Tom Tiddler's Island, стр. 3
“What a lovely place,” Jean cried, enthusiastically. “I am going to enjoy it, every bit of it. What’s that gorgeous stretch of blue, there?”
“That iss an experiment of Mr. Craigmore’s, mem,” Dinnet explained. “He is wanting to clear that slope of heather, and he iss planting wild lupins to fight down the heather and make the ground fit for good grass. It has been quite a success, so far, mem.”
Colin’s attention had been attracted by something nearer at hand.
“Nasty skerry, this, that we’re coming to.” Dinnet nodded.
“It iss, indeed, a nasty skerry, as you say, sir. It lies just off the bay where we land, and in rough weather the passage iss rather difficult. In fact, I do not care to try it with this little boat if the wind gets up. It iss safer not to.” He pointed to one black fang of rock which rose abruptly within the horns of the little bay for which they were heading.
“One of the galleons of the Great Armada was wrecked on the ‘Wolf’s Tooth,’ there, sir. Mr. Craigmore brought divers, a while back, and made an investigation of the spot. They found two cannon-balls and the gold hilt of a sword wedged in the rocks. You will see them up in Wester Voe now, sir. But that was all they got for their trouble. And once I picked up a gold coin on the beach myself, washed in by the tide after a big storm.”
“Nasty place,” Colin pursued. “You’ll need to give me the sailing-marks some time, if I’m to take the boat in and out easily.”
“I shall be very pleased to do it, sir, any time you wish,” Dinnet agreed readily. Then, seeing that Jean was still admiring the house, he volunteered further information. “Wester Voe, mem, was built on the site of an old castle that used to stand there a long while ago. Over yonder, on the other side of the bay, you can see Heather Lodge. Mr. Craigmore has rented it to Mr. Arrow, just now, as I was telling you.”
“How do they get their supplies in?” demanded the practical Colin. “Got a motor-boat of their own, or do you help them out?”
Dinnet shook his head.
“No, sir. They have just that little pleasure-boat you see there on the beach. A big motorboat calls in now and again, and brings them supplies from the mainland. And they buy some of our mutton.”
He volunteered no further information, and Colin felt a suspicion that Dinnet did not altogether approve of the company at Heather Lodge. Something in the man’s manner suggested that, without leaving anything definite to fasten upon.
Jean reluctantly took her eyes from the house and examined the cove which they were now entering.
“This is just perfect, Colin,” she declared. “Look at that sand. And that pier to dive from. Is it deep?” she demanded, turning to Dinnet.
“You can dive from the end of the pier at any time, mem. The beach shelves very sharply. And it iss sand for a long way out and not many weeds.”
“Just think of it, Colin. Undress in the house; a run down through these lively lupins; a dip; and a perfect beach for sun-bathing afterwards. Three weeks of it will turn me mahogany colour, and I’ve often wanted to see what I’d look like then.”
Dinnet shut off the engine while there was sufficient way on the boat to bring her alongside the steps of the pier. Colin jumped out and helped his wife to land. She ran quickly up the little stair and stood on the pier-head, looking round eagerly at her new surroundings.
On the other side of the cove lay a trim little pleasure-boat with bright cushions in the stem. Nearer the pier was a long concrete slip with rollers and tackle, evidently used for pulling the motor-boat up on the beach out of range in stormy weather. From the shore end of the pier a flight of rude steps led upward to the path through the lupin field, and so to Wester Voe. Seaward there was clear water for a space, and then the black serrations of the skerry pushed above the surface, whilst here and there faint disturbances of the texture showed the presence of submerged reefs.
“If you will just go on to the house, mem,” Dinnet’s voice suggested, “I will bring up the suit-cases immediately. Mrs. Dinnet will have seen the boat come in. She will be ready to show you over the house.”
“Come on, then, Colin. I’m just dying to see if the inside’s as nice as the outside. And I want to have a look at the garden too.”
Followed by her husband, she ran lightly up the rude stairway and emerged on the gentle slope which led to Wester Voe.
“Look at these lupins, Colin. Did you ever see such a stretch of colour? I’ve never seen anything like it before. Isn’t it lovely we’re to have it all to ourselves for the next month or so?”
“Sure you won’t find it a bit dull?” Colin inquired, with a shade of doubt in his tone.
“With you, darling?” Jean returned in a tone which was only half ironical. “No, not a bit of it. You know, Colin, I’ve just loved these last three weeks, every second of them; but I was beginning to get enough of it all. These big hotels, and the crowds of new people, and the everlasting chatter and noise, and the continual shifting from one place to another, and the feeling that nobody there had any roots, somehow, and that we hadn’t any root either. We were just birds of passage like the rest, and nobody cared tuppence about us except the