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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times-Advocate, 1938-12-08, Page 11THE EXETER TIMES-ADVOCATE WBSW, DECEMBER IW Rand saw that Sonya was again in conversation with Helene Duraud, He admired her courage. Helene was a formidable antagonist in her own feminine way. He was certain that Sonya was bound to fail in her battle of wits with Helene, just as he would fail in getting to the radio in Bur­ nell’s plane. As dusk came Sonya walked with him along the beach. They followed the shore to the high rock at its farther end, Sonya walked close be­ side him, her hand in his. “Helen and Philip were flying to an island near here where he has a house,” Sonya said. “Travaqua is the name of the island. It had a familiar sound to me. I tried to think if it wasn’t Philip who had mentioned it to me. And suddenly I knew!” “Knew what?” said Rand. “I knew that Philip had spoken of Tavaqua, about this place there,” she said with a rush of words. “He had told me about it jokingly one ev­ ening when he and I were having cocktails on the verandah of the house at Maglaya. You see, Philip of­ ten came there at first. He was doing business with my father. Philip told me that Tavaqua was a perfect place for a honeymoon. That is was lone­ ly, beautiful. He said there were no natives there, no one. I asked him how he knew it was a .perfect place for a honeymoon. He told me, laugh­ ingly, that he had tried it out. He said the girl’s name was Gracia and that she was a Eurasian girl.” “And you. told Helene that?” “Yes. She wouldn’t believe it. 1 told her to ask Philip about—about Gracia. I think she intends to.” They were silent then, staring out to sea. The water was murky and the horizon dark. A dead calm lay lay over the island and the sea. Then suddenly the sound of the airplane rose upon the still night. Burnell had repaired his gas line-and 'was warming his plane. “It looks as though our only chance to radio your father is slip­ ping through our hands,” Rand said, gloomily. "I must seem very inade­ quate, failing you so.” Sonya shook her head in denial. “You’ve been grand, Rand. You’ve done all that could be done. Besides Maya Jack will leave now—and that is some reward.” They saw a figure running toward them. It was Pete Barker. He halt­ ed before them, gasping for breath. “Maya Jack,” he shouted. “Com­ ing—after the girl! Take her into the brush and hide.” “He’s coming for Sonya?” Rand asked incredulously. “What for? To take her off in the plane?” Pete nodded vigorously. “He and jLaBlanc—if Maya Jack doesn’t dou­ ble-cross LaBlanc at the last mom­ ent. You’d better hide, too, Kirby, Maya Jack will shoot you if you in­ terfere.” Pete hald Balu’s long-bladed knife He took it from his belt and handed it to Rand. “You can hide in the jungle for days,” he said. “He won’t find you easily—” Rand nodded. Sonya pressed close to Rand. Her alarmed gaze traver­ sed from the gloom of the beach to the stygian blackness* of the jungle wall. “Oh, Rand—” she sobbed. "Come!” Rand eaid crisply. "We have no time to lose.” There was no broken path thro’ the underbrush. Rand had to beat a trail for Sonya and himself. It was difficult. Bamboo shoots cracked underfoot, sometimes tripped them Thorns of bushes bit at their clothes and skin like insects. Vine tendrils drooped from tree-tops swayed snak­ ily in their path, sometimes twisted about their arms or throats as if alive and predatory. There was al­ ways the danger of snakes, and that danger became a haunting fear. Ba­ lu’s agony was Still clear in their memory. They pushed on until they came upon a tiny clearing where moss was soft underfoot. Here tliey paused, breathless and tense. "We may as well stay here,” Rand said, “We can’t go on breaking our way through the underbrush," "But if he comes, Rand?” Rand did not answer. He made Sonya rest by the bole of a palm. He sat beside her, holding her hand in his. She was very near at that mo­ ment. (Sonya was silent a long time, Then: “Rand what, if he finds us here?” “I shan't let him take you, darl­ ing,” he promised. “He’s mad, mad as they come.” “But he will kill you, Rand?” ehe said, her voice tragic. “I know he will. I saw1 it in his eyes since that time he discovered you kissing me. He hates you. And he will try to kill you!” In the gloom, Rand's face was hard. He knew that what Sonya said was true. Maya Jack Canna­ ghan hated him and would try to kill him— Rand grew tense as a sound like the snapping