"SHADOWS BY THE SEA"

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 20114, 27 November 1928, Page 16

"SHADOWS BY THE SEA"

BY JEFFERSON FARJEON

CHAPTER XII. —(Continued). Leonard returned to liis room, closing the door softly alter him. Tho tall, angular figure of Nnpoleon Trnclovo was vaguely outlined against tho bay window. " Corno over here," whispered Leonard, nnd taking Napoleon by tho aim, led him tn nnother smaller window to tho left of the lmy, and farther away from Mr. Uriddlo's room. " What happened ? " asked Napoleon. Wo are havin' a lovely time." " Tho old fellow answered mo from his bed." " That'd bo on tho farther wall," murmured Napoleon. "At least, that's where it was when I slept in it." " Tho voire was from tho farther wall. So our question is—was Griddle thero nil (he time, or did lie slip over quickly •while t slipped out ? Did you hear anything, Truelovo ? " " The mouse did seem just a lit fie bit busy. Look hore, I say, couldn't we have the dear little light up? You know, I'd positively adoro a few seconds of illumination ! " " Not just yet, old chap. Tell me, is there a light-house out there?" Light-houso ? \ou do jerk one's mind about ! " " Or a light-ship." " No." "Then—look out of the window—quick ! How do you account for that ?" Napoleon looked out of the window, pnd his heart began to misbehave itself again. A little yellow gleam glowed through tho blackness. The next moment, it was gone. "Whew!" muttered Napoleon. That's the fourth time I've seen that light," remarked Leonard. " I've been watching. That's why I've been sitting in tho dark." " Ah," said Napoleon again, and grew thoughtful. " And you thought it might bo a light-ship?" " Ono considers all possibilities." Oh, yes. By all moans. And as it isn't a light-ship, you think it comes front our blessed old wreck?" " That's fairly obvious." " The blessed old wreck you and I proposo to row out to." " Yes."

Ah, said Napoleon again, and grew even more thoughtful. " You know, I'm going to tell you something, and I'd like you to make a note of it, to stick in my obituary," ho went on, alter a pause. "I'm a damned good spoil." " I agree to that," replied Leonard, and Napoleon found his hand gripped in the darkness. " Hut I'll think no less of you, if you wat.it to back out now." "Liar!" grunted Napoleon. "And, look here, tho next time you stick your jolly old paw out. l.ke that, foot vour liooter or something. Thanks for tho intention, and all that, hut you made no jump. Back out ? Well, s'pose I did hack out? What'd you do?" "I'd have to nuke tho trip alone." "Oh. You'd still make the trip?" " Of course." "Why?" " Don't you know ?" " P'r'aps I do—but I love conversation." • " I'll tell you why," said Leonard, smiling. " That is. one reason why. You rather like Miss Haines, don't you?" " Shut up," returned Napoleon. " I adore her." " Well, suppose she were in danger—" "Good Lord! She's not. is she?" !" No. But suppose sho were? Or supposo her father were in danger, or there were unv service you could do her-?" " I'd dive off the moon into an inkpot." interposed Napoleon, solemnly; and lidded, after a short silence, during which the little yellow light blinked :i filth time through the darkness, " I sav, you rather like Miss Fyne, don't you?" " Immensely," admitted Leonard. "Go on. * Why don't you say you adore her ? I do. That is—in a different way, you know. But look here, I say. What's your other reason ? You said she was only one. Wipe her out, and would you still go across a nasty big sea in a nasty little boat on a black, black night—oh, God, Napoleon, stop it " " I would," said Leonard. "In that case, you priceless dolt, you leave mo no alternative," pronounced Napoleon. " You want me. Goodness knows why. You shall have me. And to-morrow I'll be dead or five bob up. " Make it half-a-crown each, and I'll see you don't, die," responded Leonard, and, moving to the door, switched on the light. " Lord he c'loes do tilings iri a hurry," grumbled Napoleon Triielove. blinking. "Where are my dark glasses?" Leonard turned, and regarded his companion with frown. " Sorry, old man." murmured Napoleon, "but I was born with it." " Your face is all right., Triielove," said Leonard, "but, it's your suit I object to. Could you slip into one of mine? ' "I'll slip into a Chinese, kimono, if it'll give you nnv pleasure. darling," answered Napoleon, " but what s wrong with my own tailor ? Ife charged me eleven guineas." "Your suit's 100 light," explained Leonard. " Bright flannels are not fit for dark work. Good thing my trunk's turned up—you'll find a nice, sombre suit in that wardrobe." " You know, you're full of hapfy ideas," remarked Napoleon, walking toward the wardrobe. " I feel as if I'm dressing for a funeral. The question that's worrying me is—whoso funeral ire paused at the wardrobe door. " Look here, I say, I won't find anything else in this jolly old wardrobe besides your suit, will I?" " I sincerely hope not," replied Leonard. " Boo'" called Napoleon, as lie swung the door open. " Ass j" laughed Leonard " Granted, but always remember not a silly ass," said Napoleon, satisfying himself that all was w?ll. " There is method behind most, of my madness. 1 said ' Boo', for two reasons. One was to make you laugh, because 1 ciin'l, stand when you re serious. And the other was to make sure that, if anybody in the wardrobe was going to scare ine, I should scare him. too." While Napoleon Triielove exchanged his happy grey for a more sombre colour, Leonard gathered together a few interesting objects and placed them ill a bag. They included, among other things, a strong flash-lamp and a hatchet. " Haven't I seen Luigi choppiu' wood with that hatchet?" asked Napoleon, curiously. " Yes, you have," replied Leonnnl. "In a, short while, I expert to lie chopping wood with it." "Oh, yes, of course—that dear little door nn the wreck," nodded Napoleon, solemnly. " I say. Sefton, we arc going to spend a jolly evening!" CHAPTER XIII. CONCERNING A CAVE. XJnless you are in a sentimental mood, beaches are riot nice things on pitch dark nights. You know that behind you is. a cliff, which in daylight is full of cheerful colour, and that before you is a sea, which in daylight sparkles joyously, but when the sun has departed and the moon has not, taken its place, behind you and before you and on all sides of you are great, black snaces filled with uncomfortable possibilities. Dark beaches may not perhaps appeal to all peoplo in precisely this way, but this was tho way in which Hie beach at (Jraverley appealed to Napoleon Triielove when he and Leonard Sefton descended 1 o it. The blackened-out cliffs, instead of having occasional caves dotted about at pleasant intervals, became full of caves, ami in each cavern lurked some disturbing thing. Yet, if one turned to f;i< e the potential danger, ns self-protective instinct inclined one to do, the sea canm slipping mysteriously behind one, bearing its flotsam and jetsam of unreasoned and unreasonable forebodings. But tho fore-

