Kitabı oku: «Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake», sayfa 10

Story 1-Chapter XIX.
Pepper for the Sharks

Dutch felt a pang at his heart as he raised and carried the fainting woman below – Bessy Studwick joining him as he laid her on the little couch in the cabin; and he was about to leave her in the latter’s care, when she began to revive, and called him by name.

For a moment he was about to run to her, but the old and bitter suspicions hardened his heart, and he turned away.

“Oh,” exclaimed Bessy Studwick, bitterly, “if he had been my husband, and behaved to me like that!”

“Pray, hush!” said Hester, feebly.

“I can’t,” exclaimed Bessy, clasping the weeping woman in her arms. “I know you must have felt horribly jealous of me once, dear, and I really did of you; but as for Dutch Pugh now, I absolutely hate him, and I’m sure you must ever so much more.”

“I never loved him so dearly as I do now,” sighed Hester. “Some day he will believe in me again.”

She covered her face with her hands, and thought of her little adventure upon the deck, one which puzzled as well as alarmed her; and once or twice she was on the point of confiding in Bessy, but the thoughts of her husband’s peril drove others away, and, making an effort, she rose to go on deck again.

“I’m sure you are not fit to go on deck,” exclaimed Bessy, trying to restrain her.

“Yes,” she said, gently. “I am better now, and I could not bear to stay here if he is in danger.”

Feeling that it would only cause an extra strain on nerves already weakened, Bessy made no further opposition, but accompanied Hester on deck, where a bustle of preparation was going on, the captain and doctor both working in subordination to Dutch and Mr Parkley. The air-pump was being fixed in a convenient spot, diving suits were in readiness for use, and tubes coiled in great snake-like rings. With an oily rag in his hand, and his cheeks blown out with importance, Rasp was fussing about and giving a touch here and a touch there; while no less important, and evidently feeling as if his task were done, Oakum sat on a coil of rope, chewing his tobacco, and looking on.

But to Hester’s great relief the diving apparatus was not yet going to be put in use. For Dutch, Mr Parkley, and the doctor were busy at work with sundry jars, wires, and plates. In fact, they were placing a galvanic battery ready for action, and making some mysterious preparations that the sailors did not understand.

There was a small white canister, too, over which the doctor kept guard, ordering back any of the sailors that approached.

At last, when the battery was ready, and emitting a low, hissing noise from the zinc and platina plates immersed in a solution, a long coil of thin wire was unwound and attached to the little white canister.

“For heaven’s sake be careful, Dutch!” said Mr Parkley, who had performed the latter operation. “Don’t connect the wire till I give the word.”

“Don’t be alarmed,” said Dutch, quietly, as he held the other end in his hand. “I shall be careful.”

“But I am alarmed,” said Mr Parkley to himself. “He thinks life of no more value than the snuff of a candle, and I want to live as long as I can.”

“Now, are you nearly ready?” said the captain, who came up, followed by ’Pollo grinning, and having on a tin three great pieces of beef.

“Yes, quite ready,” said Dutch.

“Bring the meat here,” exclaimed Mr Parkley; and, choosing the largest piece, he half cut it in two, placed the white canister in the opening, and bound the meat round it firmly with a fresh piece of wire.

“Am dat mustard, sah?” said ’Pollo, with his eyes wide open.

“No, ’Pollo, it’s pepper – pepper for the sharks,” said Mr Parkley, smiling.

“Ho!” said ’Pollo thoughtfully. “I no see de good to gib de shark pepper, sah.”

“Wait a minute and you will, ’Pollo,” said the captain, smiling.

“All ready now,” said Mr Parkley. “Every one stand back.”

The crew shrank away, some of the men, though, climbing the rigging to get a good view of the proceedings, and John Studwick being helped into a sure position in the main chains. Then one of the pieces of coarse beef was taken and jerked out half-a-dozen yards from the ship.

As it struck the water and began to sink there was a rush and commotion as dark-grey forms and white streaks seemed to rise from below. The water bubbled and foamed, and the lump of beef was seized, torn asunder, and two huge sharks gorged the pieces, and then could be seen swimming backwards and forwards, and round and round, in company with others.

“Cut the next up into small bits, ’Pollo,” said the captain, who was standing on the bulwarks, holding on by the main shrouds.