of a bamboo shoot pierced the eerie silence of the night. He arose, listening. Then: “Stay here, Sonya. I shall be back in a moment.” He drew Balu’s heavy knife from his belt and cautiously pushed thro’ the brush along his back trail. He knew it was possible that Maya Jack might have stumbled upon the path through the brush. He had traveled but a score of yards when he saw Maya Jack’s big figure. The man saw him at the same instant. A space of perhaps twelve feet separated them. Rand’s arm came up to throw the knife. It was never thrown. There was a move­ ment behind him and then a vine tendril in the hands of one of the native seaman was looped expertly about his throat and drawn taut. The knife dropped from Rand’s hand. He grabbed at the vine rope at his throat, tried to pull it away. A cry escaped him. He heard Maya Jack laugh mirthlessly. Rand let himself go limp, and the weight of his body was too much for the native to hold. The vine came away from his throat. Rand tensed his body, whirled about so that his left arm struck the native in the stomach. The native gasped, bent double. Rand seize! him and held him as a shield before him, between him and Maya Jack. But Maya Jack was closing in, his gun drawn. “Maya!” It was Sonya’s voice, sharp with terror. "Maya—stop!” Maya Jack shook his blond head. “Why,” he said, “should I stop? This man has double-crossed me all too often!” Rand released the native. He saw he had little use for a shield. Maya Jack could pot him easily. There was nothing he could do, no defense he could use. Maya Jack Cannaghan was intent upon killing him. CHAPTER XII Had Maya Jack Cannaghan been raging,, Rand Kirby would not have been more alarmed. But Maya Jack was not in a violent rage. He was as calm as if he were playing a hand at poker, rather than sentencing a man to death. Rand’s fear chilled him as much as an arctic wind might have had it swept across that tropical island. His entire being was tensed as he gaug­ ed the chances of an attack in the face of Maya Jack’s gun. The chances were one in a million. Maya Jack would plug him before he had taken one-half dozen steps between them. There was still Sonya. .Sonya came and stood before Rand, facing Maya Jack defiantly. "Maya,” she said, hollowly, “you can’t do such a thing. You can’t-—” Rand expected the big blond is­ lander to laugh derisively. But Maya Jack was in no mood for derision, in no mood—or he respected Sonya too much to laugh at anything she said. Instead, lie shook liis head stub­ bornly, "You don’t understand us of the far islands, Sonya,” he said. “When a man crosses another it means that one or the other must pay to wipe out the debt. That’s our code. We understand it—Kirby here as well as I.” "What about me, Maya?” Sonya said pointedly. "You double-crossed me.” iA dull flush spread over Maya Jack’s face. "That doesn’t count,” he said. "I happen to be- top man at present. As for Kirby—” "Maya!” Sonya said, hoarsely. "Maya, you want to take mo with you in the plane, don’t you?” Hesitation; then: "I am taking you with me.” "By force, yes,” said Sonya, in the liollowost of tones. “But—but wouldn’t you rather have me go— Willingly?” "Sonya!” Rand cried. “Don’t—” "What do you moan?” Maya Jack asked. “I’m bargaining with you, Maya. My willingness to go against Rand’s life.” Rand said savagely, “Stop talk­ ing like that, Sonya! Fight! Don’t give your consent to go willingly. He doesn’t rate that.” Her hand groped for Rand’s, clos­ ed over it. Her fingers were tremb­ ling. “Quiet, darling,” she said, plead­ ingly. Then, Maya Jack Cannaghan was saying, “All right. I accept, But Kir­ by must stay here until we take off, We’ll truss him up to make sure he does.” He curtly ordered his native hench­ men to take his vine rope and bind Rand's ankles and. wrists. Rand clenched his left hand and prepared to fight. It was Sonya who betray­ ed him. She grasped his arm, clung to it until the native had secured it with his makeshift rope. Pain rack­ ed Rand as his injured arni was lash­ ed behind him to the left. Then his ankles were secured and he was tumbled to the sward, helpless. “(Sonya!” he cried. “Sonya—” She did not answer. There was only the sound of their going. Fin­ ally, there was not so much a'& that. Only a deep silence. Rand struggled in his bonds and found there was nothing tougher than live vine to break. He couldn’t loosen a single strand. He lay still after a time, spent, breathless, a ghastly horror on him. As he lay there, tortured