Well, I was up against it now. In vain my memory protested against the credibility of the evidence which my eyes could not repudiate. Grundt was dead these four years; had I not seen him, dimly through the blue haze of smoke from my brother's automatic, sink back lifeless on the carpet in the billiard-room of that frontier Schloss? Had I not even read his obituary in the German newspapers?
Yet here he stood before me again, the man as I had known him in the past, ruthless-looking, formidable, sinister in his clumsy, ill-fitting suit of black. Again I noted the immense bulk which, with the overlong sinewy arms, the bushy eyebrows and the black-tufted cheek-bones irresistibly suggested some fierce and gigantic man-ape. Beneath the right eye a red and angry scar, a deep indentation in the cheek-bone, solved at a glance the mystery which had almost paralysed my brain. My brother's aim had failed. That hideous cicatrice, accentuating the leer of the bold menacing eyes and of the cruel mouth, told me beyond all possibility of doubt, that, out of the dim, dark past, Clubfoot had again arisen to confront me.
A sort of cold despair settled down upon me. That Clubfoot would, in his good time, shoot and shoot to kill I made no doubt; for we had been mortal enemies and quarter did not ever come into Grundt's reckoning. All kinds of odd scenes from my crowded life swarmed into my mind; dear old Francis serving in the tennis-court at Prince's; a juggler on the Maidan at Calcutta, when I was a subaltern in India; Doña Luisa, standing in Bard's gardens and rolling her white eyeballs at me....
Then Clubfoot laughed, a dry mirthless chuckle. The sound was forbidding enough but it braced me like a tonic. I had beaten this man before; I would beat him again. I dropped my eyes, seeking to locate my pistol.
"Five paces back, if you please, Herr Major," rang out a commanding voice from the rock. "And, to save misunderstanding, let me say that it would add to the decorum of the proceedings if you renounced any attempt to find your weapon...." He spoke in German in accents of deadly suavity. "On the occasion of our last meeting you—or was it your brother?—showed that your hand is the prompt servant of your brain, an invaluable asset (let me add in parenthesis) to the big-game hunter, but disconcerting in civilised society...."
What a commanding presence this man had! Again I was conscious of it as, before his slow and searching gaze, I fell back as ordered. He seemed to fill that narrow glen. This effect was not produced by his bulk (which was considerable) but by his amazing animal vitality, the mental and physical vigour of some great beast of prey.
Keeping me covered with his pistol, he lowered himself to a sitting position on the rock and with surprising agility in one crippled as he was, dropped heavily on to the slab. In a lightning motion he stooped and whipped up my automatic which, with a whirling motion of the left hand, he sent flying away into the bush.
"Now, Okewood," he remarked, "you can sit down! But be good enough to keep your hands above your head!"
He gave me the lead by seating himself on the rocky slab. I followed his example and dropped on to the ground.
"Would you mind," I asked, "if I clasped my hands behind my head? Otherwise, the position is fatiguing...."
"Not in the least," retorted Clubfoot, baring his teeth with a gleam of gold, "as long as you remember that I shoot quickly—and straight!"
He measured the distance between us with his eye and then, as though in deliberate challenge, laid his pistol down on the rock beside him. He produced a cigar case from his pocket.
"I seem to recollect that you are a cigar-smoker!" he began.
"Thanks," I retorted, remembering the holder I had picked up, "I don't smoke German cigars!"
Clubfoot chuckled amiably.
"Nor do I!" he rejoined. "I believe you will find these as good as any that ever came out of Havana. Not long ago I was a highly respected member of the Club there!"
And he tossed his case across to me, after selecting a cigar for himself. I let it lie. I was not taking favours from this man.
Grundt raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. But he made no comment on my ungraciousness.
"Herr Major!" he said as he bit off the end of his cigar, "I must once more congratulate you on the supreme excellence of your country's Secret Service! The intelligence system which located this remote island as the hiding-place, real or imaginary, of treasure, is remarkable! The resource you displayed in acquiring the document which now rests in the letter-case in your pocket does credit both to the service and yourself. My congratulations!"
Here he paused to light his cigar from a pocket-lighter and with lips pursed up, noisily exhaled a long puff of smoke, cocking his head to watch the smoke drift aloft. It was nonchalantly done. But I knew that in reality he was watching me.
I felt puzzled. Obviously, he was feeling his way;ergo, he was not sure of his ground. And he had no inkling, apparently, of the aimless way in which I had stumbled upon this amazing adventure. He seemed to believe that I wasen service commandé. Well, I could put up a bit of bluff on that....
"You will at least do us the justice," he resumed, "of not withholding your admiration of the way in which, as the result of careful planning, this pleasant reunion of to-day was achieved. The luck was on your side that night at Rodriguez, Herr Major; if my orders had been carried out, we should have spared ourselves—and you—this cruise in the Pacific...."
"You mean," I retorted, "that, if your spy had done his work properly, he would have cut my throat as well as that other poor fellow's and the woman's...."
