Part 17 (1/2)

”That young woman,” said Lady Harte, accepting a gla.s.s of beer from her son, ”badly wants an Object in life.”

”She's got one. You wait till you see him,” said Jim involuntarily. Recollecting the presence of a stranger, he added hastily: ”Beer or a gimlet, Roberts?”

”I'll have beer, thanks. But don't mind me,” replied Roberts, twinkling. ”I've seen him too.”

Jim laughed. ”Awfully Nordic, isn't he? He's bunked to town, I understand. My own feeling is that he's too Nordic to be a murderer. Hullo, Adrian! Have some beer?”

Sir Adrian, who had come out on to the terrace from the drawing room, declined this offer but desired his stepson to tell him what had been happening. He appeared to be quite unmoved at the thought of the danger Timothy had been in, merely remarking that he hoped Jim did not expect him to enact the role of avenging parent.

Timothy presently joined the party on the terrace, chastened but anxious to justify himself.

Failing, however, to induce Oscar Roberts to support his statement that he had been steering a course well outside the line of Pin rocks, or to win from his stepbrother any sign of belief in his story or forgiveness for his crime, he went away to nurse his sorrows in solitude.

He bore himself with unaccustomed lowliness throughout the rest of the day and retired early to bed.

He bade Jim good-night in a painstakingly offhand voice, received in reply the curtest of valedictions, and flushed to the ears. This quite melted Miss Allison's heart, and she presently slipped out of the drawing room and went upstairs to tap on his door. After a slight pause she was told gruffly to come in and entered to find Timothy reading in bed. He lowered his book and said in a goaded voice: ”What is it?”

Miss Allison went to sit on the edge of the bed. ”I know you're sick to death of the whole subject,” she said; ”but do you mind telling me just what happened?”

”You wouldn't believe me if I did,” he replied bitterly.

”Well, you might give me a chance, anyway.”

”I don't care whether anyone believes me or not!” said Timothy.

Miss Allison removed the book from his grasp. ”Come off the roof! You know as well as Jim does where the rocks are. If you say you were beyond them, I believe you.”

”Well, I was.”

”Cross your heart, Timothy?”

”Yes, I swear I was. Besides, if I'd hit anything, I'd have felt it.”

”And absolutely between ourselves, you didn't muck something up in the engine?”

”'Course not. She wouldn't have sunk if I had.”

Miss Allison twined her fingers together and said: ”Timothy, what do you think was wrong?”

Something in her voice made him look at her sharply. ”I don't know.”

”Just exactly what happened?”

”Well, nothing at first. She was running perfectly. I opened her up awfully gradually too. As a matter of fact, I didn't mean to take her at full speed at all, but she was going so well, and it was such a grand day for it, that I simply couldn't help letting her out. I was steering an absolutely straight course, and the engine was running as sweetly as anything, when suddenly I felt her check a bit, and then I saw the water rising up in the boat, and she, heeled right over. It happened so quickly I don't really know what did happen, except that I was chucked clean out of the boat. I can tell you, it was a pretty ghastly feeling.”

”It must have been awful!” Miss Allison said, her face quite pale.

”Well, it was, because for one thing it took me completely by surprise, and for another the current got me. Gosh, I was glad to see that motorboat chugging along!”

”If Mr. Roberts hadn't been there you'd have been drowned.”

”I expect I should, really.”

Her fingers gripped together in her lap. ”It might have been Jim.”

”Yes, I know; that's what I keep on telling him, but he doesn't believe a word I say. He thinks I capsized the rotten boat or ran her on the rocks. But he knows I can handle her, because he's often let me when I've been out with him. I'm frightfully sorry I took her out and-and lost her, but it's no use going on saying it. He simply doesn't listen. He said--” Timothy's voice shook suddenly. He found himself quite unable to repeat what Jim had said, and instead announced that he was tired and wished to be left alone.

Miss Allison got up. ”Don't go to sleep yet. I'm going to fetch Jim.”

Mr. Harte sat up with a jerk. ”You jolly well aren't! I don't want to see him!”

”I don't care a d.a.m.n what you want. I mean to get to the bottom of this.”

”I'll lock my door! It doesn't matter a hoot to me what Jim says or thinks, and if you make him come here, I won't ever speak to you again as long as I live!” declared Mr. Harte, anguished.

”Don't be an idiot! Can't you see that this may be important?” said Patricia fiercely. ”If you didn't run her on the rocks, why did she sink?”

Timothy stared at her. ”Do you mean, she was tampered with?” he demanded.

”But-but-why?”

”To get rid of Jim,” said Patricia, but in a low voice, as though she were afraid of her own words.

”Gos.h.!.+” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Timothy, round-eyed.

She left the room and went downstairs to find Jim.

He was just coming out of the drawing room as she reached the hall, and said: ”Oh, there you are! I was coming to look for you. Do you feel like going out?”

”No, not a bit. I want you to come up to Timothy's room, if you don't mind.”

”But I do mind. I haven't the least desire to see Timothy, and I have got a most burning desire to have you to myself for a bit.”

”Don't be vindictive, Jim. It's mean.”

”I'm not. I haven't done a thing to him.”

”Yes, you are. You know perfectly well he thinks the world of you. I think he's rather upset by what you said to him. So do make it up with him. Besides, I want you to listen to his story carefully, because I think he's speaking the truth. Do come, Jim!”

”All right, but why have I got to listen to his story all over again?” he asked, allowing himself to be led upstairs.

”Never mind. I'll tell you why when you're heard it. You haven't really listened to him yet, you know.”

Timothy was still sitting up in bed when they reached his room. His manner towards his stepbrother would not have led the uninitiated to suspect that he desired a reconciliation. He said: ”You needn't think I wanted her to fetch you, because I didn't. I've told you I was sorry about half a million times already, and if you don't want to listen, you jolly well needn't!”

”If you give me any lip I'll wring your neck,” said Jim. ”You meddlesome, c.o.c.ksure little beast.”