Tom Tiddler's Island, стр. 58
Colin’s anger was of the kind which flares up and betrays itself on the surface. Northfleet was of the more dangerous type, which grows cooler as its rage increases. He read the missive without a quiver, stooped to reward the dog with a pat, and then, ignoring Leven and the mercenary, turned to Colin.
“Of course Jean didn’t know Wenlock was about. When she saw him shot she must have imagined it was you, coming back from your walk, that they had intercepted. Better relieve her mind at once?”
“How?” Colin demanded uncomprehendingly. “If they’re patrolling about the house nobody can get near enough to give a message.” Northfleet picked up the paper and pointed to the last incoherent part of it.
“Don’t you see what she means? There’s electric light in the room, and the window faces this way. I taught her Morse. She means to send flash-signals, obviously. She’s kept her head through it all.”
Colin’s emotions had prevented him from analysing the message so minutely. A general impression was all that he had drawn from it. But Northfleet’s coolness had its reaction upon him, and he even drew some encouragement from it. Northfleet and he were in the same boat: Hazel was in the same danger as Jean. And then, by a curious trick of memory, he heard a mental echo of Jean’s own verdict on Northfleet: “He looks so—well, so dependable.” It was something, on this damned island, to have somebody on whom one could rely.
Northfleet had turned to Leven.
“There’s some room upstairs that looks towards Wester Voe? Show me it.”
Leven evidently disdained to act as guide.
“Take them up, Beeston,” he ordered.
“I want a lamp too,” Northfleet said.
The assistant brought an incandescent paraffin lamp from another room and then led the way upstairs, followed by Colin and Northfleet.
“This looks out almost directly on Wester Voe,” he said, opening the door of a bedroom.
“Then you can clear out,” said Northfleet, taking the lamp from him. “No need to have that fellow reading our messages,” he added when the door was closed. Phew! He is in a funk, poor devil! We can count him out, so far as help’s concerned.”
Colin had walked straight to the window and gazed out towards Wester Voe. The light still shone from Jean’s room; but it disappointed Colin, who had hoped to see some kind of signalling. The girls must have known how long it would take the dog to find its way home, and he had expected that they would begin to send a message as soon as possible.
“See nothing?” asked Northfleet at his elbow. “Hazel’s clever. Lend me these binoculars.”
Colin unslung them and Northfleet gazed through them at the yellow-lit window in the distance.
“The curtains aren’t drawn,” Colin said, as he stared into the night. “See anything in the room?”
“Clever girl!” Northfleet ejaculated. “She’s thought of that. Take the glasses, Trent. If she’d signalled with the room lights, that damned patrol would have spotted what she was doing. She’s kept the main lights on, and under cover of that she’s signalling with a reading-lamp at the back of the room. You can pick it up with the glasses.”
Colin glued his eyes to the distant lights and read off the repeated dots and dashes of the code:
· · · — — — · · ·
While he watched, Northfleet had been busy. By placing the lamp on the floor and pulling the mirror of the dressing-table into a certain position, he improvised a crude heliograph which could be worked by swinging the glass up and down on its axis.
Stand clear of the window,” Northfleet ordered when he had finished.
He began signalling slowly and Colin read off the flickers:
— — — · — — — — · —
“She replies ‘M K’,” he reported. “Thank the Lord! They must be all right or she wouldn’t be able to send. Tell her I’m all sound, will you? Jean, you know——”
Northfleet signalled again and Colin saw Hazel’s reply:
“So glad. Don’t send too much. They might see. No one has come near us since they found door locked. We’ve barricaded it now. Some time ago heard them moving about. Now all quiet except patrol under window. Cannot escape. Did Peter come?”
Northfleet answered briefly, and added a request which made Colin fasten his gaze on the window. The thin curtains were drawn and suddenly between them and the glass appeared two tiny figures, sharply outlined against the translucent background. Colin looked hungrily at the smaller of them; then, recollecting himself, he passed the glasses to Northfleet so that he might see Hazel. The taller figure waved its hand with a courageous gesture. Then both stepped back from the window.
“Just as well to be sure there was no hanky-panky,” growled Northfleet. “With only the signals to go on, we might have been diddled by that gang, if they had the wit to spot what Hazel had done. That’s why I asked them to show themselves.”
Colin repossessed himself of the binoculars and read off a fresh message:
“Can you help, Cyril? Jean’s feeling the strain.”
Ere they could frame a reply the raucous shriek of the Klaxon horn broke out in the darkness.
“Enter the gunmen,” said Northfleet between his teeth. “Here, Trent. Send ‘Will call you again’ Don’t say more. No use alarming them.”
He drew his automatic from his pocket and raced down the stairs into the hall. Colin followed him in a few seconds, after having transmitted his signal.
CHAPTER XV
THE STUBBORNNESS OF PROFESSOR LEVEN
COLIN, his nerves alert for the first sound of the expected attack, was amazed to find no stir in house or garden. The door of the sitting-room was ajar; and when he pushed it open he found Northfleet, Leven, and the assistant there,