“We! Whom have you told?”
“Nobody. I have Judy and Jack with me, to help with the boat, but they do not know who you are. It was the only way: you have to be in Adelaide as quickly as possible.”
“But have you the money? I can’t go without it.”
“I have everything, and here is Transom’s letter: you are to get out at Mount Lofty, outside Adelaide, where he will meet you with a car. Is there anything you want to ask me?—because I do not want you to talk before the children. Your voice is so like their mother’s that it might make them suspicious. And please keep your hat pulled down well over your face.”
“You’re free enough with your orders,” he said with a sneer. “However, I suppose I am in your hands. Where is the money?”
“In the launch, in your suit-case. Do you want to get anything from the hut?”
“Yes—my hat and a few things. Get into the boat; I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He ran back, and I went down to the shore, where Judy and Jack waited in a solemn silence. But the launch seemed to quiver with their ecstasy!
We carried no light as yet—the moon gave us sufficient to steer by, though clouds hid it now and then. I was glad that a bank had drifted across its broad face just as Ronald Hull came down, in a long mackintosh, with a soft hat pulled over his eyes. He took his place on the bow, and we edged away for the last time from Shepherd’s Island.
Never was there a more silent voyage. Not a word fell between us as we ran the long miles along the coast, passing, one after another, the lights of little villages. The sky grew more and more overcast, and the air warmer, with little puffs of hot wind now and then. Had I been less centred on getting to Southport and seeing the last of my passenger, I might have been anxious about the weather; but I could only think of the blessed certainty that soon he would be gone, and hug myself with joy when I remembered the news I should have in the morning for Mrs. McNab. Judy’s hand was light on the tiller: Jack crouched over the engine, a queer, gnome-like figure, in the shadow. Ahead, the sinister figure sat on the bow, his back to us, smoking. I wondered what his feelings were, with freedom opening before him: and hardened my heart anew as I recollected that he had made no inquiry whatever about Mrs. McNab’s illness. Truly, it was a meritorious act, to rid a family of Mr. Ronald Hull.
“There’s Southport!” Judy said softly.