"I can honestly say," observed Clubfoot, blinking his eyes benignly at me, "that I should have sincerely deplored such an eventuality...."—he paused and smiled expansively;—"at hands other than my own...."
My brain was working rapidly. Grundt was apparently alone. But, knowing the man, I guessed he had help in the vicinity to summon at need. Therefore, even if I could get past that gun of his, a frontal attack was out of the question. I wondered whether, if my return to camp were over-long delayed, Garth or Carstairs would come out in search of me. At best we were only three. Against how many? So far I only knew of two, the stranger at the graveside and Black Pablo. But to have brought a ship here from Rodriguez argued a crew. In any case we were hopelessly outnumbered....
Curiously enough, Clubfoot himself answered my unspoken question.
"Now, Okewood," he said leaning forward and looking sharply at me, "I don't have to tell a man of your intuition and.... and imagination that the game is up. I shall be quite frank with you,jawohl. We are fourteen against you and your two companions. I am well acquainted with your movements, you see. And, to remove any misapprehension from your mind, let me say at once that I am not the only German in our company. You are not dealing exclusively with men of the calibre of Black Pablo whose minds are a confusion of murder and the soft allurements of love. You will be wise to capitulate gracefully and hand over that message which, incidentally, was never meant for you. And perhaps, since two heads are better than one—and, I have, as you know, the highest opinion of your intelligence—I might consider allowing you to help in working out the clue...."
Again that note of doubt! Then I realised that I was, after all, the only man, barring Dutchey who was dead, who had spoken to Adams. Apparently Clubfoot believed that I might have information as to the hiding-place of the treasure additional to the indications in the message. Now I began to understand the meaning of his honeyed words, his deadly suavity. And I guessed that he could notaffordto kill me—at least, not yet.
"Grundt," said I, speaking with all the decision I could command, "if you think I'm going to work in with you, you're making a big mistake. On the contrary, I'm going to show you what it means for a German, after the Armistice, to lay hands on an Allied subject. Your knowledge of our Intelligence service will tell you that it does not leave its agents unprotected...."
I broke off significantly and looked at him. Mine were brave words enough, though, the Lord knows, my heart was in my boots. But bluff, I have often noticed, has a heartening effect upon the bluffer; and I was summoning all my strength to face whatever dark fate was in store for me. For I realised that, whether Grundt and his merry men found the treasure or not, either way my chances at long last of leaving the island alive were of the smallest.
Very coolly Clubfoot flicked the ash off his cigar.
"Quite, quite!" he observed carelessly. "But for the time being, my friend, let us not forget that you have to forgo that protection. AnEngländerin the hand is worth two light cruisers in the Pacific. You take me?"
With his cigar thrust out at a defiant angle from his mouth, he planked his hairy hands palms downwards on his knees.
"I'll put the situation quite plainly before you!" he said. "You're in grave danger, Okewood. I've a rough lot of shipmates and they've got the treasure fever in their blood. My German companions have no liking for their dear English cousins. We have some survivors of von Spee's squadron; they are absurdly prejudiced against you and your race. The brother of the gentleman who wrote that message in your pocket is with me. He was an officer of theGneisenausunk by your Admiral Sturdee at the Falkland Islands...."
There came into my mind the picture of that blonde youth as I had seen him in the storm standing with bowed head at the grave.
"....We have the bo'sun of theNürnberg, her sister vessel, and a couple ofBlaujackenof theDresdenwho swam ashore after your Navy destroyed their ship off Juan Fernandez, besides various army veterans from France. And, my dear Okewood, I need scarcely tell you that, after the Somme and the Hindenburg Line, our brave 'eighty-fivers' dislike you British even as much as our sailormen do...."
A little tremor ran through me. My hands were shaking with excitement behind my head.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"You must let me take my hands down, Herr Doktor," I said.
He glanced sharply at me, then picked up his pistol.
"Why?" he demanded fiercely.
"To get out my letter-case!"
Clubfoot nodded sagely.
"So, so!" he murmured, and his fleshy lips bared his yellow teeth in a cunning smile. "You have taken my advice.Gut, gut!"
But then he flashed at me a look full of suspicion and menace.
"No tricks!" he warned in a harsh voice of command. "Himmelkreuzsakrament nochmal! If you play me false, you dog, I'll blow your brains all over the ravine! Now, bring your hands slowly down and remember, one suspicious gesture will cost you your life!"
"Calm yourself, Herr Doktor!" I rejoined. "I know when I am beaten!"
And I made to pitch the letter-case on to the slab at his side.
Ah, but he was the cautious one, was old Clubfoot.... cautious with that deadly thoroughness of the Germans that gave a fellow who fell into their hands in the war such a very slender chance. He was taking no risks. With an imperious gesture he stopped me and made me take out the message from the case myself.
"Now throw it on the ground in front of you and turn about!"
