Scarhaven Keep by J. S. Fletcher (best value ebook reader TXT) 📕

take, north, east, or south. But before he could put his thoughts into words, the door was suddenly unlocked, and Captain Andrius, suave, polite, deprecating, walked into the cabin.

“A thousands pardons⁠—and two words of explanation!” he exclaimed, as he executed a deep bow to his lady prisoner. “First⁠—Miss Greyle, I have sent a message to your mother that you are quite safe and will join her in due course. Second⁠—this is merely a temporary detention⁠—you shall all be landed⁠—all in good time.”

Vickers as a legal man, assumed his most professional air.

“Do you know what you are rendering yourself liable to, sir, by detaining us at all?” he demanded. “An action⁠—”

Captain Andrius bowed again; again assumed his deprecating smile. He waved the two men to seats and himself took a chair with his back to the door by which he entered.

“My dear sir!” he said courteously. “You forget that I am but a servant. I am under orders. However, I give my word that no harm shall come to you, that you shall be treated with every polite attention, and that you shall be landed.”

“When⁠—and where?” asked Vickers.

“Tomorrow, certainly,” replied Andrius. “As to where, I cannot exactly say. But⁠—where you will be in touch with⁠—shall we say civilization?”

He showed a set of fine white teeth in such a curious fashion as he spoke the last word that Copplestone and Vickers instinctively glanced at each other, with a mutual instinct of distrust.

“Won’t do!” said Vickers. “I insist that you put about and go into Scarhaven again.”

Andrius spread out his open palms and shook his head “Impossible!” he answered. “We are already en voyage. Time presses. Be placable⁠—tomorrow you shall be released.”

Vickers was about to answer this appeal with an angry refusal to be either placable or tractable, but he suddenly stopped the words which rose to his tongue. There was something in all this⁠—some mystery, some queer game, and it might be worth while to find it out.

“Where are you taking this yacht?” he demanded brusquely. “Come, now!”

“I am under⁠—orders,” said Andrius, with another smile.

“Whose orders?” persisted Vickers. “Look here⁠—it’s no use trying to burke facts. Who’s on board this vessel? You know what I mean. Is the man who calls himself Squire of Scarhaven here?”

Andrius shook his head quietly and gave his questioner a shrewd glance.

“Mr. Vickers,” he said meaningly, “I know you! You are a lawyer⁠—though a young one. Lawyers are guarded in their speech. Now⁠—we are alone⁠—we four. No one can hear anything we say. Tell me⁠—is that right what you said to me on deck, that the man who has called himself Marston Greyle is not so at all?”

“Absolutely right,” replied Vickers.

“An impostor?” demanded Andrius.

“He is!”

“And never had any right to⁠—anything?”

“No right whatever!”

“Then,” said Andrius, with a polite inclination of his head and shoulders to Audrey, “the truth is that everything of the Scarhaven property belongs to this lady?”

“Everything!” exclaimed Vickers. “Land, houses, furniture, valuables⁠—everything. All the property which you have on this yacht⁠—pictures, china, silver, books, objects of art, as I am instructed, removed from the house⁠—are Miss Greyle’s sole property. Once more I warn you of what you are doing, and I demand that you immediately return to Scarhaven. This very yacht belongs to Miss Greyle!”

Andrius nodded, looked fixedly at the young solicitor for a moment, and then rose.

“I am obliged to you,” he said. “That, of course, is your claim. But⁠—the other one, eh? It seems to me there might be something to be said for that, you know? So, all I can do is to renew my assurance of polite attention, offer you our best accommodation⁠—which is luxurious⁠—and promise to land you⁠—somewhere⁠—tomorrow. Miss Greyle, we have two women servants on board⁠—I shall send them to you at once and they will attend to you⁠—please consider them your own. You, gentlemen, will perhaps join me in my quarters?⁠—I have two spare cabins close to my own which are at your service.”

Copplestone and Vickers looked at each other and at Audrey⁠—undecided and vaguely suspicious. But Audrey was evidently neither alarmed nor uneasy⁠—she nodded a ready assent to the Captain’s proposal.

“Thank you, Captain Andrius,” she said coolly. “I know the two women. You may send one of them. Do what he suggests,” she murmured, turning to Copplestone, who had moved close to her, “I’m not one scrap afraid of anything⁠—and it’s only until tomorrow. He’ll land us⁠—I’m sure of it.”

There was nothing for it, then, but to follow Andrius to his own comfortable quarters. There, utterly ignoring the strange circumstances under which they met, he played the part of host with genuine desire to make his guests feel at ease, and when he showed them to their berths, a little later, he emphasized his assurance of their absolute safety and liberty.

“You see, gentlemen, your movements are untrammelled,” he said. “You can go in and out of your quarters as you like. You can go where you like on the yacht tomorrow morning. There is no restriction on you. Sleep well⁠—and tomorrow you are all free again, eh?”

Copplestone got a word or two with Vickers⁠—alone.

“What do you think?” he muttered. “Shall you sleep?”

“My impression⁠—for I know what you’re thinking about,” said Vickers, “is that Miss Greyle’s as safe as if she were in her mother’s house! She’s no fear, herself, anyway. There’s some mystery, somewhere, and I can’t make this Andrius man out at all, but I believe all’s right as regards personal safety. There’s Miss Greyle’s cabin, anyhow, right opposite ours⁠—and I can keep an eye and an ear open even when I’m asleep!”

But in spite of these assurances, Copplestone slept little. He was up, dressed, and on deck by sunrise, staring around him in a fresh autumn morning to get some notion of the yacht’s whereabouts, and he had just managed to make out a mere filmy line of land far to the westward when Audrey appeared at his elbow. There was no one of any importance near them and Copplestone impulsively seized her hands.

“I’ve