Part 49 (1/2)

The comfort and laziness made her drowsy, I expect. I know they did me. I caught myself nodding more and more.

Suddenly there was a jerk, effectually rousing me from my nodding condition. I thought we had struck something. The next instant I rolled on my back. A rope was round my arms and legs. The skipper was still at the helm, and he smiled as one of the hands tied me up. The other hand was doing the same to Mrs. Selborne.

There was fear in her face; she tried to speak, but could not.

”What the devil is--”

”A shut mouth, mister, is your best plan,” said the skipper. ”Get her down below, Jim. Chuck her on one of the bunks; she'll be out of the way there.”

”Help me! Save me!” she said as they lifted her up and carried her down.

”Now see here,” said the skipper, slipping a hand into his pocket and showing me a revolver, ”if you feel inclined to do any shouting, you suppress it, or this is going to drill a hole in your head. It's a detail that you might shout yourself hoa.r.s.e and no one would pay any attention.”

”What's the game?” I said. ”For the sake of the lady I might come to terms.”

”That's not the game, anyway, and I don't want any conversation.”

Quarles! I thought of him now. The hotel gang was at work, and this was one of the moves. How it was going to serve their ends I did not see, unless--unless I was presently dropped overboard.

It was an unpleasant contemplation, and I am afraid I cursed Quarles. If he had only told me a little more I might at least have been prepared and made a fight for it. What about Mrs. Selborne? Would they drown her, too?

They might put her ash.o.r.e somewhere.

The coast about Dungeness is desolate enough. It would be easy to slip in after dark and leave her. Not a sound came from the cabin, and the two hands returned to the deck. By the skipper's orders they lashed me in a sitting position to a skylight.

We were still standing out to sea, and one of the hands took the tiller; the other received instructions to kick the wind out of me if I shouted or began asking questions. Then the skipper went below.

I listened, but I could not hear him speak to Mrs. Selborne.

It was fine sunset that evening. When we presently came round and stood in towards sh.o.r.e I got a feast of color over Romney Marsh. Watching the ever-changing colors as the night crept out of the sea, I remembered that Quarles was interested in Romney Marsh, in a lonely house there about which he had had no time to tell me last night; had this lonely house an interest for me? I tried to work out the plot in a dozen ways, endeavoring to understand how the thieves could secure themselves if I were allowed to live.

That gorgeous sunset was depressing. The coming night might be so full of ominous meaning for me.

It was dark by the time we drew in towards the sh.o.r.e. A light or two marked Dymchurch to our left, to our right were the lights of Hythe.

By what landmark the skipper chose his position I do not know, but presently the anchor was let go and we swung round. The tide must have been nearly at the full. A few minutes later the dinghy was got into the water, and the steps let down.

Everything was accomplished as neatly and deliberately as I had seen it done each time I had gone sailing in the yacht.

Then the skipper came over to me and tried my bonds to make sure I had not worked them loose under cover of the darkness.

”All right,” he said. ”You can get her up.”

Evidently they were going to take Mrs. Selborne ash.o.r.e.

She came up on deck, she was not brought up. She was not bound in any way.

”Half past ten,” said the skipper. ”Sure you will be all right alone?”

I could not tell to which of the hands he spoke; at any rate, he got no answer except by a nod, perhaps. Half past ten; that was the time Mrs.

Selborne's husband was to arrive.