Jeanne of the Marshes

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XII

  The man who stood with a telescope glued to his eye watching the comingboat, shut it up at last with a little snap. He walked round to theother side of the cottage, where Andrew was sitting with a pipe in hismouth industriously mending a fishing net.

  "Andrew," he said, "there are some people coming here, and I am almostsure that they mean to land."

  Andrew rose to his feet and strolled round to the little stretch ofbeach in front of the cottage. When he saw who it was who approached,he stopped short and took his pipe from his mouth.

  "By Jove, it's Cecil," he exclaimed, "and his friends!"

  His companion nodded. He was a man still on the youthful side of middleage, with bronzed features, and short, closely-cut beard. He lookedwhat he was, a traveller and a sportsman.

  "So I imagined," he said, "but I don't see Ronald there."

  Andrew shaded his eyes with his hand.

  "No!" he said. "There is the Princess and Cecil, and Major Forrest andMiss Le Mesurier. No one else. They certainly do look as though theywere going to land here."

  "Why not?" the other man remarked. "Why shouldn't Cecil come to visithis hermit brother?"

  Andrew frowned.

  "Berners," he said, "I want you to remember this. If they land here andyou see anything of them, will you have the goodness to understand thatI am Mr. Andrew, fisherman, and that you are my lodger?"

  Andrew's companion looked at him in surprise.

  "What sort of a game is this, Andrew?" he asked.

  Andrew de la Borne shrugged his shoulders and smiled good-naturedly.

  "Never mind about that, Dick," he answered. "Call it a whim or anythingelse you like. The fact is that Cecil had some guests coming whom I didnot particularly care to meet, and who certainly would not have beeninterested in me. I thought it would be best to clear out altogether,so I have left Cecil in possession of the Hall, and they don't evenknow that I exist."

  The man named Berners looked up at his host with twinkling eyes.

  "Right!" he said. "So far as I am concerned, you shall be Mr. Andrew,fisherman. Will you also kindly remember that if any curiosity isevinced as to my identity, I am Mr. Berners, and that I am here for arest-cure. By the by, how are you going to explain that elderlydomestic of yours?"

  "He is your servant, of course," Andrew answered. "He understands theposition. I have spoken to him already. Yes, they are coming here rightenough! Suppose you help me to pull in the boat for them."

  The two men sauntered down to the shelving beach. The boat was close tothem now, and Cecil was standing up in the bows.

  "We want to land for a few minutes," he called out.

  "Throw a rope, then," Andrew answered briefly. "You had better come inthis side of the landing-stage."

  The rope was thrown, and the boat dragged high and dry upon the pebblybeach. The Princess, after a glance at him through her lorgnette,surrendered herself willingly to Andrew's outstretched hands.

  "I am quite sure," she said, "that you will not let me fall. You mustbe the wonderful person whom my daughter has told me about. Is thisqueer little place really your home?"

  "I live here," Andrew de la Borne said simply.

  Jeanne leaned over towards him.

  "Won't you please help me, Mr. Andrew?" she said, smiling down at him.

  He held out his arms, and she sprang lightly to the ground.

  "I hope you don't mind our coming," she said to him. "I was so anxiousto see your cottage."

  "There is little enough to see," Andrew answered, "but you are verywelcome."

  "We are sorry to trouble you," Cecil said, a little uneasily, "butwould it be possible to give these ladies some tea?"

  "Certainly," Andrew answered. "I will go and get it ready."

  "Oh, what fun!" Jeanne declared. "I am coming to help. Please, Mr.Andrew, do let me help. I am sure I could make tea."

  "It is not necessary, thank you," Andrew answered. "I have a lodger whohas brought his own servant. As it happens he was just preparing sometea for us. If you will come round to the other side, where it is alittle more sheltered, I will bring you some chairs."

  They moved across the grass-grown little stretch of sand. The Princesspeered curiously at Berners.

  "Your face," she remarked, "seems quite familiar to me."

  Berners did not for the moment answer her. He was looking towardsForrest, who was busy lighting a cigarette.

  "I am afraid, madam," he said, after a slight pause, "that I cannotclaim the honour of having met you."

  The Princess was not altogether satisfied. Jeanne had gone on withAndrew, and she followed slowly walking with Berners.

  "I have such a good memory for faces," she remarked, "and I am veryseldom mistaken."

  "I am afraid," Berners said, "that this must be one of those rareoccasions. If you will allow me I will go and help Andrew bring outsome seats."

  He disappeared into the cottage, and came out again almost directlywith a couple of chairs. This time he met Forrest's direct gaze, andthe two men stood for a moment or two looking at one another. Forrestturned uneasily away.

  "Who the devil is that chap?" he whispered to Cecil. "I'll swear I'veseen him somewhere."

  "Very likely," Cecil answered wearily, throwing himself down on theturf. "I've no memory for faces."

  Jeanne had stepped into the cottage, and gave a little cry of delightas she found herself in a small sitting-room, the walls of which werelined with books and guns and fishing-tackle.

  "What a delightful room, Mr. Andrew!" she exclaimed. "Why--"

  She paused and looked up at him, a little mystified.

  "Do the fishermen in Norfolk read Shakespeare and Keats?" she asked."And French books, too, De Maupassant and De Musset?"

  "They are my lodger's," Andrew answered. "This is his room. I sit inthe kitchen when I am at home."