“Yes, sah, I cut um small and easy for mass’ shark ’gestion,” said ’Pollo grinning; and he cut the beef into pieces of the size of his fist with the large cook’s knife he wore in a sheath at his belt.

As he passed them up the captain threw them to the hungry sharks, each piece being snapped up by one or the other, as the monsters, not disdaining such morsels, turned half over and gorged each fragment as it fell.

No less than seven could now be counted, all evidently made more savage and eager by the taste of meat, and ready to leap out of the water as they glided one over the other in a space not many yards square, where the water was still impregnated with the odour and juices of the beef.

“That will do for them now,” cried Mr Parkley, mounting beside the captain with the lump of beef bound round the can in his lingers, holding it in one hand, whilst with the other he took a good grip of one of the rattlins.

“Are you ready, Pugh?”

“Yes,” was the reply.

“Is the wire all clear for a run?”

“Yes, perfectly. Stand back, man,” cried Dutch, as the mulatto stood eagerly watching what was done.

“Then I shall throw it into the midst of them, and when I cry now, make the connection – not before.”

“I understand,” said Dutch.

“One moment,” said the captain; “will it endanger the ship?”

“No,” said Mr Parkley, “because it will be too far away, and too deep. It will rock her, of course.”

“All right,” said Captain Studwick, nodding his head; and, giving the beef a swing to and fro, Mr Parkley launched it through the air, so that it fell with a heavy splash some fifty feet from the schooner, and began to sink rapidly.

There was a tremendous swirl in the clear water directly, as the sharks dashed at it, going over one another like dogs in their eagerness to be first, for this was a piece of fourteen or fifteen pounds weight.

The next moment they were tearing at it, but baffled somewhat by the strong wire binding, while it sank rapidly, and the thin copper wire, that had fallen on the smooth surface like a line of light, ran rapidly over the side.

“Now,” cried Mr Parkley loudly.

As the word left his lips, Dutch applied the other end of the wire to the galvanic battery, an invisible spark darted along the thin copper to the case of dynamite; there was a dull rumble; the ship shivered as if struck by some heavy blow; a column of water rose in the air and sank back; and the schooner rolled from side to side as a large wave lifted her, let her down, and then rushed onward over the rocks to the shore, running up the sands in a line of foam, and laving the trunks of the palms beyond the narrow strip.

The men clung to the bulwarks, looking startled, but seeing that the danger was over, they uttered a loud cheer, for as the water subsided the clear limpidity was gone – sand, blood, fragments of weed and flesh, all combined to make it murky; and, what set the men off cheering again, there were the bodies of the seven sharks, four of them in scraps, the other three apparently uninjured, but floating back downwards quite dead, and with the foul pieces gliding slowly off with the hardly perceptible current.

“Well, I confess, Dutch, I should never have thought of that,” exclaimed Mr Parkley. “It was a good idea.”

“So the men seem to think,” said the captain, as a couple slipped down into the jolly-boat, and, sculling it about, secured about a couple of dozen large fish that had also been killed by the dynamite. “But that was too near the schooner for safety: a shock or two like that would shake the masts out of her hull.”

“It was more powerful than I expected,” said Dutch. “We will fire the next from the boat with a good length of wire, and the schooner must be fifty or a hundred yards away.”

“But you will not fire another unless you are troubled with sharks?” queried the captain.

“I intend to fire a canister exactly beneath where we stand,” said Dutch, “so as to sweep away the growth and sand and shingle that have been accumulating for the last two hundred years. One of those charges will do more in an instant than the men could do under water in a week.”

He raised his eyes as he spoke, and found that the mulatto was listening intently to every word, but with his eyes half-closed and a bitter look upon his face.

By this time the water was fast growing clear, and the change beneath the schooner was remarkable. The canister of dynamite must have sunk nearly to the bottom before it was exploded, and so great was the lateral sweep of the concussion that the seaweed seemed to have been levelled down in one direction, like a plantation after the passage of a hurricane; and grim and stark stood up now a series of dark stumps, the relics of the timbers of the ill-fated Spanish galleon, if such it really proved to be. Some of these were black and nearly level with the sand; some were worn to a point by the attrition of the current; but there, plainly enough now, could be traced out in timbers the shape of the vessel; but not for long, since the weed began once more to float into its normal position; but enough was known now, and Oakum took a fresh plug of tobacco as he said to Rasp —

“There, old ’un, your work’s cut out for some time to come.”

