‘All right,’ he said, standing up. ‘There is a bigger chair here with a pull-out for the legs. I’ll pile some cushions on it and you had better have that.’
When he had arranged the chair, she rested one hand on his shoulder and pulled herself up beside him. Quietly, with no hint of seduction in her voice, she asked, ‘Do you care about me at all, John? Tell me honestly. I want to know.’
‘I can only say that in a very short time I have grown very fond of you,’ he hedged. ‘I’ve already told you that I refuse to make love to you except in the daytime.’
‘You are still afraid of me,’ she whispered, ‘but you needn’t be. The windows are lighter already, with that pale light that comes before dawn. But I still have enough shamelessness left to tell you something. I love you. You may think that is just because I’ve never been kissed by any other man. It’s not. It’s something deep inside me. I know that at night my wanton thoughts might make me easy game for anybody; but during the day, although I am shy and awkward, I long every bit as much to feel your lips on mine. I love you. I love you terribly. I’d die for you, John, if I had the chance.’
He could find no words with which to reply, and after a moment she went on, ‘Even if you are only a little fond of me, do something for me, please. Let’s lie down in the chair together. I want to feel your arms round me. You have been so gallant in the way you have protected me; but at any time my enemies may prove too much for you. We may never have this chance again. Although you can’t tell me that you love me, let me go to sleep making believe that you do.’
Gently he lowered her on to the pile of cushions, then lay down beside her and took her in his arms. She put her cheek against his, but made no attempt to kiss him. Her limbs relaxed and she gave a sigh of contentment. On a sudden impulse that overbore all his scruples, he murmured, ‘I love you, Christina. I love you,’ and drew her more closely to him.
For making love the pile of cushions on the long basket chair was quite adequate, but not for a prolonged sleep. It was too narrow, and beneath the cushions its arms dug into their backs. Dozing was all that either of them could manage, and some three hours later John kissed Christina lightly on the forehead, then got up.
He did so cautiously, as it was now full daylight; and if he showed himself above the level of the window-sills of the gazebo there was a risk that he might be seen. First he peeped out on the garden side. He could see no one in it, and the iron roller blinds of the château windows were all down. A glance at his watch showed him that it was just after half-past seven, so the lack of activity was not surprising in view of the fact that its occupants could not have got to bed much before half-past four.
Still crouching, he crossed to one of the windows overlooking the shore. That, too, presented a peaceful early morning scene, but a disappointing one. John had hoped to see there at least a few fisherfolk who, in an emergency, could be called on for help. There was not a soul to be seen and it was quite clear now that the little harbour was a strictly private one. The only craft in it were a twenty-foot sailing yacht, a sailing dinghy, a speedboat and Upson’s seaplane. The big yacht in which they had been brought there was still lying at anchor about a quarter of a mile beyond the point of the breaker. Alongside it were the launch in which they had come ashore and another more powerful vessel that looked like a converted submarine-chaser.
He was just wondering if they could get out of the garden unobserved, swim out to the speed-boat and make off in it, when the submarine-chaser cast off from the yacht and turned her nose in towards the harbour. In a graceful curve she rounded the point of the mole, reversed her engines, and manoeuvred a little until her pilot had brought her skilfully alongside its outer end. Two sailors with lines jumped ashore and she was swiftly made fast. A moment later a gangway was put out and a group of people landed from her.
Suddenly John jerked himself erect and gave a shout. ‘Christina! We’re saved! There’s Mother! I’d know that absurd hat of hers anywhere. And there’s C.B.! They’ve got the police with them. Hurrah! They must have found out where the yacht had gone, and come to rescue us.’
Christina had still been dozing. She scrambled to her feet and joined him at the window. Both of them could make out the group clearly now, as it advanced along the mole. In addition to Molly Fountain and C.B. it consisted of a very tall old man with a drooping grey moustache, and three men in uniform.
‘Come on!’ cried John. ‘Let’s go down and meet them. But how is your ankle? Is it up to walking?’
