"Don't look so unhappy, Christine," I said. "I can stand a good
deal, but that finishes me completely."
With a gallant if rather wistful attempt to smile she sat back in her
chair.
"There's only one thing I want to know," I went on, following up my
advantage, "and you needn't tell me that if you would rather not."
She made a slight movement of her head, as if wishing me to continue.
"How long have you been friends with Dr. Manning?"
I put the question quite bluntly, and I saw the faintest possible
flush come into her face.
"I am not a friend of Dr. Manning's," she answered. "I dislike him
intensely. If the choice rested with me, I should never see him
again."
"We appear to have one taste in common at all events," I remarked
with approval.
"What do you know about him?"
She brought out the words almost reluctantly, as though half afraid
of making some unwelcome discovery.
"I know very little at present," I admitted, "but I hope that by
to-morrow we shall be much better acquainted. I have asked him to
dinner with me this evening, and he will probably spend the night on
the island."
If anything, my answer seemed to increase her misgivings.
"He is staying with you? He is going to sleep in the house?"
"Why, yes," I said. "There's nowhere else he can sleep, unless I put
him in the kennel. That would certainly be the best place, but,
unfortunately, my dog has taken rather a dislike to him."
In spite of her apparent anxiety the corners of her lips quivered
into a smile.
"If you mistrust him so much, what made you invite him to the island?"
"I thought it would be a kind action," I explained. "I suppose you
know that he has a special reason for being interested in my affairs?"
She looked at me curiously.
"What do you mean? What reason?"
"Well, to be quite exact, there are two of them," I said. "In the
first place, he's the family physician. He came over and stayed in
the house when my uncle was taken ill, and looked after him until he
died."
"But you never told me that."
Christine was leaning forward again, with a queer excitement that she
made no attempt to conceal.
"We've had so little time for exchanging confidences," I objected.
"Anyhow, he did come, and, what's more, he seems to have fallen in
love with the place. At least, ever since then he has been making me
the most sporting and generous offers, which Mr. Drayton says I'm a
fool not to accept."
"He is trying to buy the island?"
"That's the notion," I said, nodding. "According to his own account,
he wants to start a new yachting club." I paused. "Of course, it
may be so," I added, "but do you know, Christine, at the back of my
mind I've a nasty, uncharitable feeling that he isn't telling me the
truth."
For a moment we sat silent. There was a strange expression upon
Christine's face, as though she were beginning to understand
something which up till then had baffled and perplexed her.
"Mr. Dryden," she said slowly, "for your own sake I am going to be
quite honest with you. Until we came down here I had no idea that
such a person as Dr. Manning existed."
I was not altogether surprised at her confession, but in spite of
that it gave me a very pleasant feeling of relief.
"Perhaps he is an old friend of your uncle's?" I suggested.
She shook her head. "He was an utter stranger to both of us. My
uncle was taken ill with one of his heart attacks the day after we
arrived, and somebody from the hotel suggested my sending for Dr.
Manning. I am quite certain that they had never met before in their
lives."
"If that's the case," I observed, "he needs kicking even more than I
imagined."
Once again a faint shade of colour crept into her face, and then died
away again almost at once.
"Listen, Mr. Dryden," she continued, "what I want to say to you has
nothing to do with anything that you may have seen yesterday. That
doesn't matter in the least. You have got to think entirely of your
own safety. I believe that by asking Dr. Manning to the island you
are putting yourself in the greatest possible danger."
"It seems to be the general opinion," I admitted. "At least, both
Bascomb and Bobby Dean--" I paused. "By the way, I haven't told you
about Bobby Dean yet, have I?"
She shook her head.
"I have been carrying out your instructions," I explained. "You
ordered me to dig up a friend, and I have found the one man in the
world who exactly fits the part."
"Who is he?" she demanded eagerly.
"Well, to give him his full title," I said, "he's Commander Robert
Dean, V.C., of His Majesty's Navy. To save time I generally call him
Bobby. We were serving together during the war, and, as luck would
have it, he has just been shifted back here in charge of the Coast
Patrol at Harwich."
"Oh, but that's splendid," she exclaimed thankfully. "Is he going to
live with you on the island??
"I should like him to," I said, "but I am afraid the Admiralty might
object. They are a conservative lot, and they always expect their
employees to sleep over the shop. I shall be seeing a good deal of
him though," I added, quickly, as a sudden shadow of disappointment
again clouded her eyes. "He is constantly round here in his boat,
and if I want him in a hurry any time I have only got to send him a
wire."
There was a pause.
"Does he--does he know that--" She stopped, as if not quite certain
how to finish the question.
"I didn't think it necessary to tell him everything," I said. "He
knows about my being chucked into the dock, and he knows what I think
of Dr. Manning. As I look at it, the rest of the story only concerns
ourselves."
I saw that she was on the point of interrupting me, so I went
straight on, without giving her the chance of speaking.
"Anyhow, I am not going to talk about myself all the time. There are
several much more important things I want to discuss, and one's the
fact that you appear to be risking your life every morning before
breakfast in a way that I strongly disapprove of."
She looked at me for a moment in evident bewilderment.
"Do you mean my swimming?"
I nodded. "It would be most inconsiderate of you to get drowned," I
said, "just when you've become absolutely necessary to me."