The Opal-Eyed Fan Part 7

"And even more now." Persis pulled a little at his arm, drawing him to his feet. He stood straighter, a faint flush high on the cheekbones of his worn, gaunt face. "I'll need you, Shubal, so we can do just as Uncle Augustin wanted."

"And we will, Miss Persis, that we will!" There was more force in his tone than she had heard for days. "Fust thing is we must get to this Key West-"

"Suppose you find Captain Pettigrew," she suggested action which would keep this alert interest alive in him. "See what you can discover about how he is going to get transportation there himself."

"That I will!" And he turned away from the small graveyard with a firm step.

Persis watched him for a moment and then continued back to the house. The long evening was closing in. She wanted to go through the papers in the portfolio more closely. Perhaps there was some name therein to suggest who in the Bahamas might be considered trustworthy. Though after Grillon's revelation she must be very wary of the lawyer of the Rooke estate. It could well be that he would be bound by family ties to serve this mysterious new claimant.

Also, there was Captain Leverett. She had been taking a night watch between Molly's and Mrs. Pryor's turns and she had no intention of shirking that. In fact, it was odd, but she found herself looking forward to those very quiet hours sitting by a shaded candle, listening for any sound from the big bed, but also able to think her own thoughts.

Her own thoughts-they were now in a queer muddle. Life had always been well ordered. There had been school. And, after she had been deemed of an age to quit Miss Pickett's supervision, there had been the household to manage. A little shopping, sewing, reading-looking back now, those days which had seemed so well filled appeared empty. Oh, she had made herself useful; there were also the household tasks which were the mistress' alone. But they had been very dull!

For the first time Persis allowed herself to admit that. Dull, dull, dull! The word repeated itself in her mind as she went up the inner stairs of the house. She had accepted that dullness because then she had nothing to compare with it. Now- "So there you are!"

Startled so quickly out of her own thoughts, Persis saw Lydia waiting at the top of the stairs. The other girl was not wearing her usual finery. Rather she had pulled about her a wrapper of heavy Indian muslin, while behind her was Sukie, laden down with a big sponge, several towels, and a small basket in which there was both soap and a bottle of toilet water.

"The storm filled the bathing pool well." Lydia pulled her wrapper tighter about her. "We can have the use of it to cool ourselves."

That darksome hole below the kitchen floor! Persis looked at her in startled amazement. Did Lydia mean go down there!

"Didn't Mrs. Pryor tell you? It's just right now."

"The turtles-" Persis said the first thing at the fore of her mind.

Lydia laughed. "Lord, they're penned up near the ca.n.a.l; we don't go near that part. But it's good to splash about in all this heat."

Persis considered the suggestion carefully. She had a good idea that Lydia was not speaking of something which she herself did not consider perfectly ordinary. And since the sea wind had died, Persis' walk to the sh.o.r.e had left her feeling unpleasantly hot. The sponge baths which suited a lady might perhaps not be all one needed in such a climate as this.

"Wear an old shift," Lydia advised her. "And don't worry about towels and such; Sukie has plenty."

There was a note of challenge in Lydia's words. And Persis decided that she was going to accept the invitation. If there was any danger, she was sure that it would never have been issued.

"I'll hurry." She pa.s.sed Lydia and began to unb.u.t.ton and untie almost before she closed the door of her room. This was a new form of excitement, a new part of this life which was not dull.

She dropped the petticoats which were so hot and dragged so, at once; unlaced the stays which chafed her. She had an old shift, and there was her wrapper, her slippers. She stopped only to s.n.a.t.c.h that ridiculous bow out of her hair, Molly's attempt to enliven her appearance, and then she did join Lydia who was waiting, openly impatient.

The trapdoor in the kitchen had been flung open and the light of a lantern gleamed up from below. Persis could not hesitate with Lydia already setting foot on the ladder to descend matter-of-factly.

So she followed her hostess down rungs which were damp with memory of the storm, to step out on a platform of wet stone where two lanterns gave a measure of light.

