The Brightener. Williamson Charles Norris

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СКАЧАТЬ somebody. He went before I could say 'knife!' and the envelope really was there, so he didn't have to hurry back. Two minutes later I was in the storeroom, and no one the wiser. Lord! but I got the jumps waiting for the stewardesses to be safe in bed before I could creep out to pay your cabin a call!"

      "So, to cure the 'jumps' you annexed a whole bottle of brandy," I said.

      "I did – for that and another reason you may find out by and by. But I'm hanged if you're not a cool hand, for a young girl who has just heard her lover's a married man. I thought by this time you'd be in hysterics."

      "Girls of my generation don't have hysterics," I taunted her. By the dyed hair and vestiges of rouge and powder which streaked the battered face I guessed that a sneer at her age would sting like a wasp. I wanted to rouse the woman's temper. If she lost her head, she might show her hand!

      "You'll have worse than hysterics, you fool, before I finish," she snapped. "I'm going to make Roger Fane acknowledge me as his wife and give me everything I want – money, and motor cars, and pearls – and, best of all, a position in society. I'm tired of being a free lance."

      "He won't do it!" I cried.

      "He'll have to – when he hears what will happen if he doesn't. If I can't live a life worth living, I'll die. Roger Fane will go off this yacht under arrest as my murderer."

      "You deserve that he should kill you, but he will not," I said.

      "He'll hang for killing me, anyhow. You see, the more motive he has to destroy me, the more impossible for him – or you – to prove his innocence. Do you think I'd have told you all this, if any one was likely to believe such a cock-and-bull story as the truth would sound to a jury? But I'm through now! I've said what I came to say. I'm ready to act. Do you want a row, or will you go quietly to the door of Roger's cabin (he must be there by this time) and tell him that his wife, Linda Lehmann, is waiting for him in your stateroom? That'll fetch him!"

      I had no doubt it would. My only doubt was what to do! But if I refused, the woman was sure to keep her word, and rouse the yacht by screams. That would be the worst thing possible for Shelagh and Roger. I decided to go, and break to him the news with merciful swiftness.

      If I could, I would have turned a key upon the creature, but the doors of the Naiad's cabins were furnished only with bolts. My one hope, that she'd keep to my room, owed itself to the fact that she was too drunk to move comfortably, and that, despite her bluff, the best trump she had was quiet diplomacy with Roger.

      Softly I closed the door, and tiptoed to his, three staterooms distant from mine. My tap was so light that, if he had gone to sleep, I should have had to knock again. But he opened the door at once. He was fully dressed, and had a book in his hand.

      "Something has happened," I whispered in answer to his amazed look. "Let me come in and explain. I can't talk out here."

      He stood aside in silence, and I stepped in. Then I motioned him to shut the door.

      CHAPTER VII

      THE SECRET BEHIND THE SILENCE

      This was the first time I'd seen Roger's cabin, and I had no eyes now for its charm of decoration; but I saw that it was large, and divided by a curtained arch into a bedroom and a tiny yet complete study fitted with bookshelves and a desk.

      "You're pale as death!" He lowered his voice cautiously. "Sit down in this chair." As he spoke he led me through the bedroom part of the cabin to the study, and there I sank gratefully into the depths of a big chair, where, no doubt, he had sat reading under the light of a shaded lamp.

      "Now what is it?" he asked, bending over me. As I stammered out my story, for a few seconds I forgot the fear of being followed. Our backs were turned to the door. But I had not got far in the tale when I felt that she had come into the room. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw her – a shabby, sinister figure – hanging on to the curtain that draped the archway.

      Roger's start and stifled exclamation proved that, whatever else she might be, the woman was no imposter.

      "You devil!" he gasped.

      "Your wife!" she retorted.

      "Hush," I whispered. "For every sake let's keep this quiet!"

      "I'll be quiet for my own sake, if he accepts my terms," said the woman. "If not, the whole yacht – "

      "Be silent!" Roger commanded. "Princess, I've got to see this through. You'd better go now, and leave me alone with her."

      He was right. My presence would hinder rather than help. I saw the greenish eyes dart from his face to mine when he called me "Princess"; but she must have fancied it a pet name, for no question flashed from her lips as I tiptoed across the room.

      When I got back to my own quarters, I noticed at once that the brandy bottle and the tumbler which had accompanied it were gone from my dressing table. Nor were they to be found in the cabin. The woman must have taken them to Roger's room, and placed them somewhere before I saw her. "Disgusting!" I murmured, for my thought was that the debased wretch had clung lovingly to the drink. Even though I'd sharpened my wits to search all her motives, I failed over that simple-seeming act.

      "Oh, poor Roger!" I said to myself. "And poor Shelagh!"

      I sat miserably on the window seat (for the rumpled bed was now abhorrent), and wondered what would happen next. But I had not long to wait. A few moments passed – how many I don't know – and the crystalline silence of the gliding Naiad was splintered by a scream.

      'Scream' is the word one must use for a cry of pain or fear. Yet it isn't the right word for the sound that snatched me to my feet. It was not shrill, it was not loud. What might have ended in a shriek subsided to a choked breath, a gurgle. My heart's pounding seemed louder as I listened. My ears expected a following cry, but it did not come. Two or three doors gently opened, that was all. Again dead silence fell; and I felt in it that others listened, fearing to speak lest the sound had been no more than a moan in a dream. Presently the doors closed again, each listener afraid of disturbing a neighbour. And even I, who knew the secret behind the silence, prayed that the choked scream might have come when it did as a mere coincidence. Someone might really have had nightmare!

      As time passed, I almost persuaded myself that it was so, and that, at worst, there would be no crime to mark this night with crimson on the calendar. But the next quarter hour was the deadest time I'd ever known. I felt like one entombed alive, praying to be liberated from a vault. Then, at last – when those who'd waked slept again – came a faint knock at my door.

      I flew to slip back the bolt, and pulled Roger Fane into the room. One would not have believed a face so brown could bleach so white!

      For an instant we stared into each other's eyes. When I could speak, I stammered a question – I don't know what, and I don't think he understood. But the spell broke.

      "You heard?" he faltered.

      "The cry? Yes. It was – "

      "She's dead."

      "Dead! You killed her?"

      "My God, no! But if you think that, what will —others think?"

      "If you had killed her, you couldn't be blamed," I tried to encourage him. "Only – "

      "Didn't she make some threat to you? I hoped she had. СКАЧАТЬ