Part 36 (2/2)
”How long do you mean to keep me here?”
”That depends on how agreeable you make yourself,” he said obscurely.
”What do you mean?”
”Merely that ... well, it's a pleasant, salubrious spot, Wreck Island.
You'll find it uncommonly healthful and enjoyable, too, as soon as you get over the loneliness. Not that you'll be so terribly lonely; I shall be here more or less, off and on, much of the time for the next few weeks. I don't mind telling you, in strict confidence, as between father and child, that I'm planning to pull off something pretty big before long; of course it will need a bit of arranging in advance to make everything run smoothly, and this is ideal for a man of my retiring disposition, not overfond of the espionage of his fellow-men. So, if you're docile and affectionate, we may see a great deal of one another for some weeks--as I said.”
”And if not--?”
”Well”--he waved his hands expressively--”of course, if you incline to be forward and disobedient, then I shall be obliged to deny you the light of my countenance, by way of punishment.”
She shook her head impatiently. ”I want to know when you will let me go,” she insisted, struggling against the oppression of her sense of helplessness.
”I really can't say.” He pretended politely to suppress a yawn, indicating that the subject bored him inordinately. ”If I could trust you--”
”Can you expect that, after the way you treated me last night--this morning?”
”Ah, well!” he said, claw-like fingers stroking his lips to conceal his smile of mockery.
”You lied to me, drugged me, robbed me of the necklace, brought me here....”
”Guilty,” he said, yawning openly.
”Why? You could have taken the necklace from me at the hotel. Why must you bring me here and keep me prisoner?”
”The pleasure of my only daughter's society....”
”Oh, you're despicable!” she cried, furious.
He nodded thoughtfully, fumbling with his lips.
”Won't you tell me why?” she pleaded.
He shook his head. ”You wouldn't understand,” he added in a tone of maddening commiseration.
”I shan't stay!” she declared angrily.
”Oh, I think you will,” he replied gently.
”I'll get away and inform on you if I have to swim.”
”It's a long, wet swim,” he mused aloud--”over a mile, I should say.
Have you ever swum over a hundred yards in your life?”
She was silent, choking with rage.
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