me in that moment the world seemed to end. I had plucked this girl from a placid, unruffled existence and plunged her into a vortex of adventure. Was she to leave her life, laid down for mine, in this desolate island, while I, the author of all the mischief, was to escape unharmed?
Lawless was at Clubfoot's throat, worrying him like a terrier with a rat. Then, of a sudden, Carstairs and Mackay were there, twisting together with a leathern thong those great hairy wrists, one of which dripped blood. I stood helpless, watching as in a dream Garth raise up his daughter and rock her still form in his arms. In her right hand she still clasped my automatic with which she had saved my life.
There was a shrill cry from the entrance of the hollow. With skirts flying Yvonne, Marjorie's French maid, darted in. “O, ma chérie! Ma chérie!” she moaned, as with the tears rolling down her face, she dropped to her knees by the girl's side. Now Garth was holding a flask to his daughter's lips. Presently, to my unspeakable relief, she stirred slightly, then opened her eyes.
“I'm all right,” she murmured, “quite all right really! Ah! Yvonne!”
And she closed her eyes again.
Garth stood up, a tall and commanding figure of a man in his spotless white drill, and looked at me, tatterdermalion that I was, with a four days' growth of beard and unkempt hair, my clothes torn and stained, my boots gashed almost to ribbons by those cruel rocks.
“Is she ... is she ... wounded?” I faltered.
The baronet shook his head and gulped.
“She's only fainted,” he replied. “My poor, poor lass...”
Then, swallowing his feelings, he demanded fiercely:
“Where is this man, Custrin?”
“Dead,” I answered. “I shot him...”
What had happened in the forest had seemed natural enough. But with the Naomi civilization had returned to Cock Island, and my admission sounded horribly cold-blooded in my ears. As briefly as might be, but without concealing any salient fact, I told Garth the story of what had supervened after his departure with Carstairs. With ill-concealed impatience and with reddening cheeks, he listened to my tale; but he grew too angry to hear me to the end. When I told him how I had come upon Marjorie in the room behind the galley, he burst out in fury:
“So this is the end of your wild-goose chase! My little girl, alone and unprotected, in the hands of these savages! By God, Major Okewood, if any harm has come to her through your doing...”
“When I asked your help to get to Cock Island, Sir Alexander,” I answered, “I had no means of knowing where this adventure would lead us. Nor had I any suspicion that I would, that I could be followed. Otherwise I should never...”
He cut me short with an angry gesture of the hand.
“I don't want to hear any more. It is no thanks to you that my poor girl has not lost her life through your reckless folly. I had my doubts all along as to how far I could trust myself to your judgment. If I had had any idea that you and that blackguardly doctor, between you, would have dragged my little girl into it...”
This was too much, even from a distraught parent.
“It was none of my doing that Miss Garth came ashore,” I retorted hotly. “And as for Custrin, it was you who unhesitatingly accepted him at face value. You even suggested that he should join our expedition...”
“But for you, Custrin would never have come on board. You'll not contest that, I suppose? I wish to Heaven the Naomi had never seen you...”
“I can only say how very deeply I regret the terrible experience Miss Garth had to undergo—” I began.
But he only snorted.
“I don't want to hear any more from you!” he retorted, and walked away.
I was keenly aware of the hostile atmosphere he radiated and it added to my utter sense of forlornness. But Lawless was speaking to me, as I stood dumbfounded, clapping me on the back, asking me if I were all right.
“The gang's hooked it,” he chuckled. “With the report of the Naomi's gun they must have just bolted off to their launch in Sturt Bay, way across the island, leaving their skipper to his fate. A dangerous man, that, Major! We saw the launch crossing the bar and heading for the open sea. Sir Alexander was all for going after 'em. But I told him it was no good. A seagoing submarine chaser like that craft of theirs has got the legs of anything the old Naomi can put up...”
Then he told me of the immense surprise which the appearance of the launch had occasioned on board the yacht as she lay off Alcedo Rock.