A FASCINATING AND ROMANTIC DETECTIVE SERIAL.

(COPTIUGUT.)

bodings, in Napoleon's case, could not strictly bo called unreasonable, for as ho stood for a moment and watched the sheets of softly gliding white sweeping toward him and away from him—right on him one instant, receding far from him tho next, flouting perspective—he knew that in a very few minutes ho would bo riding across those waves toward a dead ship he could not see, on a mission the outcome of which he could not fathom. "Damned dark, isn't it?" he murmured. " Where's our little pleasure steamer, and how are we going to find it?" " Tho boat's beached in a large-sized cave," answered Leonard. " It's a little way along tho cliff to our right. I came upon it whilo I was searching for that disappearing corpse." " And got permission to use it, just when you liked ?" " No. I'm not asking permission from anybody this trip. Como along, wo'd better be moving. Hallo—see it ?" "Eh ? Sco what ?" jerked Napoleon, twisting his head round galvanically. " Tho light. Over there." Napoleon stared, rather grumpily. I " Yes, I see it. You'd think it was | a pretty bunch of flowers, the way you ! talk. And, by tho way, don't forget what I told you about giving me warning v hen you hike me from ono thing to anc. her " " Sorry," said Leonard, " but you'll get used to it." " I expect so. I shall get to love it, and I'll reftiso to spend any moro nights at home Well, there's one thing about that light. It'll help us to locato our ship. How on earth did yon reckon to make tho ship otherwiso ? Throw the dico and guess ?" " I, also, may be an ass, but I'm not a silly ass," responded Leonard. " I've taken my bearings—and I've got a compass " " Hooray," muttered Napoleon, disappointedly. " Then wo won tbe able to lilies if."