I dropped the little flannel-encased package at his feet and swung round. I heard the cripple grunt with excitement as he stooped; I could picture to myself the eagerness with which he snatched up the message. A moment's silence;—then he bade me face him again.
"I think you acted wisely," he said with his slow smile. "Bah! You hadn't a dog's chance. See....!"
He blew three short blasts on a silver whistle he drew from his waistcoat pocket. Immediately a little cloud of men broke out from the cover of the trees at his back.
There were, perhaps, half-a-dozen of them. They were a villainous-looking lot with the exception of a fresh-faced, clean-cut young man whose pink-and-white complexion and fair hair were in striking contrast with the swarthy features and stubbly chins of his companions. I knew him again for the man at the graveside. Another I particularly noticed was a squat, obese fellow with a patch over one eye, the other dull and malevolent. On his yellow jaundiced face a mass of blue-black stubble extended from the cheek-bones down to the loose folds of his double chin, while a twisted and flattened nose, which looked as though a heavy hand had tweaked it, lent a crowning touch of distortion to a face which was, I think, the vilest I have ever seen. From Adams's description I recognised Black Pablo.
Grundt halted them with an imperious gesture.
"Herr Major," he remarked sleekly, "I need not detain you further. A word of advice to you, however, the counsel of a friend. Now that you will have the leisure to devote yourself to that Government survey work on which, of course, you came to Cock Island, I would suggest that you confine your activities to the shores of.... let me see, what was the name?.... ah yes, of Horseshoe Bay. The interior of this delightful island, so they tell me, is most unhealthy and I should be desolated were any accident to befall you."
He paused and meditatively fingered his heavy chin.
"Noch eins! If you should be tempted by some slight feeling of irritation at anything I have said or done to contemplate reprisals or anything calculated to interfere with the.... er, research work of myself and my companions, let me warn you that I have the means of very quickly bringing you...."—he stopped and added significantly,—"andyour friend to your senses!Kinder!"
His voice rang triumphantly as he turned to his companions.
"Ich hab's!"
With a whoop of excitement the ragged band gathered about him. They had forgotten all about me, seemingly. I had a last glimpse of Grundt, leaning heavily on his stick, holding aloft in one great hairy paw the little square of oilsilk.
Dejectedly I slunk away.
My back view, head sunk forward, shoulders humped up, gave, I believe, a convincing picture of utter abasement as I slowly retraced my steps down the ravine. But the moment I was out of sight of the ill-favoured group about the rock, I darted into the thickest part of the jungle and, after dragging myself painfully through the undergrowth for about a hundred yards, sank down hot and breathless.
I did not care whether I was followed or not. I wanted to be alone to compose my thoughts, to think. My brain was still reeling beneath the shock of my stupendous good fortune. Five minutes since I would scarcely have given a sixpence for my chances of life. Yet here I had regained my freedom of action, had lulled old Clubfoot, by giving him an easy victory, into a false sense of security and, at the same time, had obtained the solution of the knottiest point of the whole cipher message. At the thought that it was Grundt himself who had given me the clue which, till then, I had vainly sought, I leant back and laughed.
"After the Somme and the Hindenburg Line," he had said, "our brave 'eighty-fivers' dislike you British even as much as our sailor-men do...."
"Unsere braven Fünf-und-Achtziger" .... he had used the German phrase and in a flash brought back to my mind a bit of German naval slang which I had heard so long ago that I had forgotten it! "Die Fünf-und-Achtziger!" What memories of pre-war days the phrase awakened! Dinner at Kiel in the ward-room of the German flagship, the tables ablaze with blue and gold uniforms sparkling with decorations, guest night in the mess of the Kaiser Franz Hussars at Stettin.... and always army and navy "shop" the staple theme of our table talk. To the Imperial Navy the German Army was (slightly superciliously, for the rivalry between the two was intense) "die Fünf-und-Achtziger" because the 85th Infantry Regiment composed the garrison of Kiel, Germany's premier war-harbour.
The garrison of Kiel! Clubfoot, like all his master'sentourage, was in closest touch with the Fleet, the Kaiser's own creation. That scrap of navy slang came naturally to his lips and in uttering it, he had sent with a flash the cipher to my mind.
"Flimmer', flimmer' viel""Die Garnison von Kiel"
The garrison of Kiel represented the figure "85." How, then, did the cipher runen clair?
Heliograph85Compass bearing of 27 degrees.
Eighty-five, I realised at once, was the angle for the heliograph. The message, therefore, read:—
"Turn the heliograph at an angle of 85 degrees (i.e., from the horizontal since it had been wired so as only to be raised or lowered) on a compass bearing of 27 degrees...."
The weight of the little mirror in my jacket pocket heartened me immensely. Clubfoot, I knew, would see the figure "85" in the allusion to the Kiel garrison. But the mirror was the starting-point for the whole cipher.And he had never known that a mirror was on the grave! The mirror, fixed in position as I had found it, made the first half of the message as clear as day. Without this essential pointer the cipher itself would be useless to Clubfoot. Even if his remarkably astute brain should divine the allusion to a heliograph in that first line, he would not have the mirror....
