I felt my senses reel. There it was . . . the red curtains tied with gold fringe, the open brick fireplace, the rocking chair, the gate-legged table and even the "Storm at Sea" hanging on the wall.
In every detail it was there—the room which had come to me so often in my dreams.
This was a nightmare. It couldn't be real. I had strayed into the dream somewhere. The dungeons, the terrible suspicions about Jago—they were all part of it. It was a new form of the dream. I should wake at any moment.
Slack was looking at me oddly.
"Slack," I stammered, "what is this room . . . ? What is this place?"
He did not seem to understand. He said soothingly: "You'll be all right here. Miss Silva were . . ."
My eyes were fixed on the door. It was that door which had been the center of the dream. It was not the one through which I had come, for there were two doors in this room. The slow moving of that door which had never opened but behind which I had subconsciously known was the reason for my fear.
I saw the door handle slowly turn. I could not take my eyes from it. The door was beginning to open.
This was it—the moment in the dream when the terrible sense of doom had come over me. I was terrified of what the opening of the door would reveal.
. Thoughts flashed in and out of my mind as they do in moments such as that one. It could only have been a matter of a few seconds, but time had slowed down. The fear had come to me . . . just as in the dream, but this was not a dream. I was now face to face with the moment of revelation. The artist! I thought. What has he to do with my life? I scarcely know him. Why should I feel this terrible fear of him?
The door opened. A man was standing on the threshold of the room. It was not the artist though. It was Rollo.
I was trembling with terror, but it was only the dream. Amazement was taking over fear. Rollo! What could Rollo possibly be doing at Blue Rock?
"Ellen!" He smiled. "How good to see you here. How did you come?"
I stammered: "I... I had no idea. ... I thought. . . the artist lived here."
"He's gone to London for a few days. He lent me his place. You look scared out of your wits. Sit down. Let me get you a drink."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so bewildered. I can't think clearly."
"Come and sit down."
Slack was staring at Rollo. I heard him whisper: "Something terrible have happened to Miss Silva."
Rollo had led me to the table and made me sit down in the chair which I had seen so many times in my dreams.
I just could not believe I was awake and this was really happening.
"You must tell me everything, Ellen," said Rollo. "What happened at the castle? The boy brought you, I see."
"We came through a kind of cave."
Rollo poured something into a glass and said: "Drink this. It will steady you. I can see you've had a shock."
He put the glass into my hand but I couldn't drink anything. I set it down on the table.
I said: "There's a tunnel from here to the castle."
He did not express any surprise. "I was concerned about you," he said. "That's why I didn't want to leave the place. I felt that something was going on there and that you needed looking after. I couldn't get that affair of the boat out of my mind."
"You think someone was trying to murder me."
He nodded. "I'm sure of it," he said.
Not Jago, I thought. I won't believe it was Jago.
"I want to get away to the mainland," I said. "For a while at least."
"Of course. I'll row you over."
"I think I'll stay at the Polcrag Inn until I've thought all this over."
"It's clear, isn't it? You're the heiress to that Island, a prosperous community. It's real wealth. People will go to great lengths for the amount of money that represents, Ellen."
I laughed weakly. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I feel so bewildered ... so lost. Everything that has happened has been so strange. I . . . the Poor Relation to be so rich. I only recently discovered all this."
"Other people knew it and they acted accordingly."
"Why are you so kind to me suddenly?"
"I'm sorry for my past conduct. In any case, you were to be a member of our family. If Philip hadn't died. . . ."
I heard those words again: "What happened in Philip Carrington's bedroom. . . ." No, Jago, I won't believe it of you. I can't.
Rollo seemed suddenly alert.
"What's happened to the boy . . . the one you brought with you?"
I looked behind me. Slack was not there.
"He must be around," I said.
Rollo went to the door. I heard him calling Slack.
Now I was in the room alone I examined it with a sort of awed wonder. I went to the window and touched the curtains. This was more vivid than the dream.
What was I going to do? I should have stayed behind and talked to Jago. I would go back to him and tell him I must know the whole truth.
My mother must have been here often, for she had re-created every detail in the room in her picture. Why had it played such a part in my dreams? I was baffled.
I had found the room but of what significance was that? I had lived through the moment of doom when the door had opened and revealed Rollo.
There was something unreal even about him—something which was different. He was not the godlike creature I had seen when we were young through the eyes of his adoring younger brother. There was something different about Rollo.
The door opened and strangely enough the old feeling of fear began to creep over me.
It was Rollo again. His face distorted with angry annoyance.
"I can't find the boy . . . the mad boy," he said. "Where can he have got to?"
"He can't have gone back to the castle."
"Why did he run off like that? What was he saying?"
"Something about Silva. She was my half sister. He was saying something terrible had happened to her."
"What did he mean?"
"I don't know."
"He's crazy, that boy."
"I don't think so. His mind works in a strange way, that's all. He has what he calls fancies and powers."
"He's an idiot," said Rollo. "You haven't had your drink. You'll feel better for it, you know."
I took it up and sipped it.
"I want to go to the mainland," I said.
"I'll take you."
I stood up.
"Finish your drink first, and I'll get the boat."
