But the whole thing missed fire for the reason that Claire was shrewd, and knew him, and because her reason for coming was something which had far deeper object than the idle curiosity of which he accused her.
The blaze of anger he had expected was not forthcoming. Claire’s colour heightened, and her soft blue eyes were less wide as she gazed down into his plain, unsmiling face. Then the corners of her mouth dropped. And somehow her whole expression suggested distress to the man who so absolutely worshipped her. She shook her head slowly.
“Not curiosity, Ivor,” she said. “Not that.” Then a shadowy smile lit her eyes. “And as for the swell drive to pass an idle time, I’d have said you knew the Beacon trail better than that. If you don’t, why, just ask Mum, and get a look at the tires of our automobile. If you’d had some one you guessed the sun rose and set in who was travelling home to you in a ship that’s never been heard of since she handed out an S.O.S., why, it seems to me you’d feel like chasing the ends of the earth to get a look at any old wreck that blew in on to the rocks from Australia to the Arctic. Curiosity?” she cried scornfully. “Well, you can call it that way if you fancy it. I’m here because I couldn’t live with peace in my mind till I knew this boat wasn’t the one that should have brought our Jim back to us.”
The girl’s reply drove a wave of contrition surging through the man’s heart. He felt as though he had struck her a blow in the face. He felt as though he wanted to flee before the gentle reproach he interpreted in the look in her half-smiling eyes. And yet—— He glanced uneasily up at the sky.
“Your Jim’s ship was the Imperial of Bristol, Claire. You told me that months back,” he expostulated. “This is the Limpet of Boston. Your Jim wouldn’t have been aboard a coaster like this. Beating it from Australia he’d have been on a swell ocean-going vessel. Goodchurch knew all about this wreck. You must have got its name. I’d handed him the story myself and all the details. He should have told you and saved you from the Beacon trail. Say, little girl, I’m sorry I handed you that. I didn’t think, or—— You see, I know all your brother meant to you. We’ve talked about it, you and me, and maybe I ought to have guessed right away when I saw your dandy face peeking over that darn old rail.”
Again he looked anxiously up at the sky as a crack of the tattered sails warned him that the breeze was springing up with the flood tide.
“But I just tell you we daresn’t stop around here. You don’t know this bay like Sasa and I do. The tide’s setting in, and in a few minutes ther’ll be no getting off these rocks in Sasa’s boat or any other. It’s the most devilish place in the world. It was that current that caught and drove this poor blamed barge high and dry. We must get away right—— Eh?”
The girl had suddenly reached out a pointing finger. She had clutched his arm violently.
“My God! What’s—that?”
The cry broke from her in a low, almost inarticulate fashion. She was standing facing down the deck, her horrified gaze fixed on a spot on the deck in line with the canvas-sheathed winch. Her face had blanched to ashen whiteness, and the arm held out pointing was shaking like an aspen.