She tried her weight on it. ‘Yes, it’s much better. I’ll be all right if you give me your arm. Oh, John, what wonderful luck their coming and finding us here.’
As she spoke they turned to look at one another. It was the first time they had done so in daylight since the evening before. Neither realised what a sight they themselves presented, and grinned at the marks of battle on the other.
‘You are in a mess,’ Christina laughed. ‘Your chin’s all swollen and you have a glorious black eye.’
‘You look as if you had been dragged through a hedge backwards, yourself,’ he retorted cheerfully. ‘The sticky liquor from that bottle Jules shied at you has collected so much dirt that you’ll have to scrape it off your neck with a knife; and your hair is a veritable bird’s-nest.’
As he spoke he took the little automatic out of his pocket, and added, ‘I’ll keep this handy, just in case anyone tries to stop us between here and the gate. Come along now! Let’s go!’
When he opened the door of the gazebo the garden still appeared to be deserted; so they went down the steps to the path. On their way to the gate he said, ‘Now that the police have been brought into this we ought to be careful what we say. If I had had the wit and the chance to snatch this gun last night I have no doubt I should have shot someone with it myself; but such acts usually have repercussions. Mind, I don’t think there is the least likelihood of the Marquis bringing an action against you. He would find it much too difficult to explain away his part in the affair. I’m only a bit worried that wounding with firearms may be what is termed a crime against the state. If so, and the French police are told about it, they would have no option but to arrest you; so I think we had better skip your grand performance with the heavy armaments.’
‘Tell them what you like,’ she shrugged. ‘I was mad as a hatter at the time; so I suppose it’s lucky I didn’t kill someone; but I’m not feeling a bit like Two-gun Annie now.’
‘May be,’ he answered with a smile. ‘But it would be pretty mean of me to let them infer that I rescued you, when it was really you who rescued me. I think I’ll say –’
‘Oh, don’t be silly, John! I could never have got away without you. The less you say about my part in it, the better. They are much more likely to believe that you slew all the dragons and carried me away across your shoulder. Anyhow, I’ll leave all the talking to you.’
On reaching the gate they found that it was not locked, so they walked straight out on to the hard; and there, now only fifty feet away, were the group from the submarine-chaser.
With exclamations of surprise, followed by shouts of delight, the rescuers joined the rescued. Molly was so overcome at seeing her boy safe and sound that she dared not kiss him from fear of bursting into tears; so, much to his surprise, she shook him vigorously by the hand. With a laugh, he picked her up and hugged her. Then, in turn, she hugged Christina. C.B. introduced the tall old man as ex-Inspector Malouet, and the senior police officer as Sergeant Bouvet. The next ten minutes passed in a gabble of questions and explanations.
It emerged that they were on the island of Port Cros, the smallest of the three main islands known as the Iles d’Hyères. The de Grasses had long owned the château and a fine estate there, but otherwise it was almost uninhabited. On arriving at St Tropez, Malouet had suggested it as the most likely place for the yacht to have taken Christina, as in any public harbour along the coast the arrival of a vessel of her size would at once have been reported. After a le
ngthy discussion with the local police, he had persuaded them to cooperate by getting the customs temporarily to place at his disposal one of the fast craft they used for the prevention of smuggling. On reaching the Ile de Port Cros they had boarded the yacht with a search warrant. Her Captain had refused all information, so they had spent an hour going through her; then, having drawn blank, they had just come ashore to pursue their enquiries at the château.
John gave an abbreviated version of what had happened to him and Christina, concluding with their escape to the gazebo. When he had done, Sergeant Bouvet said: ‘It appears that Mademoiselle accepted an invitation to go aboard the yacht, and that Monsieur joined her there in an irregular manner. However, that could not excuse the treatment to which you allege that you were later subjected. Does either of you wish to make a charge? If so, I must take down your deposition in detail.’