No time was lost. A couple of dynamite canisters were lowered down in the most suitable spots where the sand and weed seemed to be thickest, and Mr Parkley held one thin coil of wire, and Dutch and another, at opposite sides of the schooner, the kedge hawsers were buoyed and slipped; and, as the vessel slowly went with the current, the wire was payed out till the schooner had swung right round, and was riding by the anchor from her bows, and eighty or ninety yards away from the sunken wreck. The wire was sufficiently long to render the use of the boat unnecessary, and all being ready the battery was once more brought into use, the wires being connected, and this time the water surged up as from some volcanic eruption, a great wave ran towards the schooner, which rode over it easily, and it passed on towards the shore, washing right up again amongst the trees.

The men went to work with a will, getting ropes to the buoys, hauling upon them, and gradually working the schooner back, and mooring her in her old position; but it was a good hour later before the water was once more clear, and they gazed down upon quite a different scene from that of the morning.

So effective had been the force of the explosion that sand, weeds, small rocks and shingles, had been completely swept away, and lay at a distance, while the interior of the old wreck seemed to have been scooped right out.

The most careful search with the eye, though, failed to show any traces of that which they sought, and as evening was now fast drawing on, any further investigations were left till the following day.

Story 1-Chapter XX.
A Discovery

So far as they had been able to make out, there was no trace of inhabitants near the place where the schooner was moored; but the adventure was of so important a nature that Captain Studwick felt it his duty to keep the most careful watch; and he was not sorry that afternoon to yield to the pressing request of Mr Wilson and the doctor to go on shore with their guns for a couple of hours’ shooting.

“I consent,” he said, “on condition that you are back here by nightfall, and that you take a couple of the men well-armed with you.”

This was agreed to, and the party of four was rowed ashore, Dutch and Mr Parkley both declining to accompany them, on the score of fatigue; while, though John Studwick longed to be of the party, he felt that he was too weak, and watched them from the side, as the boat rowed through the sparkling water, landing the party on the golden sands.

As the boat was returning to the side, the longing to go on shore proved too strong for John Studwick, and he beckoned his sister to his side.

“Bessy,” he said, “I must go and have an hour’s walk under those shady trees, where the sand seems to be so smooth and soft.”

Bessy started, partly at his saddened way of speaking, and partly that he, who seemed to hate the very idea of her being anywhere near Mr Meldon, should propose to go ashore after him.

“You mean alone?” she said, quickly.

“Alone? No,” he cried, petulantly. “I mean with you. Mrs Pugh would like to go too, perhaps.”

“I will speak to father,” she said, eager to please him in every way; and she went forward to where Captain Studwick was chatting with Mr Parkley and Dutch about the morrow’s arrangements.

“John wishes to go ashore, father,” she said, “to sit under the trees.”

The captain stood thinking for a moment or two, and then, after a little hesitation —

“Well,” he said, “I see no harm. The men shall row you ashore, and stop there. Don’t go out of sight, nor far from the boat. I don’t think there can be any danger, and, poor fellow, he will soon want to be back.”

By the time Bessy returned to her brother, the keen desire was growing blunted, and he felt almost ready to resent what he looked upon as his sister’s eagerness to get ashore, where the young doctor had gone.

“The boat is waiting, John dear,” she said, holding out her hand. “You will go, too, Hester?”

Hester glanced towards Dutch, but he made no sign, and, yielding to Bessy’s implied wish, she followed them to the boat, Oakum helping them down, and receiving his instructions from the captain as to keeping a sharp watch.

As the boat pushed off, the men just dipping their oars, and Oakum standing up and steering, for the distance was only about fifty yards, the captain turned quietly to the mate.

“Lower down the other boat quietly,” he said, “and have the rest of the men ready to jump in and row ashore at a moment’s notice. Parkley, Mr Pugh, I think it is better to be too particular than not particular enough, so we will get our revolvers and a rifle or two ready. Where’s Mr Pugh?”

“He went to the cabin directly,” said Mr Parkley; and on their following him they found him loading his rifle, and saw the butt of his revolver sticking out of his breast.

“Actuated by the same thought,” said the captain.

“Well, yes,” said Dutch, “there may be no danger either from beast or Indian, but it is as well to be on the safe side.”