"I've left everything at the castle."
"Why did you leave in such a hurry?"
"It seemed necessary then. Now . . ."
"You regret it?"
He was smiling at me and the room seemed to be dissolving about him. I could only see his smiling face.
"Yes, I think I was too hasty. I should have waited, should have talked to Jago. ..."
My voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. Rollo continued to smile at me.
"You're growing very sleepy," he said. "My poor Ellen."
"I feel very strange. I think I'm dreaming still. This room . . ."
He nodded.
"Rollo, what's happening?"
"You're getting drowsy," he said. "It's the drink. A little sedative. You needed that—and so did I."
"You . . . Rollo?"
"Come. We're going now."
"Where?"
"To the boat. That's what you want, isn't it?"
I stood up and swayed unsteadily. He caught me.
"Now," he said, "it will be easy. Your coming like this. It couldn't have been better. Curse that boy, though."
He put an arm about me to steady me and we went out of the room and into the passage. The cold air revived me a little.
"What happened?" I cried.
I heard Rollo laugh softly. "All's well. I didn't expect such luck. It'll be over soon. Come down. . . . Down the slope to the shore."
Something warned me. The doom feeling I had known in the dream was very strong.
&n
bsp; "I don't think I want to go after all..." I heard myself say.
"Don't be obstinate. You're going."
"I want to see Jago first. Of course I must see Jago. I ought to have talked to him . . . asked him to explain."
I slid to the ground. I was lying among the bushes and I held on to these with all my strength.
"What's wrong with you?" Rollo was trying to pull me to my feet, but I clung with all my might to that bush. For a terrible realization had come to me. The dream had been right. My doom had come through that door, for my doom was Rollo.
The drink he had given me was drugged. I knew that now. This hazy sleeping feeling was meant to overcome my resistance so that he could do with me what he wanted. Why Rollo? For what possible reason could he want to kill me? He did want to. That conviction was with me strongly. Rollo had come through the door of doom and Slack . . . Slack had gone.
Even at such a time I was able to feel relief because I had been wrong about Jago. Oh, Jago, why did I run away from you? What is the answer to all this?
Rollo was dragging me away from the bush and I could retain my hold no longer. I was powerless against him and I could only delay him.
He had lifted me. "Don't struggle," he said. "It won't help you at all. It will only make me angry. Go to sleep. That's the best thing you can do."
It was rough going for him carrying me. I heard him cursing me under his breath. I could distinctly hear the waves breaking on the shore and I knew what he was going to do. For some reason it was important for him to have me out of the way and he was going to kill me. He was going to row out a little way and throw me into the sea and I should be unable to struggle because the drowsiness was increasing with every minute and I should soon be oblivious of everything.
I heard the boat scraping on the sand. He lifted me up.
A sudden flash of inspiration came to me. "It was you who tampered with the rail at Dead Man's Leap," I said.
"You've had a charmed life, Ellen . . . until now."
"Rollo, tell me why. . . why . . . what have I done to you?"
"You're in the way. That's all."
"But how. . . how. . . ? What can I mean to you?"
"Don't ask questions. Say your prayers."
"You came down here to kill me. Why?"
"I said don't ask questions."
He had put me roughly into the boat. I tried to scramble out but he was ready for me.
"Don't be a fool. I don't like violence."
"You don't mind murder," I said. "It was you . . . you who murdered Philip."
"If Philip had lived there wouldn't have been any need for this."
"Rollo, I know you are going to kill me. You owe me a little time. . . ."
"There's no time to lose. There never is," he retorted tersely.
This was the end then. I knew exactly what was going to happen. My sleepy body would receive the embrace of the sea and my heavy clothes would drag me down . . . down to oblivion.
But I was wrong. Indeed I had a charmed life—or was it that there were people to care so much for me?
There was a shout and I heard Rollo's furious exclamation. And there was Jago himself. He was on the shore, then wading out to sea. He had knocked Rollo aside and snatched me out of the boat.
"Ellen," I heard his voice through the waves of sleepiness which swept over me and I was filled with exultation. "My Ellen."
I awoke in my bedroom in the castle. It was daylight and Jago was sitting by my bed. He bent over me and kissed me.
"All's well, Ellen," he said.
"It was a dream. It was the dream. . . ."
"No, it wasn't a dream. It was very real. He went off in the boat after I'd carried you back to the house. It was a rough sea and the chances are he didn't reach the mainland."
"Jago, I'm so bewildered."
"Important things first. I love you; you love me; although I must say you didn't show it last night. I was waiting for you to come to me as you'd promised. I waited and waited. Then I searched everywhere for you. By that time Slack came back in a state of alarm. He said you were on Blue Rock and that there was a man there who intended to harm you."
"How did he know?"
"He'd seen him before."
"He came to the Island."
"Yes, he did. He had the house on Blue Rock for a week or more . . . ever since Manton went to London. The artist had let the place to him during his absence."
"So he could have tampered with the Ellen. Why . . . why did he want to kill me?"
"It's a simple reason. With you out of the way his wife would have come into a great deal of money."
"His wife."
"Silva."
"But. . .she's dead."