by fear for Sonya, he swore that so long as there was any breath left in his lungs he would trail Maya Jack Cannaghan. And he knew what would happen when they met, no' matter how distant the meeting. An eternity of time seemed to .pass until he heard the roar of the plane taking off. He distened to its deep- throated sound and struggled futilely in his bonds. The plane sounded low over the jungle where he lay, roared on and gradually faded to a low whirring sound no greater than that of a mos­ quito's wings. Then silence clamp­ ed down, terrible and oppressive. Another eternity .passed until the native returned and loosened the bonds. Rand got to his feet, un­ steadily. like a man long ill. He be­ gan pushing through the brush. He broke from the brush at a point on the shore far from where the signal fire blazed. He stood staring out to sea, over which a new moon was rising slow­ ly. The horizon was dark, bleak, lonely. Rand stumbled finally along the beach toward the distant blaze like a man in a trance. There came a strange numbness in his heart. He saw a figure moving toward him from the fire after a time. A small, slender ligule that should lrave be­ longed to Pete Barker. Rand halted, turning to the sea. He did not want to face Pete Barker or anyone else at the moment. He heard Pete, or the person who should have been Pete, moving over the loose sand behind him. He did not turn to fact the man. Timid fingers plucked at his sleeve. He shook off those fingers. Then: “Rand . . .” whispered a voice. The voice, Sonya’s voice! Rand whirled, his face a mask of disbelief. His eyes widened and he stared at thb slender girl in worn jersey and skirt. It was she; she whom he loved, whom he had lost! “Sonya!” he cried. “Sonya, my dear, is it really you?” “Yes, Rand,” she said quite calm­ ly. He seized her hand, was aware that he was too weak from emotional strain to stand longer. He dropped to his knees before her, still clutching her hand. He held her hand to his feverish lips. It was cool to his touch. “Sonya.” he whispered. “Sonya.” Her name was all he could voice. Yet so much was adequate. It told more than any words he could have found. He knelt still, he who had never knelt to another woman. He clung to her hand, unable to know that his possessive grip on- it was cruel. He looked up at her finally and saw tears in those incredibly lovely dark eyes. But Sonya was smiling through the tears, happily. She sank down onto the sand be­ fore him, into the circle of his arm. Her face lay against his chest. She wept softly. “Sonya,” he said chokingly. ‘What happened? Has Maya gone?” "He has gone, Rand,” she said. “But don’t make mo explain now. I can’t talk, I don’t want to I—I just want to be quiet—so that I may hoar you say one thing. That you love me.” “I love you, Sonya. I love you,” ho said so viciously that there could be no doubt of it. They moved along the beach to the signal fire finally, to where the others wore seated, huddled in pairs, either silent or conversing in hushed tones. Rand first saw Helene Durand. Strangely enough Helene was talking not to Philip Burnell but to Pete Barker. Rand looked for Burnell and saw the man with Kelly Burk. Those two were not speaking. They were staring dreamily into the fire. Balu Jay on a tarpaulin just be­ yond the glow of the fire. He saw Rand and make a welcoming sign with his hands. The other native seamen from the schooner were carrying fuel to the fire, Burnell’ plane of course was not in its place on the beach, Nor was Maya Jack Cannaghan there. Nor Jacques LaBlanc, who was wanted for murder at Zamboanga. Rand did not question Sonya as to what had happened while he lay trussed up helpless in the jungle. He knew she would tell him in her own good time. The night passed and a new day came. The sun came up burning through a haze of clouds. A fogbank lay against the horizon, so that the smoke of the signal fire would not have been seen had a ship sailed past Then suddenly at high noon, the fog lifted and the cloud dissolved, The sun glared down from a blue sky. And there on the horizon, crawling over the rim of the globe like a tiny insect, was a ship. Excited cries resounded on the heavy air. Pete Barker began pil­ ing green bamboo onto the fire and a heavy column of black smoke roll­ ed skyward. And perhaps a quarter of an hour later they saw the ship creeping nearer, growing in size till it took shape and was easily distin­ guishable. As the ship neared the island, Rand and Pete