Tiiey were walking now toward the cave in which Leonard had discovered the boat. It was one of the first caves he had searched, and was one of tho few he had come upon large enough to serve as boathouse. They plodded across the sand for a couplo of minutes, Leonard flashing his light on the base of the cliffs at intervals while they walked, and ho was just beginning to wonder whether he had made a mistake and passed the cave when he saw its black opening a little way ahead. " Ah, there it is," he exclaimed. "Queer ho\V distance always confuses one at uight." " Don't see your boat," answered Napoleon. " Trctty snugly tucked away, isn't it ?" . Leonard did not answer immediately. Walking up to the cave entrance, he directed the ray of his flash-lamp toward the interior. " The boat's not there," he said. "Somebody's taken it." There was silence for a few moments, while tho two men considered tho position. One of the men, at least, found some fragment of consolation in their disappointment. " After all, it's not.so surprisin'," observed this one, as he followed the other into the cave. " If the boat, had been i ours, we would have had a right to kick up a shindy. The owner's just taken his blessed boat away, that's all." " It's not all," replied Leonard shortly. " It leaves us without a boat." " Ah, that's true," agreed Napoleon, struggling to introduce the requisite note of depression into his too-blithe voice. " Nor is the fact that the owner has taken his boat as natural as you suggest," went oil Leonard. "It's a bit dark for a journey, isn't it?" " That is undoubtedly true," murmured Napoleon. " In fact, I'm not only wondering what you and I are going to do withoLt that boat, Trueldve," said Leonard. " I'm wondering just as much what tho owner of the boat is doing with it." " I wouldn't worry, old chap," answered Napoleon. " He's probably havin' a lovely time—just as we were going to. But look here, I say—why shouldn't he have just moved the boat?" - " You mean it might be on another part of the beach ? Yes, of course, it might. And we'll have to hunt for it. I haven't much hope, but. Ho stopped speaking abruptly, and switched out his light. " Damn !" thought Napoleon. " And I was just beginning to feel happy again !'* They listened. Faint footsteps sounded outside the cave. They were slow, quiet, and stealthy. As the steps drew nearer, pausing every now and then for a few moments and then resuming, Leonard put his hand on his companion's shoulder and drew him back into an angle of the cave. At first. Napoleon gently resisted. Tho angle of the cave did not appeal to him any more than tho outside of the cave. But his resistance yielded precipitately when a shadowy figure suddenly made a blot on the dimness which vaguely differentiated the space at. tho entrance from the more opaque blackness of the cave's interior walls. Leonard did not have to pull Napoleon into the angle then. Napoleon now pushed to get there. With that momentary glimpse tantalising their minds, they awaited further developments. There was a long pause. The footsteps were resumed, their soft plop now changing 'to a more gritty, metallio tread as heavy boots met the harder substance of the cave's floor. Three strides, and silence fell again. The intruder was evidently standing just inside tho cave. Napoleon seriously considered the project, of yelling "Boo," because no situation could arise, he reflected, which could be more trying than tho present one. Any change must be for the better. But he resisted the temptation, and in about a minute tho footsteps sounded again. This time, however, they grew softer instead of louder; and, before long, they ceased altogether. " Good rid— " began Napoleon, and stopped in obedience to a gentle punch,. " Oh—you mean he may be waiting out—? " whispered Napoleon and received another punch. In three minutes, ho was allowed to speak. " Well, I s'pose your hush tactics are tiro correct thing," he murmured, " but sometimes I'm just mad about big noises. He's gone now, anyway. Who do you suppose ho was?" Who do you suppose ? " replied Leonard. "Haven't, the ghost!" said Napoleon. " Have you ? " " Yes, I've a ghost—hut I'm not certain." Let's hear your guess. My hat—not old Griddle. ? " It might have been Griddle." our tone has an unconvincing ring, dear lad. Let's hear who yon think it have been besides old Griddle? " Id rather not say for tho moment, if you don t mind. I've a reason. Anrl, in any case, I may be wrong. I'll set Jim, our hotel foot-hound on the track to-mor-row morning early, and maybe he'll identify the prints. Meanwhile, I'm rather interested to know what's behind Da'ling! protested Napoleon, with a gulp. Must you?" wim a I 1 'bought the cavo ended here" r™ ,r."' °"r ;■ i,ut # in'r I 1 n ' brought his flash-lamp rocks '°" n Kai "-' an ) ' , „ f' ,a . vefl on the "look ii " V |' 0% e • ''o exclaimed. k there—that twist. You'd it for a blind alley, but it's not! " lie slipped forward, and began to ede-n wa - v . between two rocks. " Wait a bit wait a bit," muttered Napoleon Damn it all, tho blessed •oat could ii t, have squeezed itself through tliere. 5 " I'm not, looking for the boat, now " answered Leonard. " I'm looking for something else." h Joy," whispered Napoleon, and followed. (To be continued daily.)