"Where is Daddy? Oh, please, will you take me to him...."
"Your father has gone to fetch the yacht," I answered and broke off in sheer perplexity. Where was the Naomi? The unexplained appearance of Marjorie on the island complicated matters horribly. Alone I was content to face the prospect of eluding Clubfoot and the vengeance he would surely try to wreak on me. But with a woman....!
There was nothing for it but to put into execution the plan I had already formed. I must find—and that without an instant's delay—a hiding-place and withdraw there with the girl. That must be my first care. The future must look after itself.
And the cipher? My intention had been to scale the terraced rock to follow up the next clue. There were caves there in which we could shelter and the topmost terrace would surely afford a view over the sea and enable us to sight the Naomi as soon as she appeared off the island.
We would make for the terraces and lie, snugly hidden there, until the yacht came back. And in this way I might also continue to follow up the clue to the treasure. But we must have food and arms. We should have to go back to the cave on the shore.
I looked at Custrin. He lay like a log.
"Come," I said to Marjorie, who was now looking at me curiously.
I glanced down at my clothes and realised that my appearance must be nothing less than forbidding—my face grimy and unshaven, my white drill torn and stained and my boots all soggy with sea-water.
"You look so tired.... and so grave," she said. "What can have happened?"
"Let us go back to the camp," I rejoined, "and I'll tell you as we go."