A hasty note had been despatched to the Fort by Glyddyr, announcing that
a friend had come down from town, and that to entertain him he was going
to take him for a short cruise in his yacht. Then there were the
customary hopes that Gartram was better, and with kindest regards to
Miss Gartram, Glyddyr remained his very sincerely.
"I don't like going off like this," grumbled Glyddyr; "it looks as if I
were being scared away."
"Well, that is curious," said Gellow, with mock seriousness.
"And it's like retreating from the field and leaving it to Lisle."
"Who the deuce is Lisle?"
"Eh? A man I know. Had a bit of a quarrel with him," said Glyddyr
hastily.
"Quarrel? What about?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing."
Gellow talked in a light, bantering strain, but behind the mask of
lightness he assumed, a keen observer would have noticed that he was all
on the strain to notice everything, and he noted that there was
something under Glyddyrs careless way of turning the subject aside.
"Rival, of course," thought Gellow.
They were walking down toward the pier, and as they neared the sea
Glyddyrs pace grew slower, and his indecision more marked.
"I can't afford to trifle with this affair," he said. "I don't think
I'll go."
"Well, don't go. Stop and order a nice piquant delicate little dinner
in case Madame Denise comes, something of the _Trois Freres Provencaux_
style, and I'll stop and dine with you, play gooseberry, and keep you
from quarrelling."
"Come along," said Glyddyr sharply; "we'll go, but I believe she will
not come. No, I won't go. Suppose she does come down, and I'm not
here, and she begins to make inquiries?"
"Bosh! If she comes and finds you are not here, the first inquiry she
makes will be for when you went away, the second, for where you went."
"Possibly."
"Then let drop to some one that you are going to Redport, or Rainsbury,
and she'll make at once for there."
"Confound you!" cried Glyddyr sharply. "Nature must have meant you for
a fox."
"You said a rat just now, dear boy. I never studied Darwin. Have it
your own way. That our boat?"
"That's my boat," said Glyddyr sharply, as they reached the end of the
pier.
"In with you, then," cried Gellow; and then, in a voice loud enough to
be heard on the nearest brig in the harbour, "Think the wind will hold
good for Redport?"
Glyddyr growled, and followed his companion into the boat, which was
pushed off directly.
"I don't believe she'll come down," he whispered to Gellow, as the two
sailors bent to their oars, and the boat began to surge through the
clear water.
"Not likely," said Gellow. "Look!"
Glyddyr gave a hasty glance back, and saw that which made him sit fast
staring straight before him, and say, in a quick low voice,--
"Give way, my lads; I want to get on board."
Then followed the excited appearance of the lady at the end of the pier,
the cries to them to stop, and the plunge into the water.
"Well, she is a tartar," whispered Gellow.
"Don't look back, man."
"Oh, all right. Water isn't deep, I suppose?"
"Look, sir," cried one of the sailors. "Shall we row back?"
"No; go on."
"Water's ten foot deep, sir, and the tide's running like mad," cried the
man excitedly.
"Some one will help the lady out," said Glyddyr hastily. "Plenty of
hands there."
"Hooray!" cried one of the men, as Chris leaped off the pier.
"Tell them to back water," whispered Gellow excitedly. "It's murder,
man."
Glyddyr made no reply, but seemed as if stricken with paralysis, as he
looked back with a strangely confused set of thoughts struggling
together in his brain, foremost among which, and mastering all the
others, was one that seemed to suggest that fate was saving him from
endless difficulties, for if the woman whom he could see being swept
away by the swift current sank, to rise no more, before his boat reached
her, his future would be assured.
He made a feeble effort, though, to save the drowning pair, giving
orders in a half-hearted way, trembling violently the while, and unable
to crush the hope that the attempt might be unsuccessful.
The men backed water rapidly, and Gellow raised the boat-hook, holding
it well out over the stern in time to make the sharp snatch, which took
effect in Chris's back, and holding on till more help came and they
reached the pier.
"It's all over," whispered Glyddyr bitterly, as willing hands dragged
Chris and his insensible companion up the steps.
"Not it," was whispered back. "Will you leave yourself in my hands?"
"I am in them already."
"Don't fool," said Gellow quickly. "You have got to marry that girl for
your own sake."