In any case, his investigations would be delayed. And I was playing for time. Six days must elapse, I reflected, before the yacht could return. For how many of these would I continue to enjoy my liberty? For as soon as Clubfoot realised that he had been fooled, I knew that he would once again stretch out that long arm of his to seize me. I should have to find a secure hiding-place—I thought of the high ground of the island, somewhere among those lofty volcanic peaks, in this connection—but the present need was for action. In the light of the fresh clue I had obtained, I must push on with my investigation at the grave itself and that without a moment's delay. For the rest of the cipher, notably those baffling bars of music, which were firmly fixed in my mind,—well, sufficient for the day is the evil thereof!
I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past eleven. "Mittag"—noon—the message was dated, clearly an indication of the time at which the experiment with the heliograph was to be made. If I were to act, I must act at once. Fortunately, the grave could not be far from where I lay. But what of Clubfoot?
The sound of voices came as if in answer to my query—of voices close at hand. Parting the foliage in front of me, I saw a file of men winding their way through the forest not twenty paces away. They appeared to be following some kind of path; for they marched steadily, one behind the other.
I pressed myself flat behind my protecting bush, only my head raised to observe the men as they went by. Now scraps of German came to my ears. There was talk of someone they called "Red Itzig," a Jew, who was to read the cipher for them. Itzig was apparently ill for there was some chaff about "the Jew" being cured as soon as he could hear that the treasure was within their grasp.
Did this mean that they were going back to their camp? And that the coast was clear for that pressing work I had to do. Five minutes, I calculated, would suffice for my purpose.
I kept a sharp eye open for Clubfoot. Here he came, the eighth in the party, hobbling along in the rear, with set face, grim and silent. The line halted for a moment. The man in front of Clubfoot, a small, dark man, doffed his panama to sponge his face. To my amazement it was Custrin.... Custrin, whom I had last seen, at the side of Marjorie Garth, standing at the head of theNaomi'sladder waving us farewell as the launch took us ashore....
Now I had the solution of something that had greatly puzzled me—Clubfoot's exact knowledge of where I kept the cipher message, his allusion to my "Government survey work" on Cock Island. Then Custrin was one of El Cojo's spies! With a little shiver I thought of that hocussed drink. What would have been my fate that night but for the merciful intervention of Providence? I could make a pretty shrewd guess. They would have found me insensible in my berth and Custrin gone in the morning—in one of the ship's boats. I wondered vaguely what had become of the doctor whose papers he must have appropriated....
The voices had died away now and Clubfoot, the last of the line, had disappeared from my sight. I had counted eight in the party. All, therefore, seemed to have passed. Softly I began to wriggle myself forward....
I reached the path which the party had followed. It was a well-marked track through the forest. The trees were not so dense here, and above my head I caught at intervals a glimpse of dazzling blue sky. The sun was very hot.
Quietly and quickly I went down the track, heading for the direction from which Clubfoot and his men had come. I went warily, bitterly conscious of my defenceless state. But I met no one and presently I stood on the edge of the clearing, the grave of the Unknown below me.
The clearing was all a-quiver with heat; gorgeous-hued butterflies danced from bush to bush amid flaming flowers; the drone of insects was in the air. I skirted the edge of the basin, then silently dropped down to the grave.
I took out the little mirror and gave it a good rub-up with my handkerchief. Then, going down on my knees, I laid it on the grave as I had originally found it—face upwards with the holes in the frame aligned with the holes in the timber baulk beneath. With my compass I took my bearing of 27 degrees, adjusted the mirror's position to the line it gave and then raised the glass on its base until it stood, as far as one might reckon by the eye, at an angle of 85 degrees from the horizontal.
I looked at my watch. It marked five minutes to twelve.
A gleaming speck of light flamed on the mirror's polished surface as it caught the sun, danced on fern and bush and boulder as I raised the glass and then, as I steadied it, came tremulously to rest on the topmost pinnacle of that terraced rock which Garth and I had climbed on the previous afternoon.
From where I stood I could see the edges of the three shelves which had been cut by some forgotten generation of cave-dwellers out of the friable volcanic rock. The speck of light trembled on the crag on a level with the topmost terrace. It rested on a tall, flat stone which stood out from the rest of the weather-beaten face of the rock because its surface was smooth while all the rest was jagged and serrated. Only the upper part of this pillar-like stone was visible to me; for the projecting edge of the terrace cut off the rest from my sight. As far as I could judge the pillar must have been hewn out of the face of the rock on the highest shelf.
The stone was easy to identify. I felt a little thrill of excitement. What should I find on scaling the rock? From the first terrace on which Garth and I had rested before the thunderstorm there had been, I now recalled, a little winding path leading aloft. What did the cipher say?