Taking rifles on deck, they went and leaned over the bulwarks, talking, to see the little party land, and Oakum help out the ladies, who walked slowly up with John Studwick towards the trees, while the sailors sat about close to the boat, or threw themselves down upon the sands.

“We seem to have been suspicious enough over this affair,” said the captain, taking off his cap, so as to let the soft breeze that was now beginning to blow after the heat of the day, fan his brown forehead. “I wonder what has become of the Cuban.”

“Home by this time, I should say,” replied Mr Parkley, while Dutch, with an uneasy feeling creeping over him, leaned there, rifle in hand, watching the shore.

“I had my suspicions at first,” continued the captain, “and really hardly expected to get out here without some hindrance.”

“What did you suspect?” said Mr Parkley, lighting a cigar, and handing one to the captain, who lit up in turn.

“Anything – nothing. I had got it into my head that this fellow wanted to stop us, and I was prepared to be overhauled by a swift steamer; for a mutiny on board; to find him here first – there, it is always the way; once give your imagination its head, and away it goes.”

“Well, nothing could have gone better than the trip has since we started, and if it should prove that there is treasure below us here, all we have to do is to dive and get it all.”

“If the sharks will let you,” said the captain.

“Well, at first I thought we were completely checkmated, but you saw what Pugh did to-day,” he continued, in a low tone. “It’s my belief that if obstacles ten times as difficult offer themselves, he would surmount them.”

They both glanced at Dutch, and then followed his eyes to see that the ladies were gathering flowers, the men fruit and shellfish, and that all on shore looked so peaceful and lovely that the longing came upon them to join the little party.

“It is so easy to imagine danger,” said the captain; and then, lulled by the peaceful aspect of matters into security, they went on talking in a low tone about the various incidents of the day, while Dutch kept stern watch alone.

Meanwhile, John Studwick’s jealous fancies passed away as his feet touched the sand, and it was with a thrill of delight that he pointed towards the lovely tropic scene before him.

“Flowers, fruit, mossy carpet,” he said fervently. “Why, it is really Eden – a paradise. I could live here, I think.”

There was an inexpressible sadness in his words, and Bessy’s eyes filled with tears as she glanced at Hester, for she knew but too well that her brother’s days were numbered.

Hester’s heart was full to overflowing, and these words and her friend’s sad look had touched the spring ready to gush forth. It was only by a great effort that she could keep from a hysterical fit of crying, and she was obliged to turn away.

John Studwick smiled lovingly upon his sister, though, directly after, for his heart smote him for many little harsh words directed at her in regard to Mr Meldon; and he began to chat earnestly to her about the flowers, calling one of the men to get down a cocoanut or two for them, and sitting down to watch the man make a gasket or band of twisted cane with almost boyish pleasure, Bessy’s eyes brightening as she saw his eagerness, and remembering the bright happiness of that scene for years to come.

For the spot was lovely, and in the shade of the densely foliaged trees the wondrous blossoms of gaily tinted bellflowers hung in wreaths and garlands as they festooned the undergrowth and offered their nectary cups to the humming birds that flashed in and out of the sunshine to poise themselves on invisible wings, while each moment some new object struck the eye.

It was, indeed, a scene of loveliness to the sick man and his sister as they rose and wandered here and there, now gazing into beautiful green glades, now looking up at the delicate lacework of some wonderful tree-fern against the sky, or toward the deep blue sea, with the schooner doubled before them as it lay mirrored in its breast. But bright as it was to them, the beauteous scene was, as it were, covered with ashes to Hester Pugh. The sky might have been dark, and the sun’s light quenched even as was the light of hope in her breast. She had thought that Dutch would have listened to her before now, and that this dreadful cloud of suspicion would have been swept away; but no, he had let her come ashore without a word, as if careless of her fate, and at last, blind with the gathering tears, she had wandered slowly away unnoticed amongst the trees, as she thought, to find some place where she could relieve her bursting heart and throbbing brain of the tears that she had kept back so long.

She sank down at last upon the trunk of a fallen tree, sobbing as if her heart would break, and, as her head sank down upon her hands, she moaned in the bitterness of her spirit.

All was silent for a time, and in her grief she did not hear the rustling amongst the trees, and it was not until her hands were taken and drawn gently from before her face that she looked up, to see, with the blood chilling in her veins, the mulatto upon his knees before her, gazing with glittering eyes, full in hers.

