Poison Island

it and up the hill towards open country, taking the ascent with long strides which forced me now and again into a run. Twice or thrice I glanced up at his face, for I was s

forward, nor halted until we reached the summit, and the open country lay before us, with the Channel and its long horizon on our left. Here, in a cornfield on the very knap of the hill, and some two hundred yards back from the road, stood the shell of an old windmill, overlooking the sea- deserted, ruinous, without sails, a building many hundreds of years older than the oldest house in Falmouth, serving now but as a landmark f

and he had to moisten his under-lip with his tongue before he coul

sir," said I,

id, an' that cussed song, too? Sang it, he did; slapped it out at the top of his voice in a public tavern. I tell you, B

it," said I, "and that har

hook my head. "Well, then, I could be sworn I heard him singin' them words for minutes, an' me sittin' all the while wi' the horrors on me afore I dared look in his damned face. An' you tell me he piped but a line of it?" His

head again. Despair grew in his

on, these two men were forced to do something that brought them within reach o' the law. We'll put it that, when the thing was done, the one o' this pair felt it heavy upon his mind, but t'other didn' care no more than a brass button; an' the one that t

odd

e, I saw the bark of his hand whiten slowly with blisters- "well, then, you can't go for to argue with me that the A'mighty would go

e wicked man-for a worse punishment in the end. A great deal," I added, "mi

ng me, to throw a quick glance back along the footpath, then faste

as possible. 'Murder will out,' they say; b

He threw me a furtive sidelong look, and halted before me mopping his forehead. "I'll t

never offered

atchin' for me sooner or later. Next, our plans ain't laid for startin' straight off-here as we be-an' givin' him the go-by. Third an' last, I daren't go carryin' the secret about with me; he might happen on me any moment, an' I'm not in trainin'. The drink's done for me, boy, whereas he've been

aces forth and back, an

aid, "how abou

answered; "that is, i

Branscome, but there's folks as know about my goin' to him for naviga

?" I e

m, in his time. Well, now, if I can slip out o' Falmouth unbeknowns to him, an' win to yo

to Penryn and pick

k his head as he tu

s. It won't carry me. An' I daren' go

," I suggested; "an' he might fetch you the

say that on the second shelf he'll find a small bagful o' money-he needn't stay to count it-an' 'pon the same shelf, right back in the cornder, a roll o' papers. Tell him to keep the papers till he hears from me, but the bag he's to give to you, an' you're to bring it along quick- with the key. Mind, you're not to go with him on any account; an' if you should run against this Glass on your way, give him a wide berth-go straight home to Stimcoe'

hot on this side of the Market Strand; and while I ran I kept- as the sayin

aptain was not at home. He had gone out early in the afternoon, and left his doorkey with her, saying that he was off on a visit, and would not return before to-morrow afternoon at earliest. For a moment I was tempted to disobey Captain Danny's injunctions, an

cognizing my footstep, the old man came forward to meet me, out of the sha

ssing enough to me, h

r which plied in those days between Falmouth and the small village of St. Mawes across the harbour-"the St. Mawes packet is due to start at seven-thirty. I won't risk boardin' her at Market Strand, but pick up a boat at Arwennack, an' row out to hail her as she's crossin'. She'll

least likely to be tracked. We descended the hill together, keeping to the dark side of the road. At the foot of the hill we parted, with the understanding

t would be lying alongside the Market Strand. The moon was up-a round, full moon-and directly over St. Mawes, so that her rays fell, as near as might be, in the line of the cutter's course, which, with a steady breeze down the harbour, would be a straight one. From the edge of Market Strand I might be able to spy Captain Coffin's boat as he boarded. Let me, without extenuating,

n standing directly under the light of the quay-lamp) drew back from the edge into the darkness. I had done better, perhaps, to stand where I was. How long he had been obse

es!" called the skipper

it, without removing his hands from his pockets, put a