‘Hold yourself, my son, hold yourself,’ said the elderly Malouet, patting him kindly on the shoulder. ‘Your enthusiasm does you credit, but there is more in this matter than appears on the surface. If you will permit me, I should like to talk privately with these young people before they commit themselves to any legal action.’
‘But of a certainty, Monsieur,’ replied the sergeant, and from his tone it was clear that he regarded the ex-inspector with a sentiment akin to veneration. ‘It is a privilege to have your guidance in such an affair, and you have only to make your wishes known to me.’
Malouet favoured him with a courteous little bow. ‘Since you are so kind, I suggest that we should all return to our ship. For the time being I think it would be as well if we made it as difficult as possible for anyone to trace Mademoiselle’s movements. I am, therefore, loath to take her back to St Tropez. Perhaps on your way there you could land us at some little-frequented place. Later, should it be decided that a charge is to be preferred, you may be sure that I shall lose no time in getting in touch with you.’
‘As you will, Monsieur. Let us go back on board, then. Have you as yet decided whereabouts you would like us to land you?’
For a minute or two the old man did not reply; but when they had covered about fifty paces towards the submarine-chaser he said, ‘If we take the route between the islands and the coast we must pass a little place called Cavalaire. The village is on a shallow, sandy bay, facing eastward; but it is not that I have in mind. To the south of it there is a headland, and on the headland is a small hotel called the Sur Mer. In the old days it was owned by a man named Gandini and was famous for its good food, as he was once a maître d’hôtel at the Negresco. He has long since sold it, but it has a private bay on which we could be landed from a boat.’
‘I know it!’ The sergeant waved an airy hand. ‘You are as good as there already, Monsieur. A perfect spot to go ashore discreetly, observed only by a handful of people. So early in the year I doubt if even the hotel itself will be open.’
‘I had rather hoped it would,’ Malouet confessed, ‘as I am beginning to feel the need for my petit déjeuner. But if it is not, we can walk down to the village, hire a car there, and drive to some other small place for a meal, before progressing further.’
Ten minutes later they were on board and the vessel had cast off. Having installed Molly, Christina, Monsieur Malouet, C.B., and John in the after-cabin, Sergeant Bouvet tactfully withdrew; so they were able to talk more freely.
Rounding the western point of the Ile de Port Cros, they left the much larger Ile de Porquerolles on their left, and headed in towards Cap Benat on the mainland. Meanwhile, John and Christina gave the old walrus-moustached ex-inspector a more detailed account of what had happened to them during the night, suppressing only Christina’s hectic performance with the gun. Then Malouet asked her to tell him of her earlier meetings with the de Grasses, and anything else she could remember having a possible bearing on her case that had occurred since she had come to the South of France, and she did so while the low-throbbing craft carried them swiftly across the bay towards Le Lavendou.
Although it was still only the first week in March, no cold or boisterous wind disturbed the serenity of their short voyage. The sun was shining in an almost cloudless sky of pale blue, and its rays could already be felt, promising another day of pleasant warmth. The sea still held the greeny-blueness of early morning, but its surface was unruffled by white horses and the wave crests were hardly perceptible except where they creamed upon the rocks along the shore. Behind them lay the Iles d’Hyères, now holding the suggestion of romance that always attaches to green islands set at a distance in a sparkling sea. Ahead rose up the indented coast of the mainland, with its rocky foreshore, verdant slopes and background of snow-topped mountains.
The twenty miles was soon covered and by half-past eight the ex-submarine-chaser was nosing her way into a small bay with rugged cliffs on either hand. A dinghy was lowered, Sergeant Bouvet and the captain of the vessel were taken leave of with warm thanks for their help, and the shore party were landed on a flat shelf of rock at the foot of the right-hand promontory, from which visitors to the hotel bathed in summer.
