The Secret of Sarek Part 17

At that moment, one of the first two collapsed from exhaustion; and the other, whose eyes were bright with fever, seized Veronique by the arm and began to gasp:

"Did you see them, tell me? . . . Are they there? . . . How is it they didn't kill you? . . . They are the masters of Sarek since the others went off . . . . And it's our turn next . . . . We've been locked in here now for six days . . . . Listen, it was on the day when everybody left. We three came here, to the wash-house, to fetch our linen, which was drying. And then _they_ came . . . . We didn't hear them . . . . One never does hear them . . . . And then, suddenly, the door was locked on us . . . . A slam, a turn of the key . . . and the thing was done . . . . We had bread, apples and best of all, brandy . . . . We didn't do so badly . . . . Only, were they going to come back and kill us? Was it our turn next? . . . Oh, my dear good lady, how we strained our ears!

And how we trembled with fear! . . . My eldest sister's gone crazy . . . . Hark, you can hear her raving . . . . The other, Clemence, has borne all she can . . . . And I . . . I . . . Gertrude . . ."

Gertrude had plenty of strength left, for she was twisting Veronique's arm:

"And Correjou? He came back, didn't he, and went away again? Why didn't anyone come to look for us? It would have been easy enough: everybody knew where we were; and we called out at the least sound. So what does it all mean?"

Veronique hesitated what to reply. Still, why should she conceal the truth?

She replied:

"The two boats went down."

"What?"

"The two boats sank in view of Sarek. All on board were drowned. It was opposite the Priory . . . after leaving the Devil's Pa.s.sage."

Veronique said no more, so as to avoid mentioning the names of Francois and his tutor or speaking of the part which these two had played. But Clemence now sat up, with distorted features. She had been leaning against the door and raised herself to her knees.

Gertrude murmured:

"And Honorine?"

"Honorine is dead."

"Dead!"

The two sisters both cried out at once. Then they were silent and looked at each other. The same thought struck them both. They seemed to be reflecting. Gertrude was moving her fingers as though counting. And the terror on their two faces increased.

Speaking in a very low voice, as though choking with fear, Gertrude, with her eyes fixed on Veronique, said:

"That's it . . . that's it . . . I've got the total . . . . Do you know how many there were in the boats, without my sisters and me? Do you know? Twenty . . . . Well, reckon it up: twenty . . . and Maguennoc, who was the first to die . . . and M. Antoine, who died afterwards . . . and little Francois and M. Stephane, who vanished, but who are dead too . . . and Honorine and Marie Le Goff, both dead . . . . So reckon it up: that makes twenty-six, twenty-six . . . The total's correct, isn't it?

. . . Now take twenty-six from thirty . . . . You understand, don't you?

The thirty coffins: they have to be filled . . . . So twenty-six from thirty . . . leaves four, doesn't it?"

She could no longer speak; her tongue faltered. Nevertheless the terrible syllables came from her mouth; and Veronique heard her stammering:

"Eh? Do you understand? . . . That leaves four . . . us four . . . the three sisters Archignat, who were kept behind and locked up . . . and yourself . . . . So--do you follow me?--the three crosses--you know, the 'four women crucified'--the number's there . . . it's our four selves . . . there's no one besides us on the island . . . four women . . . ."

Veronique had listened in silence. She broke out into a slight perspiration.

She shrugged her shoulders, however:

"Well? And then? If there's no one except ourselves on the island, what are you afraid of?"

"_Them_, of course! _Them!_"

Veronique lost her patience:

"But if everybody has gone!" she exclaimed.

Gertrude took fright:

"Speak low. Suppose they heard you!"

"But who?"

"_They_: the people of old."

"The people of old?"

"Yes, those who used to make sacrifices . . . the people who killed men and women . . . to please their G.o.ds."

"But that's a thing of the past! The Druids: is that what you mean?

Come, come; there are no Druids nowadays."

"Speak quietly! Speak quietly! There are still . . . there are evil spirits . . ."

"Then they're ghosts?" asked Veronique, horror-stricken by these superst.i.tions.

"Ghosts, yes, but ghosts of flesh and blood . . . with hands that lock doors and keep you imprisoned . . . creatures that sink boats, the same, I tell you, that killed M. Antoine, Marie Le Goff and the others . . .

that killed twenty-six of us . . . ."

Veronique did not reply. There was no reply to make. She knew, she knew only too well who had killed M. d'Hergemont, Marie Le Goff and the others and sunk the two boats.

"What time was it when the three of you were locked in?" she asked.

"Half-past ten . . . . We had arranged to meet Correjou in the village at eleven."

Veronique reflected. It was hardly possible that Francois and Stephane should have had time to be at half-past ten in this place and an hour later to be behind the rock from which they had darted out upon the two boats. Was it to be presumed that one or more of their accomplices were left on the island?

"In any case," she said, "you must come to a decision. You can't remain in this state. You must rest yourselves, eat something . . . ."

The second sister had risen to her feet. She said, in the same hollow and violent tones as her sister:

"First of all, we must hide . . . and be able to defend ourselves against _them_."

"What do you mean?" asked Veronique.

She too, in spite of herself, felt this need of a refuge against a possible enemy.

"What do I mean? I'll tell you. The thing has been talked about a lot in the island, especially this year; and Maguennoc decided that, at the first attack, everybody should take shelter in the Priory."

"Why in the Priory?"

"Because we could defend ourselves there. The cliffs are perpendicular.

You're protected on every side."