Lydia gestured to the right. "That's the cistern. It's both rain and spring fed. We dip in over here-"

"Over here" was to the left where there were water-washed steps leading down into the flood. Lydia handed Sukie her wrapper and kicked off her slippers. But, Persis noticed, she used caution as she went down the steps where the water washed first her ankles and then her knees, and then to her waist. She took those steps one at a time and held on to a soaked rope which served here as a banister.

When she halted, she was breast high. Then she looked up to Persis.

"It is no deeper in this part-unless the storm has raised the water level. Sukie, give me the soap." She deftly caught that as the maid tossed it down to her and fell to lathering her hands and arms. Gingerly, Persis began the same descent. The water was chill, or seemed so at first, in here shut away from the sun and the air. And the smell was strongly that of the sea. But it was good to feel it against her skin, cooling as it rose up about her body.

Rea.s.sured by Lydia's unconcern, she joined the other girl.

"One can swim out to the ca.n.a.l-even out to sea that way." Lydia held out the cake of scented soap and pointed with her chin toward the left where the lantern light failed to show any sign of wall. "Crewe opened it up in case of Indian attack. Other houses have cisterns and pools, but this is the only one with an escape way."

She scooped up handsful of the water and splashed her face.

"Cool-it is so good to be cool!" Then she ducked down until the water ringed her neck. "Crewe swims, but he won't teach me-or at least he's never home long enough to take the trouble. There's another rope under the water-you hold that and pull yourself out if you have to. Ahhh-" She closed her eyes blissfully.

Persis used the soap. It had the clean tang of herbs against the stronger scent of the sea, and the water was like the softest of linen enfolding her body.

"Miss Persis!"

She edged around to face the water-covered steps down which she had come so cautiously. Molly had elbowed aside the island maid and stood with a distinct frown of disapproval on her face.

"Miss Persis," now she spoke as she had when she had taken over Persis' childhood welfare and entertainment, "you come straight out of there-no tellin' what kind of nasty fish or thing can be swimming around waiting to get at you!"

"There's a net across the sea entrance," Lydia said, glancing from Persis to Molly and then back again with a rather sly set of eyes, as if she wanted to see just how much Persis was ruled by Molly's disapproval.

"I am perfectly all right," Persis summoned up confidence. "You need not worry, Molly."

At least the maid did not voice the rest of the arguments Persis had no doubt were burning on her tongue. But she became an embodiment of complete disapproval until Persis, having a.s.serted her independence and knowing that she still had her duty of watching Captain Leverett, haltingly climbed the steps once again.

With a distinct sniff, Molly flung around the girl the large towel she had taken from Sukie.

9.

Persis had a.s.serted her independence but, she discovered, she had not won Molly to acknowledge that in turn. The maid was ominously silent as she escorted her mistress back upstairs to her own chamber. So much so, Persis was piqued into speech.

"You should try bathing so, Molly. It's wonderful to be so cool in this weather!"

The maid sniffed.

"There's worse things than bein' hot, Miss Persis. If Miss Lydia wants to go rampagin' around so, you need have no reason to join her. A sorry sight you make now, both of you!" Her tongue held a sharp edge Persis knew of old. Molly was really upset.

"But-they all do it," the girl pointed out. "And when the weather is so hot it is wonderful to find a cool spot-"

"Miss Persis, you was raised a lady. And a lady don't go around bathin' out in the open like that. I think you'd be ashamed."

Molly set her lips tight together, as she could on occasion, and Persis sighed inwardly. There was nothing one could do when the maid was in this mood of righteous indignation.

