Part 12 (1/2)

Merriman received the news with a dismay approaching positive horror.

He had but one thought--Madeleine. How did the situation affect her? Was she in trouble? In danger? Was she so entangled that she could not get out? Never for a moment did it enter his head that she could be willingly involved.

”My goodness! Hilliard,” he cried hoa.r.s.ely, ”whatever does it all mean?

Surely it can't be criminal? They,”--he hesitated slightly, and Hilliard read in a different p.r.o.noun--”they never would join in such a thing.”

Hilliard took the bull by the horns.

”That Miss Coburn would take part in anything shady I don't for a moment believe,” he declared, ”but I'm afraid I wouldn't be so sure of her father.”

Merriman shook his head and groaned.

”I know you're right,” he admitted to the other's amazement. ”I saw--I didn't mean to tell you, but now I may as well. That first evening, when we went up to call, you probably don't remember, but after he had learned who we were he turned round to pull up a chair. He looked at you; I saw his face in a mirror. Hilliard, it was the face of a--I was going to say, a devil--with hate and fear. But the look pa.s.sed instantly. When he turned round he was smiling. It was so quick I half thought I was mistaken. But I know I wasn't.”

”I saw fear on his face when he recognized you that same evening,”

Hilliard replied. ”We needn't blink at it, Merriman. Whether willingly or unwillingly, Mr. Coburn's in the thing. That's as certain as that we're here.”

”But what is it? Have you any theory?”

”No, not really. There was that one of brandy smuggling that I mentioned before. I suggest it because I can suggest nothing else, but I admit I saw no evidence of it.”

Merriman was silent for several minutes as the boat slid over the smooth water. Then with a change of manner he turned once more to his friend.

”I suppose we couldn't leave it alone? Is it our business after all?”

”If we don't act we become accessories, and besides we leave that girl to fight her own battles.”

Merriman clenched his fists and once more silence reigned. Presently he spoke again:

”You had something in your mind?”

”I think we must do one of two things. Either continue our investigations until we learn what is going on, or else clear out and tell the police what we have learned.”

Merriman made a gesture of dissent.

”Not that, not that,” he cried. ”Anything rather than the police.”

Hilliard gazed vacantly on the long line of the coast.

”Look here, old man,” he said, ”Wouldn't it be better if we discussed this thing quite directly? Don't think I mean to be impertinent--G.o.d knows I don't--but am I not right in thinking you want to save Miss Coburn all annoyance, and her father also, for her sake?”

”We needn't talk about it again,” Merriman said in a hard voice, looking intently at the stem of the mast, ”but if it's necessary to make things clear, I want to marry her if she'll have me.”

”I thought so, old man, and I can only say--the best of luck! As you say, then, we mustn't call in the police, and as we can't leave the thing, we must go on with our own inquiry. I would suggest that if we find out their scheme is something illegal, we see Mr. Coburn and give him the chance to get out before we lodge our information.”

”I suppose that is the only way,” Merriman said doubtfully. After a pause Hilliard went on:

”I'm not very clear, but I'm inclined to think we can do no more good here at present. I think we should try the other end.”

”The other end?”