as--"

  "Don't be blasphemous, Chatfield!" said Vickers, curtly. "None of that!What we'd better think about is the chance of that steamer sighting us.We'll light that fire, anyway!"

  "She's coming straight on for the island," remarked Copplestone, who hadbeen narrowly watching the approaching vessel. "So straight that you'dthink she was actually making for it."

  "She'll be some craft bound for Kirkwall," said Vickers, pointingnorthward to the main group of islands. "And in that case she'll probablytake this channel on our west; that fire, now! Come on all of you, andlet's make as big a smoke as we can get out of this stuff."

  The weather being calm and the grass and bracken which they heapedtogether as dry as tinder, there was little difficulty about raising athick column of smoke which presently rose high in the sky. But Audrey,turning away from the successful result of their labours, suddenlyglanced at Copplestone with a look that challenged an answer to her ownthoughts. They were standing a little apart from the others and shelowered her voice.

  "I say!" she murmured. "I don't think we need have bothered ourselves tolight that fire. That vessel, whatever it is, is making for us. Look!"

  Copplestone shaded his eyes and stared out across the sea. The steamerwas by that time no more than two or three miles away. But she was comingtowards them in a dead straight line, and as she was accordingly bow on,and as her top deck and lamps were obscured by clouds of black smoke,pouring furiously from her funnels, they could make little out of herappearance. Copplestone's first notion was that she was a naval patrolboat, or a torpedo destroyer. Whatever she was it seemed certain that shewas heading direct for the island, at that very point on which thefugitives had been landed the previous night. And it was very evidentthat she was in a great hurry to make her objective.

  "I think you're right," he said, turning to Audrey. "But it's strangethat any vessel should be making for an uninhabited island like this.What--but you've got some notion in your mind?" he broke off suddenly,seeing her glance at him again. "What is it?"

  Audrey shook her head, with a cautious look at Chatfield.

  "I was wondering if that's the _Pike_?--come back!" she whispered. "Andif it is--why?"

  Copplestone started, and took a longer and keener look at thevessel. Before he could speak again, Vickers called out cheerilyacross the rocks.

  "Come on, you two!" he cried. "She's seen us--she's coming in. They'llhave to send off a boat. Let's get down to the beach, so that they'llknow where there's a safe landing."

  He sprang over the edge of the cliff and hurried down the rough path;Chatfield, picking up his coat and shawl, prepared to follow him; Audreyand Copplestone lingered until he, too, had begun to lumber downward.

  "If that is the _Pike_," said Audrey, "there is something--wrong. Whoeverit is that is on the _Pike_ wouldn't come back to take us!"

  "You think there is somebody on the _Pike_--somebody other than Andrius?"suggested Copplestone.

  "I believe the man who calls himself Marston Greyle was on the _Pike_,"announced Audrey. "I've always thought so. Whether Chatfield knew thator not, I don't know. My own belief is that Chatfield did know. I believeChatfield was in with them, as the saying is. I think they were allrunning away with as much of the Scarhaven property as they could layhands on and that having got it, they bundled Chatfield out and dumpedhim down here, having no further use for him. And, if that's the _Pike_,and they're returning here, it's because they want Chatfield!"

  Copplestone suddenly recognized that feminine instinct had solved aproblem which masculine reason had so far left unsolved.

  "By gad!" he exclaimed softly. "Then, if that is so, this is merelyanother of Chatfield's games. You don't believe him?"

  "I would think myself within approachable distance of lunacy if Ibelieved a word that Peter Chatfield said," she answered calmly. "Ofcourse, he is playing a game of his own all through. He shall have hispension--if I have the power to give it--but believe him--oh, no!"

  "Let's follow them," said Copplestone. "Something's going to happen--ifthat is the _Pike_."

  "Look there, then," exclaimed Audrey as they began to descend the cliff."Chatfield's already uneasy."

  She pointed to the beach below, where Chatfield, now fully overcoated andshawled again, had mounted a ridge of rock, and while gazing intently atthe vessel, was exchanging remarks with Vickers, who had evidently saidsomething which had alarmed him. They caught Chatfield's excitedejaculations as they hurried over the sand.

  "Don't say that, Mr. Vickers!" he was saying imploringly. "For God'ssake, Mr. Vickers, don't suggest them there sort of thoughts. You make mefeel right down poorly, Mr. Vickers, to say such! It's worse than a baddream, Mr. Vickers--no, sir, no, surely you're mistaken!"

  "Bet you a fiver to a halfpenny it's the _Pike_," retorted Vickers. "Iknow her lines. Besides she's heading straight here. Copplestone!" hecried, turning to the advancing couple. "Do you know, I believe that'sthe _Pike!_"

  Copplestone gave Audrey's elbow a gentle squeeze.

  "Look at old Chatfield!" he whispered. "By gad!--look at him. Yes," hecalled out loudly, "We know it's the _Pike_--we saw that from the top ofthe cliffs. She's coming straight in."

  "Oh, yes, it's the _Pike_," exclaimed Audrey. "Aren't you delighted, Mr.Chatfield."