Under Molly's eye she dressed, submitted to a none-too-gentle repiling of her hair. And she noticed in the mirror, as she watched Molly work at the edifice the maid thought due a lady for a public appearance, that the other's pursed mouth did not relax. Persis began to guess that perhaps more than her indulgence in the swimming pool irked Molly, and that feeling grew on her until she at last asked: "Molly-what is the matter with you? There is something behind all this-"

"Miss Persis, I was brought up to speak my mind when it was necessary, and right now-" For the first time her air of indignation was disturbed and she hesitated as if lost for words, before she continued briskly: "Miss Persis, you went down to the beach to meet that Captain Grillon. Don't you know that the Captain who's lying right across there on his bed, a sick man, has said that that Grillon is no better than a pirate and has ordered him off the island? Now that Captain Leverett isn't able to take care of him, the fellow comes sneakin' back and you meet with him as bold as-as-"

"Bra.s.s?" Persis suppled the last word of one of Molly's favorite expressions. "All right." She swung around sideways on the stool before the mirror, hardly giving the maid the chance to anchor the last hairpin securely. "Yes, I met with Ralph Grillon. He sent me that note you brought me saying he had news-important news-for me. And it was important, Molly. Captain Grillon sails out of the Bahamas, and he knows what is going on there. I may have no right to anything Madam Rooke left Uncle Augustin in her will. It seems that her husband's son left a child-and, if so, the will can be challenged."

"Miss Persis, you ain't just goin' take his word for that?"

"Not altogether, but he was very sure in what he had to tell me-so sure he offered a bargain."

"What kind of a bargain?" Molly's disapproval had vanished. She watched the girl now with complete attention.

"He wanted to keep in touch with Miss Lydia with my help. In return he would help settle matters in the Bahamas through a lawyer he knew. Of course, I told him that that was impossible. If he wanted to court Lydia he must do it openly and face up to Captain Leverett."

"Miss Persis, I wouldn't take that one's word that the sun was shinin' if it were out in the sky right over my head! I've seen his like before-swaggerin' around an' talkin' big. He got his comeuppance from the Captain the day the master died. An' all Miss Lydia's carryin' on didn't make a mite of difference either. They had a fight one other time over a wreck, and the Captain got the better of him. I wouldn't listen to no story he had the tellin' of! You get the Captain, when he feels better, to listen to it all. He'll put it straight for you."

"No, Molly. I can handle my own affairs. And I won't depend on Ralph Grillon for any help-that I promise you. What we want is to get to Key West and find a lawyer there. I have all of Uncle Augustin's papers. He can use them to make inquiries for me. It may be, Molly," she said soberly, "that Captain Grillon was not exaggerating. If this other heir does exist, then I will have lost all Uncle Augustin hoped to gain by coming south."

"If he's right!" Molly sniffed again. But a moment later she added, as if the dire meaning of Persis' words had come to her, "But-Miss Persis, what will you do then?"

"We have the house in New York." Persis thought of the first a.s.set. "That can be sold. It is a good house, Molly, and should fetch a good price. Then I can teach. Maybe Miss Pickett would find a place for me. Also, though Uncle Augustin was poor compared to what he had been, there is still some money. And you and Shubal have your pensions-those will come first."

"Not if you need the money, Miss Persis!" Molly shook her head decisively. "And you have only this Grillon's word that it is so-"

Persis wanted to cling to that hope also, but she disciplined herself quickly. Perhaps a female was not credited with a practical mind but she thought it best now to plan on receiving the minimum and not the maximum of an estate her uncle had left her.

"Molly, bring me the portfolio. I think there is some time before dinner for me to look through it again. Certainly if this heir exists, the lawyer in the islands must have warned Uncle Augustin of it. Unless he or she has been very recently found."

The maid went to the trunk and started to lay aside the contents which had not been placed in the chest drawers in the new chamber.

"Now that's a funny thing," she said. "I remember as well as if I saw it now, that it was under three night rails. But here it is on top."

She came back to Persis with it in one hand. "And n.o.body's been in that trunk but me and you. Did you have it out, Miss Persis?"

"No-" As Persis took it into her hands the cover moved. She held it closer to the light. Just as Molly had been so distinctly sure where she had put the folder, so had Persis been sure that it had been locked. But plainly the cover was now ready to open at a touch.