"Past the Sugar-Loaf you see the Lorelei"And if you want the little treasure"
I quoted to myself and realised, with a pang, that I was still without the key to the riddle of those four bars of music. Well, the next thing to do was to climb to that topmost shelf....
Suddenly Garth and Carstairs came into my mind. With a little twinge of conscience I became aware that, in the excitement of the morning's events, I had completely forgotten them. I was sorely tempted to push on with my quest. But I thrust the temptation aside. My encounter with Clubfoot had put an entirely new complexion on the situation. I should have to consider seriously with my companions what we were going to do. After all it was I who had brought Garth into this business.... With a last regretful glance at that terraced crag where all my hopes were centred, I turned my back on the grave and set my face for the shore. When I emerged at the top of the beach, the first thing I saw was theNaomi'slaunch drawn up on the shining white sand.
Garth, followed by Carstairs, tumbled out of the cave at my approach.
"Okewood," cried the baronet and his face was very grave, "what does this mean?"
He pointed at the launch.
"It means," said I, "that Dr. Custrin fooled us, Sir Alexander. You say he presented letters of recommendation?"
"Certainly. From my New York manager!"
"Well, they were stolen. I have just seen Custrin in the forest. He obviously took the yacht's launch to come ashore and join his employer...."
"His employer?"
"El Cojo!"
Then I told him about my meeting with Grundt and of the previous history of the man, of Custrin's attempts to get me to show him the message and of the opiate he had put in my drink. Garth listened without interruption but his eyes began to bulge and his cheeks to redden in an ominous way.
"Dang it!" he burst out at length, and the northern burr crept into his speech as it did when he got angry, "I'll see this club-footed man and learn him to send his spies on to my yacht. A German, too! I'll talk to him. I'll...."
I observed that they were fourteen to three.
"It will be at least six days before theNaomicalls for us," I pointed out, "and for that time we are practically at their mercy...."
"And to think that those damned doctors wouldn't let me have the wireless on the yacht!" exclaimed the baronet. "Wait till I get a cable-instrument. If I don't have a warship here within a week...."
"We've got to do somethingnow, Sir Alexander!" I broke in. "If Grundt realises that he has been tricked before we are out of his clutches all a British warship can do is to give us a military funeral. Do you understand me? Now I had thought of withdrawing our guns and stores to the upper part of the island and trying to find a safe hiding-place there until theNaomicomes back. But the sight of the launch has given me a better idea than that. By the way, where did you find her?"
"About half a mile down the coast, under some branches she was!" said Carstairs. "I was having a bit of a look round and I came upon her. She'd had a rough time, by the look of her. There was a lot of water in her afore I baled her out. I brought her round and beached her...."
"Is there any petrol in her?" I asked him.
"She always carries a reserve of forty gallons," Garth replied. "And that's intact. And her tank's half full!"
"Then," said I broaching my idea, "why shouldn't you and Carstairs take her and fetch theNaomiback? Alcedo is only a matter of a hundred miles or so. You could be back here with the yacht to-morrow or the next day. You've got the chart, haven't you?"
"Aye," rejoined Garth slowly, "I've got the chart and a compass. But we're not leaving you here?"
"Yes," I said, "you are."
And I drew him aside.
"With luck," I told him, "I may have twenty-four hours—not more—in which to work undisturbed on the clearing-up of the cipher. I have no right to throw this chance away. If I were to go with you and to find, on our return, that Clubfoot and his gang had stolen a march of us and found the treasure, I should never forgive myself.... And there's another thing! I've brought you into this mess, Garth, and, believe me, I take it very kindly of you that you have never once reproached me, as was your right, with my responsibility in the matter. Knowing that you are out of the island I shall have my mind easy on that score. Besides, I shall be able to reckon on your being back within forty-eight hours and can lay my plans accordingly!"
I had a lot of trouble to overcome his resistance; for he was a stout-hearted fellow. But my mind was made up. All my life I have played a lone hand and I knew that I should face the future with greater confidence by myself. In the end I had my way and the three of us immediately set about filling up the launch with stores and water.
In half an hour all was ready. We pushed the launch down into the water and shook hands all round.
"If I don't show up when you land," was my parting injunction to Garth, "occupy the beach here and wait for me. I shall always have the cave to come back to. And fire a gun, when you sight the island, to let me know you're here!"
With that Carstairs started the engine and churning up the green water, the launch glided out into the harbour. I did not wait to see her fade out of sight in the spray of the surf-bar for I had not a moment to lose. I made at once for the cave to collect a few provisions for my change of camp.
*****
I had filled a knapsack and was strapping it when a sudden sound brought me hastily to the mouth of the cave. The launch had disappeared and the bay lay deserted before me.
Somewhere in the woods behind me I had heard a woman scream.
