CHAPTER XXVII
LOVE BREAKS SILENCE
West was so immersed in his own thoughts, awakened by these newdevelopments, he apparently did not hear what the girl said. She reachedout and pressed his arm.
"Do you not see, Captain West? Daylight is coming; it is much lighterover there."
He lifted his head, and looked where she pointed. A dull, grey lighttopped the waters, and the sky above held a faint tinge of crimson. Thewan glow accented the loneliness, and for the moment left him depressed.Was there ever a more sombre scene than was presented by that waste oftumbling waves, stretching to the horizon, arched over by a clouded sky?It grew clearer, more distinct, yet remained the same dead expanse ofrestless water, on which they tossed helplessly and alone. Nothing brokethe grimness of it, not even a bird in the air, or a leaping fish;complete desolation met the eye in every direction, a threatening,menacing dreariness amid which each approaching swell seemed about tosweep them to destruction. The wind increased slightly with the dawn,buffeting the frail raft to which they clung desperately, and showeringthem with spray, while, as the light became stronger, they searchedvainly for any sign of ship, or shadow of land. Nothing appeared withinrange of vision to break the drear monotony of grey sea and sky. Neitherfelt any desire to speak; they could only stare out silently across thedesolation of waters, feeling their helplessness and peril. This then wasthe morning they had struggled forward to--this green, grey monster,whose dripping jaws showered wet foam over them; this terriblenothingness which promised death.
Her head sank forward into her hands, as though she would thus shut outthe whole weird picture, and West, aroused by the slight movement,glanced quickly aside. The sight of her distress gave him instant masteryover his own depression. His hand sought her own, where it gripped forsupport, and closed over it warmly.
"It cannot be as bad as it seems," he insisted, trying to say the wordscheerfully. "I know these waters, and they are never long deserted. Luckwill change surely; perhaps within the hour we shall be picked up, andcan laugh at all this experience."
She lifted her head, and their eyes met frankly.
"I am not afraid," she protested. "Not physically, at least. Truly I havenot felt fear since you joined me, Captain West. Before that I was alone,and was frightened because I could not in the least understand why I wasbeing held a prisoner, or what my fate was to be. Now all I must meet isthe danger of the sea, with you to share the peril with me."
"But you are very tired?"
"Perhaps so, yet I have not thought about that. There are other things;you do not believe in me."
"Why say that?" he asked, in astonishment. "There is no question of thekind between us now."
"Truly, is there not? There has been, however; I know from the way youspoke. What was it you believed of me--that--that I was part of thisconspiracy?"
"I do not know what I believed, if I actually believed anything, MissNatalie," he explained rather lamely. "I cannot make the situationaltogether clear even to myself. You see I kept meeting and talking withyou--or I thought I did--and yet never found you to be the same. I wasall at sea, unable to get anything straight. One moment I was convincedof your innocence; the next something occurred to make you appear guilty,a co-conspirator with Jim Hobart. Under the circumstances, you cannotcondemn me justly."
"Condemn! I do not. How could I? You must have kept faith in menevertheless, or you would never be here now. That is what seemsmarvellous to me--that you actually cared enough to believe."
"I realize now that I have," he said gravely. "Through it all I have kepta very large measure of faith in you."
"Why should that faith have survived?" she questioned persistently, asthough doubt would not wholly leave her mind, "we had no time to reallyknow each other; only a few hours at the most, and even then you musthave deemed me a strange girl to ask of you what I did. Surely there wasnever a madder story told than the one I told you, and I couldn't haveproven an item of it."
"Yet it has shown itself true," he interrupted.
"You actually believe then that there is another woman--a counterfeitof myself?"
"It is the only theory feasible; you have convinced me of that."
"Yet this does not answer my question altogether. You are convinced now,perhaps, because you accept my word, but how have you kept faith in mewhen you believed just as strongly that it was actually I who met andtalked with you? I who was playing in the game with the man Hobart?"
"Will you believe what I say?"
"Implicitly."
"Perhaps it sounds like a fairy tale," he spoke frankly, his eyes seekingher own, all their surroundings forgotten in the eagerness of the moment,"but I will tell you the exact truth. Before this misunderstandingoccurred you had confided in me, trusted me, although I was a strangerand I believed absolutely in your story. I had that basis to rest on. Inaddition to this, those few hours I passed at 'Fairlawn' served toconfirm my faith. I got hold of various odds and ends of evidence whichconvinced me that something was wrong--that you were actually beingconspired against. I even gained a suspicion that Percival Coolidge wasthe actual leader of the conspiracy."
"Percival Coolidge! but why? What could he gain by such a crime?"
"I have not found the answer yet, but my conviction remainsstrong--stronger, indeed, than ever since our talk last night. You couldnever have been made prisoner in that cottage without his connivance; hemust have lured you there for that particular purpose, so that this othergirl could take your place without danger of discovery. It was a neattrick, so well done as to even deceive me. The reason for Percival'sparticipation is only a guess, but my theory is the fellow had so juggledyour fortune, and the time for final accounting was so near, he had totake a desperate chance in order to save himself."
