Thick fog lay upon the water when Jimmy wakened. He slipped off the locker1 and, standing2 with his bent3 head among the deckbeams, looked at Bethune with heavy eyes.
“Is it dark?” he asked. “How long have I slept?”
“It is not dark yet. How do you feel?”
“I think I’m all right. Did you get the case?”
“Sure!” smiled Bethune. “It’s safe under the floorings and heavy enough to make the salvage4 worth having. But I came down to bring you this note from Aynsley. One of his men brought it and his gig’s waiting alongside.”
Jimmy opened the note and read it aloud in the dim light of the cabin.
“I shall consider it a favor if you will come across at once. My father seems very ill and he insists on seeing you.”
“I’d better go,” Jimmy said. “After all, we couldn’t have got the case without his help, and, in a way, I’m sorry for him. He must have known he was running a big risk, but he was very plucky5.”
“It can’t do much harm,” Bethune agreed. “Somehow I feel that we have nothing more to fear from him. For all that, I wish I could go with you.”
“I suppose that wouldn’t do,” said Jimmy thoughtfully.
“No; you can’t take your lawyer along when you visit a sick man. Still, if he’s not quite as bad as Aynsley thinks, you may as well be on your guard.”
Jimmy got into the waiting boat and the men plied7 the oars8 rhythmically9. A bank of clammy fog rested on the slate-green heave that moved in from seaward in slow undulations. The damp condensed on the boat’s thwarts11 and her knees were beaded with moisture. The air felt strangely raw, and the measured beat of the surf rose drearily12 from the hidden beach. At intervals13 the tolling14 of a bell sounded through the noises of the sea; and when the yacht appeared, looming15 up gray and ghostly, her rigging dripped, her deck was sloppy16, and the seamen17 at the gangway had a limp, bedraggled look. Everything seemed cheerless and depressing; and Aynsley’s face was anxious as he hurried toward Jimmy.
“It was good of you to come,” he said. “I hope you’re none the worse.”
“Not much. I’m sorry your father has suffered from the trip, but I really did my best.”
“I’m sure of that,” Aynsley responded. “But he’s waiting to see you.”
He led Jimmy into a handsome teak deckhouse between the masts, and opened a door into the owner’s cabin, which occupied the full width of the house. Two electric lamps were burning, rich curtains were drawn18 across the windows to shut out the foggy light, and a fire burned cheerfully in an open-fronted stove, encased in decorated tiles. Its pipe was of polished brass19; the walls and the ceiling were enameled20 a spotless white, with the moldings of the beams picked out in harmonious21 color; two good marine22 pictures hung on the cross bulkhead. The place struck Jimmy as being strangely luxurious23 after the cramped24, damp cabin of the sloop25; but he soon forgot his surroundings when his eyes rested on the figure lying in the corner-berth26.
Clay had thrown off the coverings and was propped27 up on two large pillows. His silk pajamas28 showed the massiveness of his short neck and his powerful chest and arms; but his face was pinched and gray except where it was streaked29 with a faint purple tinge30. Jimmy could see that the man was very ill.
“I hear you got the case,” Clay began in a strained voice, motioning Jimmy to a seat.
“Yes. The others brought it up; I haven’t examined it yet.”
“You’ll find it all right.” Clay smiled weakly. “I suppose you know there’s another case and a couple of small packages still in the strong-room?”
“We understood so.”
“Get them up; they’re in the sand. You can have my diver, and it shouldn’t take you long. You’re welcome to the salvage; it isn’t worth fighting you about. After that, there will be nothing left in her. I give you my word for it, and you can clear out when you like.”
“None of us wants to stay; we have had enough. I suppose you have no idea of going down again?”
“No,” Clay answered rather grimly; “it doesn’t seem probable. I haven’t thanked you yet for bringing me up.” He turned to Aynsley. “Mr. Farquhar stuck to me when I was half conscious and helpless. I’d like you to remember that. Now I want a quiet talk with him.”
Aynsley left them, and Clay was silent for a moment or two. He lay back on the pillows with his eyes closed, and when he spoke31 it seemed to be with an effort.
“About the bogus case? What are you going to do with it?”
“We have been too busy to think of that. You spoke of an exchange, but of course we haven’t the thing here—”
“No,” said Clay. “Your partner’s pretty smart and I guess you have got it safely locked up in one of the Island ports. The chances are that you won’t be able to give it to me.”
Jimmy understood him. Clay seemed to know that he was very ill. He lay quiet again, as if it tired him to talk.
“It has been a straight fight on your side,” he resumed after his short rest. “I guess you might give that box to Osborne. You’re white men, and, though you might perhaps make trouble about it, the thing’s no use to you. You know Osborne?”
“Yes,” Jimmy answered rather awkwardly, because he saw what the question implied. Clay had judged him correctly; for Jimmy had no wish to extort32 a price for keeping a dark secret. He thought he could answer for his comrades, though he would not make a binding33 promise without their consent.
“I believe you know Ruth Osborne,” Clay went on with a searching glance at him.
Jimmy was taken off his guard, and Clay noticed his slight start and change of expression.
“I met Miss Osborne on board the Empress,” he replied cautiously.
Clay smiled.
“Well,” he said, “she’s a girl who makes an impression, and my notion is that her character matches her looks.” He paused and went on with a thoughtful air: “Anyhow, she wouldn’t have Aynsley.”
Jimmy colored. Clay’s manner was significant, but not hostile. Ill as the man was, Jimmy imagined that he was cleverly playing a game, and, with some object, was trying to turn his recent opponent into an ally. For all that, Jimmy thought his motive34 was good.
“I mustn’t keep you talking too long,” Jimmy said. He did not wish to discuss Miss Osborne.
“I soon get tired; but there’s something I must mention. You’ll clean the wreck35 out in a few hours, and then you may as well blow her up. My diver will help you, and we have some high-grade powder and a firing outfit36.”
“It might be wise. If she washed up nearer the bight she would be dangerous. The island’s charted, and I dare say vessels37 now and then run in.”
Clay looked at him with a faint twinkle.
“Yes; I think we can take it that she’s a danger. I’ll tell my man to give you the truck you want and you had better get finished while the weather’s fine.”
Moving feebly, he held out his hand in sign of dismissal, and Jimmy took it. He had no repugnance38 to doing so, but he felt that he was making his helpless enemy a promise.
Aynsley was waiting on deck and insisted on Jimmy’s staying to dinner. Although well served, it was a melancholy39 meal, and Jimmy had a sense of loneliness as he sat at the long table. Aynsley was attentive40 to his comfort and tried to make conversation, but he was obviously depressed41.
“What are your plans?” he asked.
“We start to get out the last of the gold at daybreak,” Jimmy answered. ............