Jago shook his head. "It may be that she is not. In fact it's certain she isn't, otherwise his actions would be pointless. That boy Slack ... sly creature . . . pretending to be half baked all the time and knowing so much more than the rest of us!"
"Rollo wanted money. I can't believe it."
"I told you, didn't I, that their financial empire is tottering. They've seen it coming for some time. That was presumably why he married Silva. Then he discovered the contents of your father's will and that you came first. They were very ready for you to marry Philip which would have made them sure of the Kellaway fortune."
"Philip ... oh Philip! What happened to Philip? I heard. . . ."
"Yes, I know what you heard. You were in the dungeons because you'd discovered I was meeting Hawley there and you knew Hawley. You hid yourself that you might eavesdrop. Then the necklace betrayed you. Ellen, how could you doubt me?"
"I had to know. I was afraid you might have done something. . . ."
"Which would have stopped your loving me?"
"The one discovery I made was that nothing can do that."
"Then it was all worthwhile. . . . But it was a near thing. If that devil had been five minutes earlier he would have had you at sea and then God knows what would have happened."
"Tell me everything that took place."
"I've had to piece a lot of it together myself. I haven't confirmed it. But this is what it seems like to me: Your father was not sure whether or not Silva was his daughter; he strongly suspected that she was James Manton's. So did James Manton himself because he and Silva's mother had been lovers. Rollo, who was interested in art, met James Manton in London, where he was having an exhibition, and he heard from him about the Island and the Kellaways. He came down and met Silva and as she lived on the Island and he had discovered that she was the elder daughter he naturally believed that she would inherit the Island. He had heard of course that there was a younger daughter who had been taken away by her mother and in whom the father had shown no interest. The rich spoils of the Island meant that it would fetch a high price if it were sold and the Carringtons needed a very large sum to bolster up their tottering empire. So he married Silva secretly and took her to London. Your father died and Carrington then discovered that there was one who came before Silva and that was you. If you had married Philip they would have persuaded you to sell the Island and invest as they advised, which would have meant their using your money."
"And you, Jago, came to London."
"To see you. To find out what was happening. I learned that all was not well with the Carrington interests and although I did not know that Rollo Carrington had married Silva and, like everyone else, believed her dead, I understood why the family were so anxious to welcome you. You were my ward—and still are, remember—and it was my duty to look after you. I engaged a private detective to make a thorough study of the Carrington affairs. He was rather a shady character; the nature of his work had made him so. By being in the household he found out more than I ever could through other sources. I came up to London and broke into the Carrington soiree, where I met you and promptly fell in love with you."
"I must have been very attractive with the Island to come."
"You and the Far Island, Ellen, were irresistible."
&
nbsp; "The Island certainly is."
"And you yourself are not uncomely. How I loved your spirit right from the start. It was set off by that poor little Esmeralda."
"And Philip died."
"It was an accident. Poor fellow. It was a disastrous thing to have happened. Hawley was assiduously going through some papers in Philip's room when Philip disturbed him. Philip kept a pistol near his bed and he threatened Hawley with it, demanding to know what he was doing. Hawley lost his head and struggled with Philip to get the pistol away from him. It went off, alas, killing Philip. Hawley is a sharp character—very experienced in all kinds of adventures. ... He saw what trouble he was in. He very skillfully arranged it to look like suicide and got away with it."
"Jago, you didn't hire him to kill Philip?"
"Good God, no. I was horrified by his death."
"But he was going to marry me, taking the Island with me."
"I was going to try to stop that. I was going to lay before you all the information I had gathered about the Carringtons, and I had a notion that you were not exactly madly in love with Philip and were at that time questioning the wisdom of rushing into marriage. I was counting on getting you at least to postpone the wedding for a while."
"And you got Hawley to have a key cut for you."
"Yes, I did. I wanted to have a word with you on your own in that house. I was seeking every opportunity to meet you. I thought that if we met there by chance I might be able to hint at something. . . ."
"It was a crazy thing to do."
"You'll find in the years to come that I often do crazy things. You're going to love some of the crazy things I do. I'd do a great deal to get you, Ellen, but I suppose I'd stop at murder. I was so anxious about you. I didn't trust those Carringtons. Then Philip's death changed everything."
"What will happen to the Carringtons now?"
"You'll be hearing about their collapse, I daresay, in a few weeks' time. But let's not worry about them. I want to talk to you, Ellen. There's so much to plan for ... so much to say. Just think of it, Ellen . . . the two of us together on the Island."
I lay still thinking of it.
The Outcome
I married Jago a month later.
Everything was clear to me by that time. Rollo's body was found a few days after that night when I had walked into my dream room and found him there. After his encounter with Jago he had had no alternative but to put to sea and try and reach the mainland; and the sea was not in a benign mood that night. Whether he had been unable to manage the boat or not I am not sure. It may well have been that he accepted defeat, for a few weeks later the collapse of the Carrington interests was announced in the papers. It was one of the greatest financial disasters of the century. Many people had lost their money in the crash and there was talk of a prosecution which might have taken place if Rollo had lived. It was presumed that he had deliberately chosen death by drowning.
Lord of the Far Island Page 30