"Molly, my jewel box-Uncle Augustin's watch-is the fob still there, the one with the small key on it?"

The maid made a quick search. Persis' jewels were certainly very modest: a necklace of coral with matching hair ornament, bracelet, and earrings-carved into roses, two gold chains, one with a locket, and an ivory pin, and a set of jet which had been mourning jewelry for the mother she could hardly remember. Uncle Augustin's watch was there, with the key still fastened above the carved seal which formed the carnelian fob he had brought from London.

Persis examined the lock of the portfolio closely, holding it near the candles which Molly had set on the dressing table. Tiny scratches. She was sure those had not been there before! But she could not swear to that. If someone had forced the lock-but who-and why?

She moved quickly to pull out the papers, checking through them hastily. As far as she could see everything was there-the old letters, Uncle Augustin's will, the depositions of the privateer's men. Everything- but she was very certain someone had rummaged through them. Though she could not prove that either. Ralph Grillon? No, he would not have dared enter this house, for all his reckless self-confidence. But he might have bribed one of the islanders.

Only she doubted if any of the housemaids would be able to read. Sukie certainly could not. And Molly would not have done this. Persis shuffled the papers back into the portfolio. She was right, she discovered when she tried to close it-the lock had been broken.

"Someone has been looking through this," she kept her voice as calm as she could. "Molly, could you hide it among your things?"

"Miss Persis, who in this house-and why?"

"I don't know any answers, Molly. But the lock has been broken, only nothing was taken. And these may be highly important."

"You just give them to me. n.o.body is going to get at them again, Miss Persis. What a thing to have happen in a respectable house!" The maid flushed nearly as red with indignation as she had been when she had discovered Persis enjoying the pool.

The thought that her belongings had been searched was a blow-a threat. It couldn't have been Ralph, and she did not see how any of the servants might have done it by his bribes or orders. Then-Lydia? But she had no right to imagine that the other girl would do such a thing. Save that she was plainly fascinated by Grillon and, in defiance of her brother, might be moved to some reckless act to prove her partisanship with a man she plainly greatly admired.

"Don't you worry none, Miss Persis," Molly held the portfolio against her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s as if she would defy anyone under this roof to wrest it from her. "I'll see as how no one gets to this again!"

They dined by candlelight for the first time, the three of them together, Mrs. Pryor (who declared herself well satisfied with Captain Leverett's turn for the better), Lydia, and herself. And Lydia talked vivaciously as she always did, flitting from subject to subject. Only Persis found it hard to maintain polite interest in her hostess' chatter. She kept wondering if Lydia had been the one to invade her chamber, search it-perhaps the note from Grillon had been partially to get her out of the way before such action could be carried out. Grillon had offered her help, but could it just be the other way around-that he wanted to a.s.sist the mysterious heir and had come to get knowledge, one way or another, of what authority Uncle Augustin had brought south with him? She had made no great secret of the portfolio earlier. All knew it was her uncle's and contained papers of importance, though she had not gone into details over its contents with even Captain Leverett.

For the first time she considered a new and startling thought. Captain Leverett-he had offered her a.s.sistance in Key West. Yet Grillon had said he could not venture there-that there was a writ out against him. Her uncle, Shubal, either one of them without telling her, might have appealed to him. Also, there was Captain Pettigrew of the Arrow, still bound here on the Key with his crew. How much had her uncle talked with him during those hours when she had been so miserably sick in her cramped stateroom? It would be easy for Captain Leverett to get one of the servants to secure the portfolio, go through the papers. He had slept most of the afternoon Mrs. Pryor announced with quiet satisfaction, but she had left Sukie with him on watch since his turn for the better was so p.r.o.nounced.

Only-while she could picture Ralph Grillon rifling, or causing to be examined her belongings-Persis could not visualize similar action on Crewe Leverett's part. There was something petty-and-and perhaps dangerous enough to make her uneasy, in that action. While the Captain accepted danger as part of his daily life-it was a different kind of danger altogether.