It was the high-pitched cry of a woman in terror. It rang out sharply over the ominous silence, resting on that quiet island. And it was not far away. Clapping my hand to my pocket to make sure I had the automatic pistol which Carstairs had pressed upon me before he left, I dropped the knapsack and darted from the cave.
I had no clear purpose in my mind, I think. Did not Edmund Burke tell us that the age of chivalry is dead? But half the battle in this curious work of ours is knowing what the other fellow is up to and I have never been able to sit down quietly under uncertainty.
Swiftly I mounted the rocky slope from the shore. Behind me the gulls uttered their mournful cries as they hung above the placid sea and in the woods around me there was the loud chatter of birds. But there was no sound of human voice.
Then suddenly I came upon Marjorie Garth in a little open space between two moss-grown boulders. Though I could hardly believe my own eyes there was no mistake about it; for her face was turned towards me. And she was struggling in the arms of Custrin. Her face was very pale and in her grey eyes was a look of despair which I shall not easily forget. She was wearing no hat and her gold-brown hair tossed to and fro as with one hand thrust in her opponent's face, she fought desperately to keep him off.
It all happened in a flash. The next thing I knew, I felt the bite of my knuckles in Custrin's damp neck as, my hand firmly clutching his collar, I tore him backwards. All my resentment against this false, sleek, smooth-spoken creature welled up within me and I exulted to feel him stagger and wilt, then crumple up in a grasp which I willed to be as violent and brutal as mind and muscle could make it.
Caught unawares he reeled backwards inert, for a fraction of a second a dead weight in my hold. But then he reacted. I felt his wiry frame stiffen as he struggled to elude me. But I held fast and swinging him round, gave him my fist in his face.
It was the force of my own blow that sent him from my hands,—staggering against a rock which brought him up standing. A single word he spoke.
"Herr!" he cried and the word burst in a kind of sob from his throat. In the crisis his native tongue came to his lips and in that moment I knew Dr. Custrin for a German.
There was murder in his quick, black eyes. His hand clawed for his hip-pocket but I was at him at once, driving for his face again. This time he dodged the blow and I felt my wrist rasp on the rough boulder behind him. For all his pretty drawing-room ways he was game enough, and with outstretched hands made at my throat.
But I drew back swiftly and as he came at me, let fly with my left to the point of the chin. He stopped dead, his eyes goggling, his head sagging on his shoulders. Then he crumpled up in a mass at my feet.
I turned to Marjorie. She stood, where I had found her, against the other boulder, dabbing at her lips with her handkerchief, her breath coming and going in quick gasps.
"The beast!" she said and her voice broke. "The beast!"
Then, plaintively like a little child, she cried:—
"Where is Daddy? Oh, please, will you take me to him...."
"Your father has gone to fetch the yacht," I answered and broke off in sheer perplexity. WherewastheNaomi? The unexplained appearance of Marjorie on the island complicated matters horribly. Alone I was content to face the prospect of eluding Clubfoot and the vengeance he would surely try to wreak on me. But with a woman....!
There was nothing for it but to put into execution the plan I had already formed. I must find—and that without an instant's delay—a hiding-place and withdraw there with the girl. That must be my first care. The future must look after itself.
And the cipher? My intention had been to scale the terraced rock to follow up the next clue. There were caves there in which we could shelter and the topmost terrace would surely afford a view over the sea and enable us to sight theNaomias soon as she appeared off the island.
We would make for the terraces and lie, snugly hidden there, until the yacht came back. And in this way I might also continue to follow up the clue to the treasure. But we must have food and arms. We should have to go back to the cave on the shore.
I looked at Custrin. He lay like a log.
"Come," I said to Marjorie, who was now looking at me curiously.
I glanced down at my clothes and realised that my appearance must be nothing less than forbidding—my face grimy and unshaven, my white drill torn and stained and my boots all soggy with sea-water.
"You look so tired.... and so grave," she said. "What can have happened?"
"Let us go back to the camp," I rejoined, "and I'll tell you as we go."
"What about.... him?" she asked and looked at the prone form of the doctor.
"He'll sleep it off!" said I, "and the longer his slumbers last the better I shall be pleased!"
"But we can't go away and leave him like this!" she expostulated.
"When you have heard my story," I rejoined, "you will think as I do. He'll be all right. He's stirring already. Come! Let's go back to the shore!"
As we turned in the direction of the beach, I said:—
"But how on earth did you come to be here? What has happened to theNaomi?"
A little red crept into the girl's cheeks and she bit her lip.
"I wasn't going to be left behind. I told Captain Lawless so. I insisted on joining Daddy on shore. There was an awful row, but"—triumphantly—"I had my own way in the end. It was really Dr. Custrin who managed it for me. He said he would take the responsibility of explaining to Daddy that Iwouldcome. And, as the captain was anxious to be off, he said he would let us keep the launch. TheNaomiwent on to Alcedo...."
"But," I said, "where have you been since yesterday?"
Marjorie laughed mischievously.
