"'Knew you'd say that. Very well. This is Tuesday. The Mauretania—or the Lusitania, I don't know which—sails to-morrow. You can catch that, too. It's the quickest route, eastwards—"
"But I've decided to go west."
"That means a week more, and you said you were in a hurry."
"I am; but by going westwards it's barely possible I may be able to transact or wind up the business on the way."
As a matter of fact Amber was hoping the Rolands, with Sophia Farrell, might linger somewhere en route, remembering that the girl had discussed a tentative project to stop over between steamers at Yokohama.
"Very well," Quain gave in; "you're the doctor. Now as for things here, make your mind easy. I'll take charge and keep the affair quiet. There's no reason I can see for its ever getting out. I can answer for myself and Antone; and the two of us can wind things up. That man Rutton is at peace now—'chances are he'd prefer a quiet grave here on the island. Then that devilish babu—he doesn't count; Antone and I'll get him under the ground in a jiffy. No one ever gets over here but me, now; come summer and there'll be a few wanderers, but by that time…. The dunes'll hold their secrets fast: be sure of that. Finally, if any one round here knows about this place being occupied, your departure'll be public enough to make them think it's being abandoned again. Keep your hat-brim down and your coat-collar up at the station; and they'll never know you aren't Rutton himself; and you'll have Doggott to back up the deception. So there'll be no questions asked…. Get ready now to trot along, and I'll take care of everything."
"There's no way of thanking you."
"That's a comfort. Call Doggott now and tell him to get ready. You haven't much time to lose. I'd land at the lighthouse dock, if I were you, and take the short-cut up to the station by the wood road. If you land at Tanglewood, Madge'll hold you up for a hot breakfast and make you miss your train. I'll cook up some yarn to account for your defection; and when you get back with your blooming bride you can tell her the whole story, by way of amends."
Amber wheeled upon him, colouring to the brows. "My bride! What do you mean by that? I said nothing—"
Quain rubbed his big hands, chuckling. "Of course you didn't. But I'm wise enough to know there's bound to be a woman in this case. Besides, it's Romance—and what's a romance without a woman?"