Barker put out in the lifeboat and rowed to the schooner, which was hourly lying farther over on its starboard side. It was diffi­ cult footing aboard her, and took took much effort to get to the safe in the chartroom. Rand made it fin­ ally, and opened the safe and took out the black leather bag he had re­ ceived from Henri Duraud in pay­ ment for his buildings on Maglaya. The money the bag contained would have to be a start, a new start, for himself—and for Sonya. The ship turned out to* be a fish­ ing boat manned entirely by Filipin­ os. Rand had little difficulty mak- ng the captain understand that they had been shipwrecked and wanted to be taken to Maglaya. Arrangements were easily made when Rand placed a substantial mount of his American dollars in the Filipino skipper’s hand Rand stood with Sonya at the rail watching the island receding into the sea. “I’m glad it is over, Rand,” Sonya said. “Yet regretful, too," She smiled faintly. Then: "I told you 'be­ fore it was the first time I escaped boredom. My life at home was so— so monotonous. One tires of parties and artificial gaiety. I can honestly say that I met no boring people on our mad cruise and on our desert is­ land.” “It’s not over Sonya,” Rand said. "It’s only the beginning for you and for me. It’s going to be a none too prosperous beginning. You will not be marrying a rich man, dear.” “Rand, there’s something I’d bet­ ter tell you—” “Well?” he said, smiling at her. “It’s this,” Sonya said. "Maglaya belongs in equal shares to my father and to me. It was willed so by my grandfather. So you are going to be able to carry out your plans for Maglaya—and I’m going to help you.’ "Darling!” was all Rand could say. They turned their backs on the is­ land. They saw Helene Duraud across the stern deck. Helene was staring disconsolately at the sea. ‘My plan worked with Helene,” Sonya told Rand. “She asked Philip Burnell about the girl Gracia, and Philip betrayed himself. He couldn’t explain away his being a ladies’ man. Helene is quite submissive. I am glad this is a native ship. Perhaps we can get Helene back to Maglaya without my father knowing she was ever away. These natives won’t tell . . and I won’t. / "Sonya,” said Rand, unable to be silent longer. “What miracle did you perform on Maya Jack Cannaghn that he went away without you?” A frown came over her lovely face. She was reluctant to.talk. But fin- lly she said, "I counted on Maya Jack being in love with me, Rand. I knew you believed he really loved me. I wasn’t sure if it were love lie felt for me—or if it was only desire. But he did love me, apparently. When we reach the beach after leav­ ing you there in the brush, I made him stop and face me. I told him to look at me. Ho did—oh, he did. I could see he was quite mad with what must have been some sort of love. I played the only trick a wo­ man really Has—-that of using a love a man bears her . , Rand stared at her silently, mar­ veling at her, loving her, Sonya went on, with a rush of words, "I asked him point-blank if lie loved me. He sftfd, ‘Yes, Sonya, I do,’ No emotional outburst, Rand. Just ‘Sonya, I do,’ I knew then I’d won. I asked him lie wanted to see me wretched—-or if lie didn’t want mo happy. He couldn’t answer, nor could lie look at mo. I told him thou that if he’d go—alone—I’d re­ member his lovo for mo. That if ho took me with him hating him and making him realize how much I hat­ ed him. . , "And then ho wont?” It wag tragic. Ke looked crushed. He went to the plane and he and Jac­ ques LaBlanc climbed in. They took off at once.” They were silent after that, look­ ing at the phosphorescent’ wake of the ship. Then, Sonya said, hollow­ ly: “I—I hope I never see him again.” “You won’t, Sonya,” Rand said. “Maya Jack Cannaghan is done in the islands. He knows that. The con­ stabulary will pick him up if he ever shows up here again. He’ll probably drift on through the orient,” Sonya nodded gravely. “Sonya,” Rand said, trying to rid her of unpleasant memories, "you rid Pete Barker of his fears and sav­ ed LaBlanc from committing another horrible crime. You gave Kelly Burk new hope. And you are taking He­ lene Duraud back to her husband. You separated Maya Jack from his madness. What—what are you go­ ing to do for me?” Sonya’s dark eyes glowed with shining lights as she looked at him, "For you, Rand?” she said, softly “Why, I’m giving you love. Isn’t that enough?” It was. Rand Kirby wouldn’t have asked more. 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