"Miss Rooke-" Persis looked up quickly, hoping that her preoccupation had not been apparent to them all. She was not even sure her murmurs had satisfied Lydia who was now consuming a coconut custard spoonful by spoonful with the air of one who had not been enough appreciated for her social expertise.

"Captain Leverett has expressed a desire to see you, if it would be convenient," Mrs. Pryor continued, again with that air of vague disapproval which Miss Pickett in her day had used to such advantage.

Persis guessed that while the Captain was fevered and practically unaware of his surroundings, the housekeeper had welcomed her aid in nursing. But now that he was in his right mind, if not mended of body, visits to the sick room certainly did not meet with her approval. In her present mood Persis was perfectly willing to agree with the housekeeper.

"Whenever it is convenient I shall be very glad to accede to Captain Leverett's wishes," she answered with all the primness of her school days.

Lydia suddenly laughed. "You sound as if the last thing you want to do is to see Crewe. Is he so trying as a patient then? He has the temper of a devil, you know-a cold, sarcastic devil!" Her tone had been light but she ended with such vehemence and a look in her eyes which matched that of her brother's at his most exasperated.

"Very few men," Persis remarked, "take kindly to being ill. Uncle Augustin at times would have no one near him save Shubal. But your brother was unconscious, I think, most of the time, of who cared for him." She remembered her own short conversation with a rational Crewe Leverett, but saw no reason to enlarge upon that.

She mounted the stairs in Mrs. Pryor's wake, breathing a little fast. It was so like, somehow, being summoned into the presence of Miss Pickett to have one's sins of admission and omission reckoned up judiciously against one. And-but what had Crewe Leverett to do with her? She had helped to tend him during his illness, mainly because she still owed him the debt of being alive. Of course, her meeting with Ralph Grillon could well have been witnessed by some islander (she would be the first to admit she was not skilled in the processes of intrigue), and if that were so- then, she decided swiftly, as Mrs. Pryor lifted her hand to rap on the Captain's door, she would admit freely all that had pa.s.sed between them. She certainly owed no loyalty nor duty to the Bahamian.

There were a number of candles alight in the room and a kind of curtain netting pulled over each of the open windows, while that veiling about the bed had been drawn back to fully reveal the man resting there.

He had been shaven of his stubble of beard, and, though his face looked a little sunken, his eyes over-large, he had certainly taken a great stride back toward becoming the self he had shown when she had last seen him.

"Miss Rooke-"

She found herself, without knowing just why, falling into the pattern Miss Pickett had so drilled into her pupils, and making a curtsy. As if, she thought, with a kind of nervous laughter rising from within her which she struggled hard to curb, they were somehow being introduced for the first time.

"I see you find yourself better, sir," she schooled her voice to its most formal tone.

For the first time she saw him smile fully. And even on that worn face that change of expression made him shed both years and authority.

"I understand that I owe that somewhat to your efforts, Miss Rooke."

"I am well acquainted with nursing, Captain Leverett. My uncle was long in his bed after his seizure. But here I did little enough-only aided Mrs. Pryor when there was need."

"Come here!" With his good hand he beckoned sharply, his smile gone now, that familiar faint frown of displeasure easy to see.

Persis' chin lifted a fraction. He need not believe that he could carry his shipboard commanding ways here and against her. If that was the tone he habitually used with Lydia, she did not wonder that his sister made her own schemes for the future. But Persis did move a step or two forward into the direct light of the candles, to discover that he was surveying her with a steadiness which made her uncomfortable.

There was no subtlety about Crewe Leverett she learned a moment later for he said, without any dressing of polite usage: "I understand you met with Grillon-down on the point."

There must be plenty of eyes on Lost Lady Key to watch and report, Persis thought. But his own brusqueness aroused answering resistance in her. She was not his sister! At that moment she thought she could forgive Lydia any wiles she thought to use against this man.

Only long ago Persis had learned that truth in itself could be a potent weapon, sometimes disarming an attacker who did not expect it.