The Riddle of the Sands Part 32

I must explain that we had floated up between the yacht and the launch, whose sailors had pa.s.sed her a little aside in order to give us room. Her starboard side-light was just behind and above us, pouring its green rays obliquely over the deck of the 'Dulcibella', while we and the dinghy were in deep shadow between. The most studied calculation could not have secured us more favourable conditions for a moment which I had always dreaded--the meeting of Davies and Dollmann. The former, having shortened his sculls, just sat where he was, half turned towards the yacht and looking up at his enemy. No lineament of his own face could have been visible to the latter, while those pitiless green rays--you know their ravaging effect on the human physiognomy--struck full on Dollmann's face. It was my first fair view of it at close quarters, and, secure in my background of gloom, I feasted with a luxury of superst.i.tious abhorrence on the livid smiling mask that for a few moments stooped peering down towards Davies. One of the caprices of the crude light was to obliterate, or at any rate so penetrate, beard and moustache, as to reveal in outline lips and chin, the features in which defects of character are most surely betrayed, especially when your victim smiles. Accuse me, if you will, of stooping to melodramatic embroidery; object that my own prejudiced fancy contributed to the result; but I can, nevertheless, never efface the impression of malignant perfidy and base pa.s.sion, exaggerated to caricature, that I received in those few instants. Another caprice of the light was to identify the man with the portrait of him when younger and clean-shaven, in the frontispiece of his own book; and another still, the most repulsively whimsical of all, was to call forth a strong resemblance to the sweet young girl who had been with us yesterday.

Enough! I shall never offend again in this way. In reality I am much more inclined to laugh than shudder over this meeting; for meanwhile the third of our self-invited guests had with stertorous puffing risen to the stage, for all the world like a demon out of a trap-door, specially when he entered the zone of that unearthly light. And there they stood in a row, like delinquents at judgement, while we, the true culprits, had only pa.s.sively to accept explanations. Of course these were plausible enough. Dollmann having seen the yacht in port that morning had called on his return from Memmert to ask us to supper. Finding no one aboard, and concluding we were ash.o.r.e, he had meant to leave a note for Davies in the cabin.

His friend, Herr Bohme, _'the distinguished engineer',_ was anxious to see over the little vessel that had come so far, and he knew that Davies would not mind the intrusion. Not at all, said Davies; would not they stop and have drinks? No, but would we come to supper at Dollmann's villa? With pleasure, said Davies, but we had to change first. Up to this point we had been masters of the situation; but here von Bruning, who alone of the three appeared to be entirely at his ease, made the _retour offensif_.

'Where have you been?' he asked.

'Oh, rowing about since the fog cleared,' said Davies.

I suppose he thought that evasion would pa.s.s muster, but as he spoke, I noticed to my horror that a stray beam of light was playing on the bunch of white cotton-waste that adorned one of the rowlocks: for we had forgotten to remove these tell-tale appendages. So I added: 'After ducks again'; and, lifting one of the guns, let the light flash on its barrel. To my own ears my voice sounded husky and distant.

'Always ducks,' laughed von Bruning. 'No luck, I suppose?'

'No,' said Davies; 'but it ought to be a good time after sunset--'

'What, with a rising tide and the banks covered?'

'We saw some,' said Davies, sullenly.

'I tell you what, my zealous young sportsmen, you're rash to leave your boat at anchor here after dark without a light. I came aboard to find your lamp and set it.'

'Oh, thanks,' said Davies; 'we took it with us.'

'To see to shoot by?'

We laughed uncomfortably, and Davies compa.s.sed a wonderful German phrase to the effect that 'it might come in useful'. Happily the matter went no farther, for the position was a strained one at the best, and would not bear lengthening. The launch went alongside, and the invaders evacuated British soil, looking, for all von Bruning's flippant nonchalance, a rather crestfallen party. So much so, that, acute as was my anxiety, I took courage to whisper to Davies, while the trans.h.i.+pment of Herr Bohme was proceeding: 'Ask Dollmann to stay while we dress.'

'Why?' he whispered.

'Go on.'

'I say, Herr Dollmann,' said Davies, 'won't you stay on board with us while we dress? There's a lot to tell you, and--and we can follow on with you when we're ready.'

Dollmann had not yet stepped into the launch. 'With pleasure,' he said; but there followed an ominous silence, broken by von Bruning.

'Oh, come along, Dollmann, and let them alone,' he said brusquely.

