THE ISLAND.

Waikato Times, Volume 113, Issue 18874, 18 February 1933, Page 15 (Supplement)

THE ISLAND.

rpHE yawl M*ald Marian lay at anchor in Torray Bay. Trig but business' like, elegant yet seaworthy, for all that she was built for the whimsical pleasure of a rich man, she rode like some strong, graceful pea-bird on the easy swell that found ts way round the Island from the Atlantlo. Her brasses and spars shone in the evening sunlight, and the little ripples on the slow-heaving waters were reflected delicately on her smooth black sides and shapely counter. Built for pleasure was the Maid Marian; and truly It. seemed that life had little more In the way of happiness to give to the two young men who lounged in basket chairs on her scoured deck. But if pleasure is easily come by, Its savour Is easily lost. The owner of Maid Marian could have told you that. He had seen so many evenings like that, had anchored in the bays of so many islands like this. He was bored; and his boredom—as always with the spoilt children of fortune—was turning to petulance. His dark, handsome face betrayed as much, when at length he broke the silence that had lasted between him and his companions ever since they he emerged on uecK from the evening meal. „ “It is a dull business, after all, this cruising among the Hebrides,” he said. His companion smiled. He knew Dalroy's trouble —and the remedy. For himself, he had come out of a City office to snatch this fortnight of pleasant sailing among sunlit Isles, and wa3 thankful for the mercies. 11 It's anything hut dull. It's uneventful, perhaps, an easy-going sort of life with nothing to worry one. That Is the charm of it. Oh, It’s not dull!" J „ . “ Your’e easily pleased, Seytoun, said Dalroy sourly. “ But think of it, man! Always the same gentle sail in the same sort of weather, from one island to another exactly the same. Look there- " He waved an Impatient hand toward the shore: ‘ One Island like another; with a handful of orofters and fishermen, a minister or a priest, half a dozen scraggy -cows, a Bcore of sheep, and the same sort of heather and rocks.” •• You haven’t been ashore on Torray yet," Interjected Seytoun. * And I don’t intend to go,” snapped Dalroy. “ It’s just the same as the others." .. “•It looks different to me," said Sevtoun mildly. “ Oh, it has a different shape, of course,’ and perhaps there are seven cows instead of six.” “ Not only that,” persisted Seytoun; “it’s smaller than any we have visited. There’s neither church nor chapel—you can see that from here. There’s the merest handful of hovels. And then —this is the big difference, Dalroy— that big house on the hill there is out of all proportion to the size of the island and the poverty of the village."

“ Well ” “ Well—lt is different, that’s all. Why such a hig house, seeing that it can't be a manse or presbytery.” "Well?” Dalroy was determined not to be moved. *• jdy dear chap, please don’t keep on saying ‘well’. How can I know? I’m only making It clear to. you that this Island, Torray, Is different from the others, that it Is Interesting, that It is worth while going ashore to look for adventure.” " Adventure 1” Dalroy snorted. “ There's none here—or anywhere in the twentieth century 1 If we’re fools enough to go only be asked to buy picture postcards!” ; * sevtoun smiled whimsically at his. bitterly cynical friend. “ And would you like a real adventure, little man?" he teased. " Oh, it might brighten things up.” >• well, you can at least go ashore and look for one." “Not 11” snapped Dalroy. “I’m going to bed. Come along." “What a spoiled child it is!" chaffed Seytoun. They went below. It was not the first time they had discussed the romance, or lack of it, in modern life, nor the first time they had agreed to disagree. Such a discussion, in fact, was a nightly affair for those oddlyassorted friends; this evening It was not so much bitter than usual as to disturb them. They turned in while It was still daylight, and slept soundly. The Maid Marian was a ship asleep. Forward, the three hands snored in their canvas cots as their master and their master's friend did in the neat little cabin aft. The yawl lay defenceless under the clear sky. Cordage slatted against the spars and on the deck, the burgee flicked at the masthead, and the dinghy lugged on. the rope at the stern. Lint no waleiikeeper paced those spotless decks. ]t was as if the yacht lay in the friendly safely of a crowded dock and not in a lonely hay under the pale northern stars. And darkness fell about, the little ship. It was after midnight when Feytoun was awakended by noises on fleck. He sat up in his hunk and listened. There il was again—a slow humping as of a boat alongside. The dinghy, of course the dinghy was always drifting up against the counter and spoiling the paintwork; and Palmy never seemed to hear it. confound his sleepy head! Scyloun rose with a grunt of annoyance and padded across Hie cold waxcloth to his companion. He felt that the night wind was lowing away every comfortable inclination 'to sleep. Curse that dinghv; lie started violently when a hoarse voice whispered to him out of fho darkness. "Quietly for the love of life!” Quiet ly." ••Hullo! what's that?” Seytoun

