He got into his cot, and the regular splash of ripples against the boat's side, and the soft slapping of the halyards on the mast, soon made him drowsy, but the last thing he saw was Andrew sitting on the opposite locker with a stern, thoughtful face.
CHAPTER XXV
A CLUE
There was a touch of frost in the still air and the light was fading. A yellow glow lingered in the southwest beyond Criffell's sloping shoulder, which ran up against it, tinged a deep violet. Masses of soft, gray cloud floated above the mountain's summit; but the sky was clear overhead, and a thin new moon grew brighter in the east This was why the murmur of the sea came out of the distance in a muffled roar, for the tides run fast when the moon is young.
Elsie, walking homeward, vacantly noticed how bright the crescent gleamed above the dusky firs, as she entered the gloom of a straggling wood at the foot of the hill on which Appleyard was built. She had been out all the afternoon and now she shrank from going home, for she felt that a shadow rested upon the house. Dick had returned from a cruise with Andrew, looking dejected and unwell; and she was glad that Whitney had taken both away again, on his motorcycle, because Dick had lately had fits of moody restlessness when he was at home. Still, she missed them badly, for her mother was silent and preoccupied; and when Andrew was away, she found it hard to banish the troubles that seemed to be gathering round. They were worse for being very vaguely defined, but she felt convinced that something sinister was going on.
As she thought of Andrew, her face grew gentle and she smiled. She knew his worth and his limitations, and loved him for both. He had his suspicions, too, and would follow where they led. Andrew was not the man to shirk a painful duty, but she could not openly help him yet. That might come, and in the meanwhile she would at least put no obstacle in his way. Still, if her fears were justified, the situation was daunting and she might need all her courage.
As she neared the lodge, she saw a man loitering in the shadow.
"Are you waiting for somebody, Jock?" she asked.
Marshall, the fisherman, turned and looked at her thoughtfully.
"Weel," he said, "they telt me Mr. Andrew's no' at home."