  The agent suddenly turned his big fat face towards the three youngpeople, with such an expression of craven fear on it that the sardonicjest which Copplestone was about to voice died away on his lips.Chatfield's creased cheeks and heavy jowl had become white as chalk;great beads of sweat rolled down them; his mouth opened and shutsilently, and suddenly, as he raised his hands and wrung them, his kneesbegan to quiver. It was evident that the man was badly, terriblyafraid--and as they watched him in amazed wonder his eyes began tosearch the shore and the cliffs as if he were some hunted animal seekingany hole or cranny in which to hide. A sudden swelling of the light windbrought the steady throb of the oncoming engines to his ears and heturned on Vickers with a look that made the onlookers start.

  "For goodness sake, Mr. Vickers!" he said in a queer, strained voice."For heaven's sake, let's get ourselves away! Mr. Vickers--it ain't safefor none of us. We'd best to run, sir--let's get to the other side of theisland. There's caves there--places--let's hide till something comes fromthe other islands, or till these folks goes away--I tell you it'sdangerous for us to stop here!"

  "We're not afraid, Chatfield," replied Vickers. "What ails you! Why man,you couldn't be more afraid if you'd murdered somebody! What do yousuppose these people want? You, of course. And you can't escape--if theywant you, they'll search the island till they get you. You've beendeceiving us, Chatfield--there's something you've kept back. Now, what isit? What have they come back for?"

  "Yes, Mr. Chatfield, what has the _Pike_ come back for?" repeated Audrey,coming nearer. "Come now--hadn't you better tell?"

  "It is the _Pike_," remarked Copplestone. "Look there! And they're goingto send in a boat. Better be quick, Chatfield."

  The agent turned an ashen face towards the yacht. She had swung round andcome to a halt, and the rattle of a boat being let down came menacinglyto the frightened man's ears. He tittered a deep groa
n and his eyes againsought the cliffs.

  "It's not a bit of good, Chatfield," said Vickers. "You can't get away.Good heavens, man!--what are you so frightened for!"

  Chatfield moaned and drew haltingly nearer to the other three, as if hefound some comfort in their mere presence.

  "It's the money!" he whispered. "The money as was in the NorcasterBank--two lots of it. He--the Squire--gave me authority to get out hislot what was standing in his name, you know--and the other--the estatelot--that was standing in mine--some fifty thousand pounds in all, Mr.Vickers. I had it all in gold, packed in sealed chests--and they--thoseon board there--thought I took them chests aboard the _Pike_ with me. Idid take chests, d'ye see--but they'd lead in 'em. The real stuff ishidden--buried--never mind where. And I know what they've come backfor!--they've opened the chests I took on board, and they've foundthere's naught but lead. And they want me--me!--me! They'll torture me tomake me tell where the real chests, the money is--torture me! Oh, forGod's sake, keep 'em away from me--help me to hide--help me to getaway--and I'll tell Miss Greyle then where the money's hid, and--oh,Lord, they're coming! Mr. Vickers--Mr. Vickers--"

  He cast himself bodily at Vickers, as if to clutch him, but Vickersstepped agilely aside, and Chatfield fell on the sand, where he laygroaning while the others looked from him to each other.

  "Ah!" said Vickers at last. "So that's it, is it, Chatfield? Trying tocheat everybody all round, eh? I suppose you'd have told Miss Greylelater that these people had collared all that gold--and then you'd havehelped yourself to it? And now I know what you were doing on that yachtwhen we boarded it--you were one of the gang, and you meant to hook itwith them--"

  "I didn't--I didn't!" screamed Chatfield, beating the sand with his handsand feet. "I meant to slip away from 'em at a Scotch port we was to callat, and then--"

  "Then you'd have gone back to the hidden chests and helpedyourself," sneered Vickers. "Chatfield, you're a wicked oldscoundrel, and an unmitigated liar! Give me that paper that MissGreyle signed, this instant!"

  "No!" interjected Audrey. "Let him keep it. He'll have trouble enoughpresently. It's very evident they mean to have him."

  Chatfield heard the last few words and looked round at the edge of thesurf. The boat had grounded on the shingle, and half a dozen men hadleapt from it and were coming rapidly up the beach.

  "Armed, by George!" exclaimed Copplestone. "No chance for you,Chatfield!"

  The agent suddenly sprang to his feet with a howl of terror. He gave onemore glance at the men and then he ran, clumsily, but with a speed madedesperate by terror. He made straight for the rocks--and at that, two ofthe men, at a word from their leader, raised their rifles and fired. Andwith a shriek that set all the echoes ringing, the sea-birds screaming,and made Audrey clap her hands to her ears, Chatfield threw up his armsand dropped heavily on the sands.

  "That's sheer murder!" exclaimed Vickers, as the yachtsmen camerunning up. "You'll answer for that, you know. Unless you mean tomurder all of us."

  The leader, a smiling-faced fellow, touched his cap respectfully, andgrinned from ear to ear.

  "Lor' bless you, sir, we shot twenty feet over his head!" he said. "He'stoo precious to shoot: they want him badly on board there. Now then, men,pick him up and get him into the boat--he'll come round quick enough whenhe finds he hasn't even a pellet in him. Handy, now! Captain'scompliments, sir," he went on, turning again to Vickers, and pointing tocertain things which were being unloaded from the boat, "and as heunderstands that no vessel will pass here for two more days, sir, he'ssent you further provisions, some more wraps, and some books and papers."