Slowly they made their way up the rough, steep path to the hotel. It was a small two-storey building, having only a dozen bedrooms and a single salon, the whole length of its ground floor on the seaward side being devoted to a covered terrace which served as its restaurant. It had not yet been opened for the season, but the proprietor and his wife readily agreed to provide breakfast for their unexpected visitors. A small boy was despatched on a bicycle to buy croissants in the village, ‘Monsieur’ set about his preparations for making a big ham omelette, and ‘Madame’ showed her guests up to five bedrooms that had fixed basins, so that they could freshen themselves up after their night out.
John was still in his shirt-sleeves, putting the finishing touches to his hair with a borrowed comb, when there came a gentle knock on the door of the room he had been given. On his calling, ‘Come in,’ Christina limped in and closed the door behind her.
She held out her left hand. The middle of the engagement finger was covered with a thick lather, and she said, ‘I’ve come for you to get your ring off. The knuckle is still a bit swollen, but I think you will be able to wriggle it over now I’ve made it slippery with soap.’
‘Why do you want to take it off?’ he asked in surprise.
‘You said you would this morning. You promised to just after you had had your fight with Jules in the cabin of the yacht.’
‘I wasn’t speaking seriously. I said that only to pacify you at the time. You know how different you become from your real self at night.’
She coloured, looked quickly away from him, and stammered, ‘I … I’d rather not talk about last night. I mean about … about what occurred between us. Although my memory of it is a bit blurred now, I know that I behaved abominably. I feel terribly ashamed.’
‘You needn’t be.’ He smiled, cutting her short. ‘You were really very sweet once we had settled down in the summer-house.’
‘It was you who were sweet to me. You said you loved me, and I shall never forget that.’ Her words came out in a rush now. ‘I know you don’t really, and that you probably said it only to comfort me, but please don’t admit it, or protest that you do, out of kindness. You see, you may have really meant it just for that brief time. Anyhow, I’d like to believe so, because it will be a lovely memory to take away with me.’
‘Take away!’ he echoed. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
She extended her hand again. ‘That is why I want you to have back your ring. I’ll have no more use for it now, even for make-believe. I thought it all out while we were dozing early this morning. I have repaid your mother’s kindness by causing her a night of desperate anxiety about you, and I brought you into a situation where you might have lost your life, or anyhow have been seriously injured. That isn’t right. This horrible affair is a matter for myself and my father. If anyone is responsible for me, it is he; so I have decided that the time has come when I must disobey his orders.
I am going back to join him in England.’
Chapter 13
Prison for one
‘You can’t do that,’ John said quickly. ‘He brought you out here to keep you out of danger.’
Christina nodded. ‘I know that was his idea; but it has failed. The danger has caught up with me just the same. As soon as our secret enemies discovered my hiding-place his plan broke down; so there is no point in my staying here any longer.’
‘Oh, yes there is. For some reason we can’t yet guess at, they want to get you back to England. To go there would be to play into their hands.’
‘You may be right about that, but there is a chance that when Father knows what has happened he may be able to think of a new plan to foil them. Anyhow, I have caused your mother and you more than enough trouble already. You’ve both been wonderful to me; but I can’t let things go on like this. If Father is in no position to help me I’ll go into hiding somewhere and face what is coming on my own.’
‘No you won’t! I won’t let you.’
‘John, I’ve made up my mind about this, and I am in my right senses now. Please take off your ring.’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing doing, my dear. While you were distraught last night you declared that it bound you to me. As far as you are concerned I am on the side of the angels, and if you felt that so strongly even in the dark hours, it is a symbol that you cannot yet afford to do without. So you are going to stay bound to me until we have seen this business through. Afterwards you can give it back to me if you like.’
‘All right then,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll keep your ring. But that doesn’t alter what I said about going back to England.’
‘We’ll talk about that over breakfast,’ he hedged. Then with a sudden grin he held out his arms. ‘In the meantime you continue to be my fiancée; so come and give me a kiss.’
Her big brown eyes were full of tears as she put up her hands, took his face between them, and said, ‘Very well then; but this is goodbye.’
To the Devil, a Daughter Page 19