She was too much surprised and frightened to cry out, but she tried to start up and flee. The effort was vain, though, for, tightening his hold of her hands, the man rested his arms upon her knees and kept her a prisoner.

“Hush!” he said; “for your own sake be silent.”

“Let me go,” she panted, hoarsely.

“No, no, beautiful Hester,” he whispered, his voice low with passion. “Why do you pretend that you do not recognise me, when you know me so well?”

“How dare you!” she began, in a loud voice, when the glittering eyes fixed upon hers seemed to fascinate her, and her tongue refused its office.

“How dare I?” he laughed; “because I love you more than even I loved you the first day I saw you in that dark office in miserable, cold England; I loved you when, in those dear ecstatic days, I hung over you in your little home, when that jealous fool, your husband, interrupted our tête-à-têtes with his hateful presence; and now, in this nature’s paradise, I love you more – more dearly than ever, even though I have lived these many weeks only to hear your sweet voice.”

“Lauré!” she panted, with dilating eyes.

“Yes, Lauré, your Manuel, who loves you,” he whispered, his face now transformed, and the dull, drooping look of the mulatto gone, to give place to the flashing eyes of the Cuban. “Pish! you have known me all along. You are the only one that my disguise could not deceive. I might have known that no darkened skin, no false scar, no assumed limp or cunning disguise could deceive the woman I love and who loves me.”

Hester struggled once more to rise, but she was powerless in his grasp, and in the horror she felt at the discovery of this man’s presence she could not cry for help. It was to her like some terrible nightmare; there were the voices on the sands, help was so near, and yet she could not claim it.

“I was afraid that you would betray me at first, dearest,” he whispered, with his face close to hers, and his hot breath fanning her cheeks; “but I need not have feared, and I waited and suffered. There, do not struggle, little one, you are so safe with me. Have I not watched him and his cold, brutal cruelty to you – the way he has neglected, scorned one who is to me all that is bright and beautiful, and for whose sake I have hacked and disguised myself, working with a set of coarse sailors, eating their wretched fare, sleeping in their miserable den. Hester, beautiful Hester, but you will reward me for all this. You will live with me here in one of these beauteous sunny lands, where all is bright, and where the very air breathes love.”

“Let me go,” she panted.

“No, no,” he whispered, “you cannot be so cruel. Only a short time now and the object of my mission is over, and then – then – Oh, my darling, I love you – I love you.”

He clasped her in his arms, and, in spite of her struggles, his lips sought hers, when the sound of approaching voices made him start up.

Hester’s lips moved to shriek for help, but he laid his hand quickly upon her mouth, and held her tightly to him, as he whispered:

“One word – say a word of what has passed, and Pugh, perhaps all your friends will die.”

She glanced at him and shuddered, as she saw his hand go into his breast, and read in his eyes too plainly so fell a purpose, that she knew she dared not speak.

“Sit down,” he whispered. “I shall be watching you from close at hand. If you betray me, it is some one’s death signal. You are mine, Hester; you know I love you; but I would not force that love when I know that soon it must be mine.”

He pressed her back into her seat, and glided into the low bushes, her eyes following till she saw him crouch, and knew that he had his gaze fixed upon her face, and read it, so that if she attempted to betray him he might keep his word.

The horror was more than she could bear, for this discovery taught her of the danger to Dutch, perhaps to all on board. Partly from his passion for her, then, partly to watch the proceedings of the adventurers, he had contrived to get on board, and was undiscovered. Here, then, was the secret of what she had looked upon as an insult from a half-savage sailor.

She let her pale face fall again into her hands, and sat there shivering, not daring even to answer, though she heard Bessy’s voice close at hand.

What should she do? What should she do? She dared not speak now, but as soon as they were safe on board she would warn Dutch of his danger, and if the Cuban slew her, what then? She would have saved her husband’s dear life.

But if he killed Dutch instead!

The thought paralysed her, and a death-like perspiration broke out on her forehead as she felt that she dared not speak lest ill should happen to him she loved. She essayed to rise, but sank back trembling, with her eyes fixed upon the spot where she knew the Cuban was hidden, when Bessy came in sight.

“Why, you’ve been crying, dear,” she said, gaily, as she sat down beside her on the tree trunk. “Come, come, dear, be a woman. All will come right if we wait.”