  His dialect was more marked than ever, and his answer had beendelivered without any hesitation. Nevertheless, Jeanne was still alittle puzzled.

  "May I come into the kitchen, please?" she asked.

  "Certainly," he answered. "You will find Mr. Berners' servant theregetting tea ready."

  Jeanne peeped in, and looked back at Andrew, who was standing behindher.

  "What a lovely stone floor!" she exclaimed. "And your copper kettle,too, is delightful! Do you mean that when you have not a lodger here,you cook and do everything for yourself?"

  "There are times," he answered composedly, "when I have a littleassistance. It depends upon whether the fishing season has been good."

  Berners came in, and threw himself into an easychair in thesitting-room.

  "Make what use you like of my man, Andrew," he said. "I will have a cupof tea in here afterwards."

  "I'm very much obliged, sir," Andrew answered.

  The Princess called out to him, and he stepped back once more to wherethey were all sitting.

  "It is a shame," she said, "that we drive your lodger away from hisseat. Will you not ask him to take tea with us?"

  "I am afraid," Andrew answered, "that he is not a very sociable person.He has come down here because he wants a complete rest, and he does notspeak to any one unless he is obliged. He has just asked me to have histea sent into his room."

  "Where does he come from, this strange man?" the Princess asked. "It isall the time in my mind that I have met him somewhere. I am sure thathe is one of us."

  "I believe that he lives in London," Andrew answered, "and his name isBerners, Mr. Richard Berners."

  "I do not seem to remember the name," the Princess remarked, "but theman's face worries me. What a delightful looking tea-tray! Mr. Andrew,you must really sit down with us. We ought to apologize for taking youby storm like this, and I have not thanked you yet for being so kind tomy daughter." Andrew stepped back toward the cottage with a firmrefusal upon his lips, but Jeanne's hand suddenly rested upon the armof his coarse blue jersey.

  "If you please, Mr. Andrew," she begged, "I want you to sit
by me andtell me how you came to live in so strange a place. Do you really notmind the solitude?"

  Andrew looked down at her for a moment without answering. For the firsttime, perhaps, he realized the charm of her pale expressive face withits rapid changes, and the soft insistent fire of her beautiful eyes.He hesitated for a moment and then remained where he was, leaningagainst the flag-staff.

  "It is very good of you, miss," he said. "As to why I came to livehere, I do so simply because the house belongs to me. It was myfather's and his father's. We folk who live in the country make fewchanges."

  She looked at him curiously. The men whom she had known, even those ofthe class to whom he might be supposed to belong, were all in a waydifferent. This man talked only when he was obliged. All the time shefelt in him the attraction of the unknown. He answered her questionsand remarks in words, the rest remained unspoken. She looked at himcontemplatively as he stood by her side with a tea-cup in his hand,leaning still a little against the flag-staff. Notwithstanding hisrough clothes and heavy fisherman's boots, there was nothing about hisattitude or his speech, save in its dialect, to denote the fact that hewas of a different order from that in which she had been brought up.She felt an immense curiosity concerning him, and she felt, too, thatit would probably never be gratified. Most men were her slaves from themoment she smiled upon them. This one she fancied seemed a little boredby her presence. He did not even seem to be thinking about her. He waswatching steadily and with somewhat bent eyebrows Cecil de la Borne andForrest. Something struck her as she looked from one to the other.

  "I read once," she remarked, "that people who live in a very smallvillage for generation after generation grow to look like one another.In a certain way I cannot conceive two men more unlike, and yet at thatmoment there was something in your face which reminded me of Mr. De laBorne."

  He looked down at her with a quick frown. Decidedly he was annoyed.

  "You are certainly the first," he said drily, "who has ever discoveredthe likeness, if there is any."

  "It does not amount to a likeness," she answered, "and you need notlook so angry. Mr. De la Borne is considered very good-looking. Dearme, what a nuisance! Do you see? We are going!"

  Andrew de la Borne took the cup from her hand and helped to prepare theboat. With a faint smile upon his lips he heard a little colloquybetween Cecil and the Princess which amused him. The Princess, as heprepared to hand her into the boat, showed herself at any ratepossessed of the instincts of her order. She held out her hand andsmiled sweetly upon Andrew.

  "We are so much obliged to you for your delightful tea, Mr. Andrew,"she said. "I hope that next time my daughter goes wandering about indangerous places you may be there to look after her."

  Andrew looked swiftly away towards Jeanne. Somehow or other thePrincess' words seemed to come to him at that moment charged with somesecondary meaning. He felt instinctively that notwithstanding herthoroughly advanced airs, Jeanne was little more than a child ascompared with these people. She met his eyes with one of her mostdelightful smiles.

  "Some day, I hope," she said, "that you will take me out in the puntagain. I can assure you that I quite enjoyed being rescued."

  The little party sailed away, Cecil with an obvious air of relief.Andrew turned slowly round, and met his friend issuing from the door ofthe cottage.

  "Andrew," he said, "no wonder you did not care about being host to sucha crowd!"

  There was meaning in his tone, and Andrew looked at him thoughtfully.

  "Do you know--anything definite?" he asked.

  Berners nodded.

  "About one of them," he said, "I certainly do. I wonder what on earthhas become of Ronald. He was with them yesterday."

  "Had enough, perhaps," Andrew suggested.

  Berners shook his head.

  "I am afraid not," he answered slowly. "I wish I could think that hehad so much sense."