Seven for a Secret

Outward Bound

We found our cabin which was on the boat deck. It was small; but we had expected that. There were two beds, each against a wall with a space between so that we should be able to lie in bed and see each other. There was one porthole. We had a dressing-table with a mirror above it, a washbasin and a wardrobe. I could see that we should be rather cramped for our clothes, as Tamarisk had brought quite a wardrobe with her.

Our luggage had not yet arrived and when we had examined the cabin we went out to inspect the ship.

There was bustle everywhere and there seemed to be a great many people hurrying in all directions. Piles of luggage lay in the foyers of the decks awaiting delivery to the cabins. We mounted the companionway and inspected the public rooms. There was a smoking-room, a reading-room, a music room and another room in which dances and such entertainments could be held. We were very impressed.

As we returned to our own deck, we saw stewards delivering the luggage.

“I wonder if ours is there,” said Tamarisk. She inspected the pile.

“The labels tell you where they are going,” she commented.

“Look at this one. . Barlow, Passenger to Melbourne. I wonder what J. Barlow is like? Mrs. Craddock, Passenger to Bombay. I don’t see ours. I wonder if it is in our cabin now. Oh, just look at this! Luke Armour, Passenger to Sydney and Casker’s Island.”p>

She turned to me, her face alight with interest.

“Imagine! He’s going to our island! There can’t be many people on board who are doing that.”

“It’s nice to know there is one.”

“Luke Armour. I wonder what he’s like?”

“I think it is very possible that during the voyage we may discover.”

We returned to our cabin to find that our luggage was there. We unpacked, washed and went down to dinner. We sat at a long table with several others. There was some conversation and we learned a little about our fellow travellers, but they were too tired to talk a great deal and, like ourselves, overwhelmed by the effort of getting on board.

As soon as we could, we returned to our cabin.

The movement of the ship told us that we had set sail; and we lay in our beds talking until Tamarisk’s voice grew more and more drowsy and at length faded away.

I lay sleepless, thinking of poor Aunt Sophie’s tear-filled eyes when she had said goodbye, and of James Perrin, who had made up his mind that I would soon be back.

But chiefly I thought of Crispin with that look of hopeless longing and pleading which I knew I should carry with me for ever.

Looking back on those first days, they seem a little hazy to me. There was the adventure of getting to know the ship on which we were continually losing our way. There were so many rooms to explore, so many people to meet, so much that was new to us.

I remember well the roughness of the sea after that first night.

Tamarisk and I lay in our beds and felt at times that we should be thrown from them, and then we wondered whether we had been wise to come.

But that passed and we were on our feet again, ready to take an interest in our surroundings. I was greatly comforted to have Tamarisk with me, and I am sure she felt the same about me.

We were assured by Jane, our very attentive stewardess, that we should feel differently when the weather changed. The Bay of Biscay was noted for its habit of playing tricks, fcif&iftft fl ut she has known it smooth as a lake.

“It just depends on the way the wind blows. Well, ladies, we’ll soon be out of it and when we are, you can start enjoying yourselves.”

She was right, of course. The turbulence passed and the adventure began. It did not take me long to realize that, although I could not stop myself yearning for Crispin, to plunge into an entirely new and unusual experience was the best way to distance myself from it so that I might see it more clearly. It was also gratifying to see how Tamarisk was benefiting from the adventure.

We dined each day at the long table with several others and were soon all chatting together in a friendly fashion. Most seemed eager to talk of their experiences on other ships and to tell us where they were going. Very many of them would be leaving the ship in Bombay; they were in the service of the Government or Army and were going back to India after a spell of leave. Most of them were experienced travellers.

There were some who were visiting relatives in Australia or Australians who were returning home after staying with family or friends in England. We had yet to find anyone who was going to Casker’s Island apart from Luke Armour, and he was just a name on a luggage label to us at that stage.

The Captain was genial and made a habit of talking to the passengers whenever he had an opportunity of doing so.

He liked to hear where everyone was going and when he heard we were bound for Casker’s Island he raised his eyebrows.

I told him we were visiting my father there.

“Is that so?” he said.

“Not many of our passengers go there. I suppose you have it all fixed. You’ll be leaving us at Sydney, of course.

There’s a ship leaves the same day for Cato Cato and from there you’ll get the ferry boat to Casker’s. Quite a journey! “

“Yes, we had heard that.”

“No, don’t get so many people going there. I think the ferry might not leave very frequently from Cato Cato. It takes goods over, and passengers if there are any. But you are going to your father, you say. I suppose he’d be in some business there. Copra, I’ll guess.

There’s a lot of business from the coconuts. People don’t realize what a useful product they are. I believe they produce the main industry for Casker’s. “

“I don’t know. I only know he’s there.”

