“There’s a light moving out from the shore.” The statement shook them. There was a simultaneous stir of feet and bodies, a heave of labored breaths. Bassett went to the entrance: [Pg 113] [Pg 113] “Yes—that’s a launch. They’re coming. I must go to meet them.” He looked over the company, the haggard faces all turned toward him. Some of them wore an expression of yearning appeal as if he was their only source of strength in this devastating hour: “Now remember there’s nothing to get scared or rattled about. They’ll ask you questions and what you must do is to answer them accurately—not what you think or imagine but what you know. Keep that in the front of your minds. The clearer you are in your statements the quicker you’ll get through. And please stay here, just as you are. They’ll probably want to see you right off.” A benumbed silence followed his departure. Anne moved from the door to a chair nearer the others. Stokes withdrew his hand from Flora’s and straightened himself, jerking down his waistcoat and craning his neck up from his collar. The low rippling murmurs of the receding tide were [Pg 114]singularly distinct. Suddenly the shrill whistle of a launch pierced the night outside. Mrs. Cornell leaped as if the sound had been a weapon that had stabbed her: [Pg 114] “Oh!” she cried, “why do they do that? Isn’t Sybil being murdered enough to stand!” “For Christ’s sake, keep your mouth shut,” Stokes flung at her, glaring. The savage quality in his voice penetrated Mrs. Cornell’s encasing terrors. She shrunk and slid the look of a frightened animal at Shine. Then the silence settled and they sat like those who have looked upon the head of Medusa. [Pg 115] [Pg 115]
Prev.
Back
Top