Part 22 (1/2)

”We might have crossed, but the bottom's soft, and there's some stream,” he said.

”Which way is it running?”

”Up, but not very fast yet.”

”Then we're going back at once,” Whitney said firmly.

They started, and Whitney did his best as he heard the growl of the surf grow louder. It would be remarkably unpleasant to find themselves cut off from the dinghy, and there were several gutters to be crossed, with the tide steadily running up. Andrew seemed to realize this, for he went on a quick trot, the water pumping into his sea-boots. It was easier to make progress with the gale behind them, and Whitney felt relieved when they pa.s.sed the wreck at some distance. Andrew was heading straight across the sands, though Whitney could not tell what he was steering by. After a time, they came to a stretch of water that widened as they splashed through, but when they had floundered across the soft sand at its edge and reached a higher level they were comparatively safe. Breathing hard, they made their way across firmer ground, and Whitney was conscious of keen satisfaction when he saw the dinghy lying a few yards from the glistening water.

When they had launched her, the wind blew them towards the _Rowan_, and they were soon on board. She was riding easier, and would continue to do so for a while.

”Have you decided whether it's possible to wade out to the wreck?”

Whitney asked as they took off their wet oilskins.

”I think it is,” said Andrew. ”There was about three feet of water in the gutter that turned us back; but the tides are low now and don't run out very far. As they get higher, the gutter would dry toward the last of the ebb.”

”The last of the ebb on a big tide would be between five and seven o'clock, and it would be dark then, night and morning,” Whitney remarked. ”This means that, supposing there was a wireless installation, it could be used only at fixed intervals; roughly speaking, it wouldn't be available one week out of two.”

”Yes,” said Andrew. ”It rather upsets the supposition, but we may find out something more.”

CHAPTER XIV

A FAIR ALLY

It was bright afternoon, and Elsie sat beside a tea-table on the lawn at Appleyard, with Williamson standing beside her. The days were getting short, but the screen of stiff silver-firs kept off the light wind, and strong suns.h.i.+ne warmed the air. It was what the Scot calls a pet day; one borrowed from a finer season, and to be made the most of when winter was close at hand. Madge Whitney lay in a canvas lounge nearer the shelter of the trees, talking to Andrew, and several young men and women stood about the tennis net across the lawn. They seemed to be engaged in a good-humored dispute and their laughter followed a remark of d.i.c.k's.

Williamson glanced at his companion and saw that her eyes were fixed upon the boy. They were grave, and her expression was preoccupied, but he did not see the softness he had expected. Indeed, her interest in d.i.c.k was puzzling, because he did not think it was altogether accounted for by the hints Staffer had given him, and this was a point upon which he wished to be enlightened. Williamson knew something about women, but, for the most part, they were not women of very high character. With these he was not a favorite, although he was a clever talker and his manners were good.

”You do play tennis sometimes,” Elsie said after a silence.

Williamson smiled. Her meaning was obvious.

”Oh, yes, but one feels lazy now and then; and I imagined you let me stay because you wanted to talk to me! Was I wrong?”

”No,” answered Elsie; and he noted her unmoved calm.

She was young, but he had not expected shy hesitation or forced boldness from her. He was, however, surprised when she said nothing for the next minute; for he had usually found that an inexperienced antagonist s.h.i.+rks the strain of silence. Then he indicated d.i.c.k, who had just returned a difficult ball.

”He plays a good game.”

”d.i.c.k does a number of things pretty well, although there's none at which he really excels. I don't know which is the more useful--”

”You like a man to have some salient point of skill or character that those who know him can rely upon?”

He noticed her glance wander and did not know that she was half instinctively looking for Andrew, but it rested again on d.i.c.k, brooding but calm. Williamson saw that she felt no keen animosity against himself. She knew or suspected that they were, in some respects, opponents, but this did not make her vindictive. She would take the course she had determined on without hating him. This indicated strength of character, but it was too detached an att.i.tude for a young girl fighting for her lover.

”d.i.c.k looks better than he did,” he remarked to give her an opening.