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

you’d have helped yourself to it? And now I know what you were doing on that yacht when we boarded it⁠—you were one of the gang, and you meant to hook it with them⁠—”

“I didn’t⁠—I didn’t!” screamed Chatfield, beating the sand with his hands and feet. “I meant to slip away from ’em at a Scotch port we was to call at, and then⁠—”

“Then you’d have gone back to the hidden chests and helped yourself,” sneered Vickers. “Chatfield, you’re a wicked old scoundrel, and an unmitigated liar! Give me that paper that Miss Greyle signed, this instant!”

“No!” interjected Audrey. “Let him keep it. He’ll have trouble enough presently. It’s very evident they mean to have him.”

Chatfield heard the last few words and looked round at the edge of the surf. The boat had grounded on the shingle, and half a dozen men had leapt from it and were coming rapidly up the beach.

“Armed, by George!” exclaimed Copplestone. “No chance for you, Chatfield!”

The agent suddenly sprang to his feet with a howl of terror. He gave one more glance at the men and then he ran, clumsily, but with a speed made desperate by terror. He made straight for the rocks⁠—and at that, two of the men, at a word from their leader, raised their rifles and fired. And with a shriek that set all the echoes ringing, the seabirds screaming, and made Audrey clap her hands to her ears, Chatfield threw up his arms and dropped heavily on the sands.

“That’s sheer murder!” exclaimed Vickers, as the yachtsmen came running up. “You’ll answer for that, you know. Unless you mean to murder all of us.”

The leader, a smiling-faced fellow, touched his cap respectfully, and grinned from ear to ear.

“Lor’ bless you, sir, we shot twenty feet over his head!” he said. “He’s too precious to shoot: they want him badly on board there. Now then, men, pick him up and get him into the boat⁠—he’ll come round quick enough when he finds he hasn’t even a pellet in him. Handy, now! Captain’s compliments, sir,” he went on, turning again to Vickers, and pointing to certain things which were being unloaded from the boat, “and as he understands that no vessel will pass here for two more days, sir, he’s sent you further provisions, some more wraps, and some books and papers.”

XXIV The Torpedo-Boat Destroyer

Before Vickers and his companions had recovered from the surprise which this extraordinary cool message had given them, the men had bundled Chatfield across the beach and into the boat and were pulling quickly back to the Pike.

Audrey broke the silence with a ringing laugh.

“Captain Andrius is certainly the perfection of polite pirates,” she exclaimed. “More food⁠—more wraps⁠—and books and papers! Was any marooned mariner ever one-half so well treated?”

“What’s the fellow mean about no vessel passing here for two more days?” growled Copplestone, who was glaring angrily at the yacht. “What’s he so meticulously correct for?”

“I should say that he’s referring to some weekly or biweekly steamer which runs between Kirkwall and the mainland,” replied Vickers. “Well⁠—it’s good to know that, anyhow. But wait until the Pike’s vamoosed again, and we’ll make up such a column of smoke that it’ll be seen for many a mile. In fact, I’ll go and gather a lot of dried stuff now⁠—you two can drag those boxes and things up the beach and see what our gaolers have been good enough to send us.”

He went away up the cliffs, and Audrey and Copplestone, once more left alone, looked at each other and laughed.

“That’s right,” said Copplestone. “What I like about you is that you take things that way.”

“Is it any use taking them any other way?” she asked. “Besides I’ve never been at all frightened nor particularly concerned. I’ve always felt that we were only put here so that we should be out of the way while our captors got safely away with their booty, and as regards my mother, I know her well enough to feel sure that she quickly sized things up, and that she’ll have taken measures of her own. Don’t be surprised if we’re rescued through her means or if she has set somebody to work to catch the predatory Pike.”

“Good!” said Copplestone. “But as regards the Pike, I wonder if you observed something during the few minutes she was here. I’m sure Vickers didn’t⁠—he was too busy, watching Chatfield.”

“So was I,” replied Audrey. “What was it?”

“I believe I’m unusually observant,” answered Copplestone. “I seem to see things⁠—all at once, don’t you know. I saw that since we made her acquaintance⁠—and were unceremoniously bundled off her⁠—the Pike has got a new and quite different coat of paint. And I daresay she’s changed her name, too. From all of which I argue that when they got rid of us here, the people who are working all this slipped quietly back to some cove or creek on the Scotch coast, did a stiff turn at repainting, and meant to be off to the other side of the world under new colours. And while this was going on, Andrius, or his co-villain, found time to examine those chests that Chatfield told us of, and when they found that Chatfield had done them, they came back here quick. Now they’re off to make him reveal the whereabouts of the real chests.”

“Won’t they be rather running their necks into a noose?” suggested Audrey. “I’m dead certain that my mother will have raised a hue and cry after them.”

“They’re cute enough,” said Copplestone. “Anyway, they’ll run a good many risks for the sake of fifty thousand pounds. What they may do is to run into some very quiet inlet⁠—there are hundreds on these northern coasts⁠—and take Chatfield to his hiding place. Chatfield’s like all scoundrels of his type⁠—a horrible coward if a pistol’s held to his head. Now they’ve got him, they’ll force him to disgorge. Hang this compulsory inactivity!⁠—my nerves are