“All will come right if we wait,” muttered Hester to herself. Would it? Ought she to wait and trust, or should she warn Dutch?

“Yes, she would,” she said to herself, as soon as they were on board; and, rising, she accompanied Bessy on to the beach, where the first person on whom her eyes lit was the Cuban, with drooping eyelids, limping slowly along with some shellfish in his hand, so changed once more that Hester asked herself whether this scene had indeed been the nightmare of some dream.

A shout came now from the schooner, and they moved towards the boat, for the sun was beginning to dip, when another shout from behind made them turn, to see Mr Wilson, Mr Meldon, and the two sailors coming from their expedition, laden with beautifully-plumaged birds.

They were soon on board once more, Hester sick at heart, for the Cuban had contrived to whisper to her that one word, “Remember!” and she had shrunk away shivering, feeling that she dared not speak. So great was this man’s influence over her that she spent the evening in torture, feeling that his eyes were following her everywhere, that his face was at her cabin window, at the skylight; and she was in both instances right, for Lauré felt that she might betray him at any moment, and his plans were not yet ripe.

He watched, then, without intermission, with the intent of forcing her to swear some terrible oath that she would be silent, and this he felt that he could exact from her could he get the chance.

“I shall begin to think that you are going to have some relapse, Hester,” said Bessy at last, as they sat alone, trying to read by the light in their little cabin, for John Studwick had gone to rest, and Bessy was sitting with Hester alone.

“Oh, no,” she exclaimed, with a smile, “I am quite well.”

“But you have been acting so strangely, and starting as you looked up at the skylight. Surely you have not caught some terrible fever through sitting in that bit of jungle.”

“Oh, no; I am quite well,” said Hester, making an effort to control her feelings. “The heat, perhaps, makes me nervous.”

“I know,” said Bessy, “you are nervous about your husband going down to-morrow.”

“Yes, yes, I am,” cried Hester. “I always fear when I know of his taking the work in hand himself. He is so venturesome.”

“I wish he would be a little more kind. There, I’ll say no more. Good-night. He has the watch to-night on deck – the first watch.”

“Has he?”

“Yes; and if he were my husband I should go to him and ask him if this wicked estrangement was to last, because, if so, it should last for ever, for I would never make another advance to him.”

“Are you sure he has the watch to-night?”

“Yes,” said Bessy, kissing her; “and it’s as dark as pitch on deck. Shall I go with you, dear?”

“No, no,” whispered Hester, eagerly, as her heart began to throb. “Good-night, good-night.”

“But where are you going?” said Bessy, playfully.

“I am going to speak to my husband,” said Hester, whose face was as white as ashes, but her voice very firm, for the strength that she had prayed for seemed to have come at last, and she felt that at any hazard she must go and tell Dutch of the impending danger to them both. For it was evident from the Cuban’s words, as much as from his presence, that he held some deep design on hand, and perhaps she might be saving others as well as her husband by the step she was about to take.

But he had said that he would kill Dutch if she betrayed him, and her heart seemed to stand still at the horrible thought. But no – Dutch was so strong and brave, and he would seize this villain, and, by taking rapid action, secure safety to himself, perhaps to the ship as well.

“You had better let me go too,” said Bessy, smiling.

“No, no,” said Hester, shaking her head; “stop here. I shall be back almost directly.”

“I am not so sure,” said Bessy, laughing. “There, dear, all happiness come of your meeting. You will find him right forward, I think.”

Hester took a step towards the door, and then realised how weak she was, for she trembled and felt as if she should drop. But this was no time for hesitation, and she came back to say farewell.

“Put out the light or turn it down. I do not want any one to see me go on deck.”

Bessy smiled, and turned down the lamp until it was almost out; and then, opening the door gently, Hester stepped to the foot of the cabin stairs, where, as she laid her hand upon the cold brass rail, the trembling fit again seized her, for her heart whispered that Lauré should be watching her.

She recovered herself directly and ascended the cabin stairs, leaving the deep voices of the captain and the others talking behind her; and as she went on her courage seemed to increase, and whispering to herself that it was to save him she loved, she stepped cautiously upon the deck.

All was perfectly silent, and the darkness was intense, save ashore, where the fireflies glanced and played in scintillations amongst the trees. She turned from them with a shudder, for it reminded her of the evening’s encounter, and, trying to make out where her husband was watching, she went cautiously on, for there was not a sound to be heard.