"And for yours."
"Call it so if you like; but will you trust me to get you out of this
scrape?"
"Yes, curse you: do what you like."
"Bless you, then, my dear boy; off you go."
"What do you mean?"
"Be off to the yacht, set sail, and don't come back to Danmouth till I
tell you it's safe."
"Do you mean this?"
"Of course. But keep me posted as to your whereabouts."
"Here?"
"No; in town."
"But what are you going to do?"
"Fight for your interests, and mine. That woman's my wife, come down
after me, and I'm going to take her home. See?"
"Not quite."
"Then stop blind. Be off, quick."
This hurried colloquy took place in the boat by the rough granite
stairs, the attention of those about being taken up by the two
half-drowned people on the pier, the excited talk making the words
inaudible save to those concerned.
"Now, then," whispered Gellow, "you'll leave it to me?"
"Yes," said Glyddyr, hesitating.
"_Carte blanche_?"
"You'll do nothing--"
He did not finish the sentence.
"_Carte blanche_?" said Gellow again.
"Well, yes."
"Right; and every lie I tell goes down to your account, dear boy.
Bye-bye. Off you go," he said aloud, as he sprang on the stones. "I'm
very sorry, Glyddyr; I apologise. If I had known she would follow me, I
wouldn't have come."
"Give way," said Glyddyr, thrusting the boat from the steps; and he sank
down in the stern, heedless of the dripping seat, and thinking deeply as
the pier seemed to slip away from him, and with it the woman who had for
years been, as he styled it, his curse.
He only glanced back once, and saw that Chris Lisle was being helped up
into a sitting position, but the little crowd closed round him, and he
saw no more, but sat staring hard at his yacht, and seeing only the face
of the woman just drawn from the sea.
Then he seemed to see Chris recovering, and taking advantage of his
absence to ruin all his hopes with Claude.
"If these two, Claude and Denise, should meet and talk," he thought.
"If Gartram should learn everything. If Denise should not recover.
Hah!"
Glyddyr uttered a low expiration of the breath, as he recalled how
closely Gellow's interests were mixed up with his own.
"And I have given him _carte blanche_," he thought; "and he will say or
do anything to throw them off the scent--or _do_ anything," he repeated,
after a pause. "No, he dare do no harm; he is too fond of his own
neck."
He had come to this point when he reached the side of his long,
graceful-looking yacht, and as soon as he was aboard he gave his orders;
the mooring ropes were cast off, and the sails hoisted. Then, fetching
a glass from the cabin, Glyddyr carefully scanned the pier and shore,
but could see nothing but little knots of people standing about
discussing the adventure, while the largest knots hung about the door of
the hotel.
Almost at the same moment, Gellow was using the telescope in the hotel
hall.
"Right," he said to himself, as he closed it, upon seeing that the sails
of the yacht were being hoisted. "Good boy; but you'll have to pay for
it. Well, doctor, how is she?"
Doctor Asher had just come down from one of the bed-chambers.
"Recovering fast," said that gentleman, following Gellow into a private
room, "but very much excited. She will require rest and great care for
some days."
Gellow tapped him on the breast, and gave him a meaning look.
"No, she won't, doctor," he said, in a low voice. "I must get her home
at once. Most painful for us both to stop. People chattering and
staring, and that sort of thing. Most grateful to you for your
attention," he continued, taking out his pocket-book, opening it
quickly, and drawing therefrom two crisp new five-pound notes. "Let me
see, you doctors prefer guineas," he said, thrusting his hand into his
pocket.
"No, no, really," protested Asher, as his eyes sparkled at the sight of
the notes.
"Ah, well, I shall not press you, doctor; but I'm down and you are down
after this painful affair, so what do you say to prescribing for us both
pints of good cham and a seltzer, eh? Not bad, eh?"
"Excellent, I'm sure," said Asher, smiling; "but really I cannot think
of--er--one note is ample."
"Bosh, sir!" cried Gellow, crumpling up both, and pressing them into the
doctor's hand. "Professional knowledge must be paid for. Here, waiter;
wine-list. That's right. Bottle of--of--of--of--Oh, here we are. Dry
Monopole and two seltzers--no, one will do. Must practise economy; eh,
doctor?"