'You'll be horribly in the way down there, and we shall never get any supper if you keep them yarning.'

'And it's now a quarter-past eight o'clock,' grumbled Herr Bohme from his corner behind the hood. Dollmann submitted, and excused himself, and the launch steamed away.

'I think I twig,' said Davies, as he helped, almost hoisted, me aboard. 'Rather risky though--eh?'

'I knew they'd object--only wanted to make sure.'

The cabin was just as we had left it, our sh.o.r.e clothes lying in disorder on the bunks, a locker or two half open.

'Well, I wonder what they did down here,' said Davies.

For my part I went straight to the bookshelf.

'Does anything strike you about this?' I asked, kneeling on the sofa.

'Logbook's s.h.i.+fted,' said Davies. 'I'll swear it was at the end before.'

'That doesn't matter. Anything else?'

'By Jove!--where's Dollmann's book?'

'It's here all right, but not where it should be.' I had been reading it, you remember, overnight, and in the morning had replaced it in full view among the other books. I now found it behind them, in a wrenched att.i.tude, which showed that someone who had no time to spare had pushed it roughly inwards.

'What do you make of that?' said Davies.

He produced long drinks, and we allowed ourselves ten minutes of absolute rest, stretched at full length on the sofas.

'They don't trust Dollmann,' I said. 'I spotted that at Memmert even.'

'How?'

'First, when they were talking about you and me. He was on his defence, and in a deuce of a funk, too. Bohme was pressing him hard.

Again, at the end, when he left the room followed by Grimm, who I'm certain was sent to watch him. It was while he was away that the other two arranged that rendezvous for the night of the _25th._ And again just now, when you asked him to stay. I believe it's working out as I thought it would. Von Bruning, and through him Bohme (who is the 'engineer from Bremen'), know the story of that short cut and suspect that it was an attempt on your life. Dollmann daren't confess to that, because, morality apart, it could only have been prompted by extreme necessity--that is, by the knowledge that you were really dangerous, and not merely an inquisitive stranger. Now we know his motive; but they don't yet. The position of that book proves it.'

'He shoved it in?'

'To prevent them seeing it. There's no earthly reason why _they_ should have hidden it.'

'Then we're getting on,' said Davies. 'That shows they know his real name, or why should he shove the book in? But they don't know he wrote a book, and that I have a copy.'

'At any rate he _thinks_ they don't; we can't say more than that.'

'And what does he think about me--and you?'

'That's the point. Ten to one he's in tortures of doubt, and would give a fortune to have five minutes' talk alone with you to see how the land lies and get your version of the short cut incident. But they won't let him. They want to watch him in our company and us in his; you see it's an interesting reunion for you and him.'

'Well, let's get into these beastly clothes for it,' groaned Davis.

'I shall have a plunge overboard.'

Something drastic was required, and I followed his example, curious as the hour was for bathing.

'I believe I know what happened just now,' said I, as we plied rough towels in the warmth below. 'They steamed up and found n.o.body on board. "I'll leave a note," says Dollmann. "No independent communications," say they (or think they), "we'll come too, and take the chance of inspecting this hornets' nest." Down they go, and Dollmann, who knows what to look for first, sees that d.a.m.ning bit of evidence staring him in the face. They look casually at the shelf among other things--examine the logbook, say--and he manages to push his own book out of sight. But he couldn't replace it when the interruption came. The action would have attracted attention _then,_ and Bohme made him leave the cabin in advance, you know.'

'This is all very well,' said Davies, pausing in his toilet, 'but do they guess how we've spent the day? By Jove, Carruthers, that chart with the square cut out; there it is on the rack!'

'We must chance it, and bluff for all we're worth,' I said. The fact was that Davies could not be brought to realize that he had done anything very remarkable that day; yet those fourteen sinuous miles traversed blindfold, to say nothing of the return journey and my own exploits, made up an achievement audacious and improbable enough to out-distance suspicion. Nevertheless, von Bruning's banter had been disquieting, and if an inkling of our expedition had crossed his mind or theirs, there were ways of testing us which it would require all our effrontery to defeat.

'What are you looking for?' said Davies. I was at the collar and stud stage, but had broken off to study the time-table which we had bought that morning.

'Somebody insists on coming by the night train to somewhere, on the _25th_,' I reminded him. 'Bohme, von Bruning, and Grimm are to meet the Somebody.'

'Where?'