By George Blake

felt that his voice was not his own

He peered over the side Into the dim face of a man, who held hla boat to the yawl with one hand on a oleat. Seytoun stared, and asked again: “ What’s up? " “ Trouble for you, If you are not careful,” whispered the stranger. “ It’s a long story.” “ Walt a moment,” said Seytoun, in a flurry. He dived for his companion and roused an aggrieved Dalroy from sleep, hurrying him on deck. The stranger had boarded the yawl and faced them coolly; his boat floated behind at the end of a painter. “What’s the game?" Dalroy was angry. “ It’s not a game—far from it," said the solmn whispering voice. “ I’m in trouble.” He paused, then added hopefully: “I’m a gentleman like yourself.” “ Come below, where we can talk,” said Dalroy shortly. The light of the cabin lamps shone on the strangest figure of one who had ever laid claim to the rank of gentlemman. Out of a pallid faoe, fringed with a ragged growth of sandy heard, gleamed a pair of restless eyes, the eyes of a broken man. The dress was as odd and unbeautiful as the faoe; the stranger wore rough, 111-flttlng trousers of blue serge and a heavy, shapeless jersey of rough wool. He was hatless, and his red hair hung In matted strands to his shoulders. “ You may well stare,” he said bitterly. “ I guess I don’t look much like a human being. But four years ago I was like you. And I’ve been here ever since—growing more like an ape all the time, I suppose. My name is Nash, so far as I remember." “What happened?" asked Dalroy, still suspicious. “1 went ashore. That was all—” said the stranger. “I’d advise you to stay where you are." “Why?” “ Because he’ll get you, that old fiend. He got me—and look at me!” " Who got you ? " “ Old Macleod, the boss of this island. You saw that big house on the hill? Well, that’s his place. He owns Torray, and he runs It like a slave-plantation. The people, there are about 'fifty of them, are slaves — Ignorant and all that. He Is an old fiend. Really he is; only stops short of cannibalism. Nobody who lands on Torray' gets off again—alive.” 11 But ” protested Seytoun. “ There’s not 1 but cried Nash angrily. “ I’m giving you facts. This old villain is mad, a lunatic. And he’s got some sort of secret, and he thinks (hat anybody who lands may find It out and give the show away when they get back home. So they don’t get back. Look at me!" " But the j thing’s preposterous! ” Dalroy’s sense of the comfort and stability of life was outraged.

”It Is. But It’s true," said Nash curtly. “But the law " “Law he Mowed! Old Macleod Is his own judge, and policeman, and House of Lords in one. Don’t you see? —Torray is miles from anywhere. Nobody knows about It. There are no taxes, no laws, no nothing, unless that old villain says so.” Dalroy looked at’ Seytoun. They gazed at each other blankly for a moment, while Nash let his eyes roam hungrily over the luxurious cabin fittings. Dalroy returned to the attack. “ Well, you don’t want us to go ashore. What about yourself? " “ That's why I came. Don’t think four years of Torray have made me a philanthropist. I've given you warning, and I want paying for it. I want a passage to the mainland. “ On your bare word? ” interjected Seytoun quietly. “Yes. I’m a gentleman, if I haven't had my hair cut lately!” Nash was annoyed. “ But I’m not satisfied,” Dalroy went on stolidly. The eyes of the stranger fell pathetically before those of the young man. He unlocked and locked his fingers nervously. “ It’s a dashed hard case,” he said at last humbly, “ You won’t take my word, though I tell you on my honour. And to prove it you would havo to go ashore. And If you do you'll never come off again.” Seytoun smiled to the wretch encouragingly. “ It’s not your honour we doubt,” he said gently. “ But the facts about Torray arc rather odd, you know. Perhaps you are taking It all rather—dramatically.” “ .lust you go ashore and see," muttered Nash. “ 1 mean to do so,” said Dalroy firmly. Seytoun looked at him sharply; hut Ire went on: “ Your pal. Macleod, won’t touch me. I'm going to. have a look round. And when I’ve had it. I’ll give you Unit passage to the mainland—if It’s all right." Nash stared as at one who flouted sanity. “ You are mad,” he said bluntly. "As you please,’ said Dalroy. “ 1 mean what I say.” The stranger rose wearily. He passed a hand over his eyes, t lien looked down on Hie friends sadly. You’ve taken my lasi chance from me. And now you are going to break yourselves. I'm going hack—to purcatory.” "Oh. it’s not so had as all that," said Dairov. with a levity that was feigned. You’ll se. Oh yes. you'll see," replied Nash wearily. They followed him on deck, and watched him embark in silence. He pushed off from Die yawl, hut hung for a moment on lais oars. (To be continued next week.)