"Daddy will be out of his mind when I tell him," she replied. "I spent the night at a prospector's camp. Dr. Custrin found that he knew some of the men there."
I stared at her in astonishment.
"Was the leader a club-footed man?" I asked.
"Yes!" rejoined the girl in a bubble of laughter. "Such a funny old thing.... a German. There were lots of Germans there. It was quite extraordinary.... like a dream!"
"But," I protested, "why didn't you land on our beach? Why was it necessary to spend the night with these people? A girl like you, alone!"
"Oh," she laughed back at me, "you needn't be so scandalised. I can take care of myself. I meant to bring Yvonne, my maid, you know, with me, but the silly creature lost her courage when it came to dropping into the launch and she wouldn't come. Just as we were through the surf-bar we were caught in that tremendous thunderstorm and we had to run straight for the shore. We tied up the launch and started to walk through the woods. Then we came upon this party of prospectors. Dr. Custrin seemed very surprised to find them there. He said it would be impossible to locate your camp in the dark and we should have to stay the night. They were all very nice to me and I had a room in a sort of wooden hut just above the beach."
Mentally, I took off my hat to Custrin. Not only had he contrived to get ashore without arousing suspicions but he had brought with him a most valuable hostage. Grundt had spoken of having the means of bringing us to our senses. Now I knew what he had had in mind....
"When I woke up this morning," Marjorie continued, "I found that everybody, including Dr. Custrin, had gone. A hideous-looking negro was left in charge. There was some man ill, too, in one of the huts. The negro seemed to be watching me all the time and I got horribly frightened. So, after waiting a long time for the doctor to come back, I decided to start off and find Daddy and you for myself. The sick man called the negro into the hut for a moment and I got away. Then I met Dr. Custrin in the woods and he tried to stop me. He wanted to kiss me, too...."
She paused and looked at me curiously.
"You hit him very hard, didn't you?" she remarked.
"I'd have twisted his neck clean off," I answered savagely, "If I'd known then what I know now!"
"I thought you were going to kill him," said the girl. "You must have a very bad temper, Major Okewood," she added sedately.
After what I had already gone through that day, it galled me to think of the two of us chatting away as inconsequently as though we were on the lawns at Ascot. No man, I grant you, could have had a more charming companion than Marjorie Garth and she was as pretty as a picture in the plain tussore riding costume she wore with a rakish little brown felt hat.
But I was in no mood for badinage. I was haunted by the imminent peril of our position and weighed down by my responsibility for the safety of this girl. So bluntly, for my nerves were on edge and every flowering bush seemed to conceal an enemy, I told her how things stood. She listened very quietly but when I had finished I noticed that her little air of raillery had gone.
"If you only knew," I concluded, "how bitterly I reproach myself for bringing you into this...."
"When you came on board theNaomi," Marjorie said gently, "you could not tell that you would be followed to the island."
"That," I rejoined rather forlornly, "is my only excuse."
We halted in the woods on coming in sight of the sea. The beach was deserted, as we had left it, with the sea-birds wheeling ceaselessly over the bay and the tide lapping gently on the white sand.
The light was mellowing. My watch showed it to be five o'clock.
"We shall have to hurry," I warned, "for we must be in our new retreat before it is dark."
I bade her wait there while I fetched from the cave the knapsack I had packed and the Winchester.
I advanced cautiously down the shore. I wondered what Grundt was doing. How oppressive the island silence was! It unsettled me. I thought of the strange unnatural hush which is said to precede an earthquake.
I bent down and lifted the pall of creeper screening the mouth of the cave. As I entered a bulky form rose up from one of the beds. There was no mistaking that massive figure, its slow, deliberate movement. I sprang back but the creeper hampered my movements and before I could gain the open, my shoulders were firmly grasped, my arms pinioned. I sought to twist myself free but I was held by those who must have held a man before and I could barely struggle in that iron grip. As I thus stood helpless I heard Marjorie cry out.
They pushed me into the cool dimness of the cave. An odour of unwashed humanity, which blended gratefully with a searching smell of garlic, hung about my unseen captors.
"Herrgott!" cried Grundt, "it's as dark as pitch in this hole. Cut away this cursed plant, some of you, and let's have some light!"
The creeper fell away. The golden sunlight that flooded the cave showed me Clubfoot, his black-tufted hands folded across the crutch handle of his heavy stick, grim and lowering.
Black Pablo and a regular Hercules of a man, a broad-chested, yellow-bearded giant, a good type of the German bluejacket from the Frisian seaboard, were holding me. Grundt made a quick gesture of the hand.
"Take away his gun!" he ordered.
The fair young man I had seen at the graveside stepped forward. Roughly, vindictively, he ran his hands over me. He found Carstairs' automatic in my side pocket and transferred it to his own.
"You see these men," said Clubfoot, bending his bushy eyebrows at me. "Their orders are to shoot to kill in the event of any attempt on your part to escape. And whatever your private views on suicide may be you will probably bear in mind that Miss Garth—the charming Miss Garth—will, in any case, be left to mourn you...."