"You mean the opportunity came, and he could not resist?"
"Perhaps so, and perhaps it was his own deliberate plan. That remains tobe discovered. My own theory is that when Hobart learned what PercivalCoolidge proposed doing, his own criminal tendencies told him that herewas some easy money. The girl was undoubtedly wholly under his control;some denizen of the underworld probably. She had already played her partsufficiently well to convince Hobart of success. Why then, shouldn't hehave this money instead of Percival? There was no reason except thatPercival was in the way. That was why he was killed."
"By Hobart?"
"He may not have fired the shot, but I have no doubt he inspired it; andthe job was so expertly done the coroner called it suicide. The way wasopen; you were a prisoner, and the false Natalie Coolidge safelyinstalled as mistress of 'Fairlawn.' No one apparently suspectedanything wrong."
"And," she questioned breathlessly, "the man meant to murder me also?"
"Not at that time in my judgment," West answered thoughtfully. "Such anadditional crime was not a part of the original plan. There was noapparent necessity. Your estate was about to be settled finally, andgiven over to your control in accordance with the terms of your father'swill. Hobart must have known all this from Percival Coolidge, and exactlywhat steps must be taken to secure it. Once the money, and otherproperty, were delivered to the fake Natalie, the cashing in and get awaywould be easy; even the identity of the thieves would be concealed.Killing you was not at all necessary to the success of their scheme."
"But they did try to kill me."
"Yes, later, by the sinking of the yacht. Probably I am largelyresponsible for that."
"You?"
"Yes; the persistency with which I stuck to the trail. They becamefrightened. My appearance in Wray Street must have been quite a shock,and when I succeeded in escaping from their trap there, Hobart veryevidently lost his head completely. He did not dare risk my ever findingyou. The knowledge that I was free, perhaps in communication with thepolice, led to your night trip to the _Seminole_, and the secret sinkingof the yacht. He had gone too far by then to hesitate at another murder."
She waited breathlessly for him to go on, her eyes on the tumbling wasteo
f water. He remained quiet, motionless, and she turned toward himexpectantly.
"I--I think I understand now," she admitted, "how all this occurred; butwhy--why were you so persistent? There--there must have been a reasonmore impelling than a vague suspicion?"
"There was--the most compelling impulse in the world."
"You mean faith in me?"
"Even more than that; love for you. Natalie, listen; what I have to saymay sound strange, cruel even under such conditions as now surround us,but you force me to say them. I love you, have loved you all the time,without fully realizing exactly what it meant. There have been times whenI have doubted you, when I could not wholly escape the evidence that youwere also concerned personally in this fraud. I have endeavoured towithdraw from the case, to forget, and blot everything from memory. Butsomething stronger than will prevented; I could not desert you; could notbelieve you were wilfully wrong. You understand what I mean."
"Yes," the words barely reaching him. "It was the other girl; sheundermined your faith."
"That is the truth; yet how could it be, do you suppose? My very loveshould have enabled me to detect the difference. I can see now, thinkingback, where the fraud was even apparent--in mood, temper, action--and yetat the time these made no such impression. Even Sexton never questionedher identity; in face, figure, dress the resemblance was absolutelyperfect. Good heavens, but she is an actress!"
She touched his arm with her hand, and under the slight pressure helooked aside at her.
"You know now," she said softly, "and I know. All this is passed and gonebetween us. We are here alone, the sport of the waves, and I have noreason to be other than frank. I believe in you, Matthew West; in yourhonesty and manhood. You say you love me?"
"With all my heart and soul; it seems to me now I have always lovedyou--you came to me, the lady of my dreams."
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, yet she smiled back into his face,her voice trembling as she answered.
"And I," she said slowly, "have had no thought but of you since ourmorning in the garden together. How far away that seems."
"You mean you love me?"
"Yes; I love you; there is no word stronger, but I would speak it--isthat not enough?"
He held her in his arms, in spite of the trembling raft, tossed by theswell of the sea, and crushed her against him in the ardent strain ofpassion. An instant she held her head back, her eyes gazing straight intohis; then, with sigh of content, yielded, and their lips met, and clung.
The very silence aroused them, startled both into a swift realization ofthat dreary waste in which they floated helplessly alone, a drifting chipon the face of the waters. Her eyes swept the crest of the waves, and shewithdrew herself partially from his arms.
"Why, we must be crazed to dream of happiness here," she exclaimed. "Wasthere ever before so strange a confession of love? I am trying to bebrave--but--but that is too much; that waste of green water, with thegrey sky overhead. There is no ending to it--just death mocking us inevery wave. Oh, Matthew, can this be all? Only this little moment, andthen--the end?"
He held her hands tightly, his heart throbbing, but his courage andhope high.
"No, dear," he whispered eagerly. "Don't think that for a moment. We havepassed through too much to dream of such an ending now. There will beships--there must be. Look! what is that, yonder against the sky-line? Itis, sweet-heart; it is the smoke of a steamer."
The Case and the Girl Page 27