This allusion to Marjorie frightened me. There was no suavity about Clubfoot now. He was in his blackest, most menacing mood. His face was positively baleful; and there was a twitching of his black-bristled nostrils which warned me that he was on the verge of a paroxysm of fury.
"Leave me alone with him!" he commanded brusquely—his voice was harsh and snarling—"but remain outside within call!"
I felt the blood rush back into my numbed arms as the men relaxed their grip and withdrew.
Nervously Grundt's great fist beat a little tattoo on his open palm. He appeared to be making an effort to control himself.
"You would play a double game with me, would you?" he said. "No man has ever double-crossed me and got away with it, do you hear? My master may be in exile, my country fallen from greatness; butIam king here. Do you understand that?"
His pale lips trembled and he stuttered as he strove to master his rising passion.
"This cipher message is useless, as well you know. Without the preliminary indication, it is unintelligible. So Itzig, who in his day was the greatest cipher expert the Russian Okhrana ever had, has reported to me. And you knew it, you.... you...."
He pawed the air with his huge hand, the fingers outstretched.
"They have examined his grave again. There are signs that something was attached to the timber-work. What that was the drunken Englishman who first visited the grave must have known. And he confided it to you. 'I know when I'm beaten, Herr Doktor'; and 'I'll give you the cipher,' say you! You thought you were too clever for old Clubfoot, the cripple, the beaten Hun. But I'm master here, Herr Major, and you shall do my bidding!...."
"You are misinformed, Herr Doktor!" I said, trying to speak calmly. My lips were dry and my heart-beats thumped in my ears. But I was not thinking of myself. I was tormented with anxiety for Marjorie—Marjorie in the hands of those men.
"Don't answer hastily!" counselled Grundt changing to a tone of deadly calm that struck chill on my heart. "Ulrich von Hagel, who wrote that message, left it for one who should come after him, who would be a naval officer like himself. He wrote it so that it should be unintelligible to the casual person into whose hands it might fall, yet as clear as day to one of his own caste. And you would tell me that the message as it stands is all he left behind!Nein, nein, Herr Major, es geht nicht! I know that you have this information"—he crashed his fist into his open hand—"and you are going to give it to me!"
I shrugged my shoulders. I would not speak yet. Sooner or later, I knew, they would use Marjorie to break my silence. Then it would be time to speak. Till then I must await developments. After all, time was on my side.
My gesture seemed to rekindle all Grundt's rage. Slowly the colour faded out of his face, leaving it livid save where that hideous scar beneath the cheek-bone made an angry patch of red. His bushy eyebrows drew together and his mouth trembled.
"So you'd still play with me, would you, you scum?" he shouted, his voice rising to a roar. "You'd pit your wits against mine, would you?Herrgott, I have an account to settle with you and that brother of yours, and, by God! I'm going to settle it! And you shall pay double for the pair of you! Do you know...."—his voice dropped to a savage whisper—"that these German seamen of mine would cheerfully abandon all claim to the treasure for the pleasure of taking vengeance on you for all your country has made them suffer in these long years, hunted, degraded, outcast?
"Do you realise that I have but to raise my hand and you're a doomed man, and not the whole might of the British Empire could save you? But we shall take our time. You will not die too soon, my friend. First you shall speak! And if you remain obstinate, there is always the charming English girl...."
He clapped his hands. On a sudden the cave seemed filled with angry, shouting men. My head swam for I was worn out with want of sleep and faint with hunger. Something struck me on the back of the neck a violent blow. I felt myself falling, falling....
*****
How long I remained unconscious I don't know. When I regained my senses it was to find myself in semi-darkness in a long, low-roofed shed. It was dimly lit by a ruddy light which fell through some kind of grating in the roof. I could see no windows. The atmosphere was stifling and the floor and walls fairly swarmed with enormous cockroaches.
They had laid me down on a pile of sail-cloth in a corner. My head was splitting and I had a raging thirst. My pockets had been rifled and my brandy-flask was gone. I leaned back on my hard couch, my head against the rough wall of planks, and idly watched the flickering reddish light that filtered through the grating. I was vaguely aware of some unpleasant news that lurked, like a robber in ambush, in some unfrequented corner of my brain ready to pounce out upon my first conscious thought....
Somewhere outside a guitar was thrumming random passages of Spanish dances, punctuated, now and then, by a little burst of castanets. The soft murmur of voices became audible every time the guitar stopped, with here a laugh and there an exclamation. Presently a voice called "Pablo!": the lilting rhythm of a dance theme stopped—suddenly in the middle of a bar—and the click of the castanets was stilled. Then, to soft, plaintive chords heavily stressed, an exquisite liquid tenor voice began to sing.
"Se murio, y sobre su cara""Un panuelito le heche....""Por que no toque la tierra....""Esa bocca que yo bese!...."