“Well, we’ll take care of you till Sydney. Then we shall be there for a few days before we start the homeward run. How are you liking my ship?”

“Very much.”

“Everyone looking after you, I hope?”

“Yes, very well thank you.”

“That’s good.”

After he had left us. Tamarisk said: “It seems our Captain thinks we are going to one of the most remote places on earth.”

We had arrived at our first port of call, which was Gibraltar. And by this time we had made the acquaintance of Major and Mrs. Dunstan, who were going out to Bombay where the Major would join his regiment. They were seasoned travellers, having made the journey to and from India several times. I think Mrs. Dunstan was a little shocked to find two inexperienced young women travelling alone, and was determined to keep an eye on us.

She told us that when we reached Gibraltar, if we wanted to go ashore, which she was sure we would, it might be a good idea if we accompanied her and her husband. A small party would be going from the ship; they would hire a guide and see a little of the town. We were delighted to accept.

I awoke in the morning to look through the porthole and see the Rock of Gibraltar looming up ahead of us. It was an impressive sight. We hurried on deck for a better view and there it lay before us in all its glory, like a defiant fortress at the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.

Major Dunstan came and stood beside us.

“Magnificent, isn’t it? Never ceases to make me proud that it is ours.

The ship will move round to the west, I expect. You’ll see. Oh yes, we’re moving now. “

We stood there watching. We were now on the west side of the peninsula on which Gibraltar stood. The slope here was more gradual and tiers of houses stood above the defensive wall. As we came into the bay we could see the dockyard and the fortifications.

“Have to defend the place,” said the Major.

“Busy down there, isn’t it?”

I gazed in wonder at the small boats which were coming in to greet the ships. From one several small boys were looking up appealingly at us.

“They want you to throw coins into the water so that they can swim around and catch them. Shouldn’t be allowed. It’s a dangerous practice.”

I felt sorry for the boys. They looked so eager. A few passengers did throw down coins and they darted about like fishes triumphantly holding up the coin when they had retrieved it. We could see the town now. It looked colourful and interesting. Neither Tamarisk nor I had seen any place like it before.

The Major was saying: “We have to go ashore in one of those little boats. The ship is too big to get closer. You’ll be safe with us. You have to watch these people. They are inclined to overcharge the tourists.”

We crossed in one of the little boats under the care of our friends the Dunstans, and the rest of the party. It was an exhilarating experience and I could forget everything just for the moment, and I knew it was the same with Tamarisk. It was good for us both to have such respite, however brief.

Ashore we were caught up in the crowds. Several people from the ship were there, mingling with the natives. There were Moors in their loose robes and fez hats or turbans which gave an exotic atmosphere to the place. Other nationalities were there Spanish, Greek as well as English. They all seemed to make a great deal of noise, shouting to each other as they passed along.

In the narrow streets stalls had been set up. There were all sorts of goods on display trinkets, rings, bracelets, necklaces, leather goods capacious bags of the softest kind with patterns tooled on them very delicately; there was bread being baked in cavern-like shops. Some loaves were on display decorated with little black seeds; there were fez hats, turbans and straw hats; shoes, sandals such as were worn by the Moors, some with pointed toes curled upwards, and soft leather slippers.

Tamarisk paused by one of the stalls. A hat had caught her eyes. It was made of straw, rather like a boater, and trimmed with blue ribbons and a bunch of forget-me-nots.

She picked it up. The salesman was alert while Mrs. Dunstan looked on in mild amusement.

“You can’t wear that, my dear,” she said.

To tell Tamarisk she could not do something, I knew from the past, always made her determined to do it.

She put on the hat. The man at the stall watched her, his black eyes wide with admiration. He put his hands together and raised his eyes to the sky. It was obvious he meant to convey the impression that he was overwhelmed by the beauty of Tamarisk in the straw hat.

It did make her look young and she reminded me of Tamarisk the schoolgirl. The nightmare of the last months had left her untouched for the moment.

“It’s fun,” she said.

“I must have it. How much?”

Mrs. Dunstan was at her side and a little bargaining ensued until Mrs. Dunstan, with an air of authority, clinched the deal, sorted out the money which Tamarisk had been able to change, and Tamarisk set the straw hat on her head, putting the small toque which she had been wearing into a bag, and we went on.

It was the Major who said we must see the Barbary apes. That was essential. We should have to climb a bit as they inhabited the higher slopes.

“You’ll find them amusing. They’ve been here for hundreds of years.

We like to see them flourishing. There is a legend that while the apes are here the British will be too. The two will go together. A lot of nonsense, of course, but these things have an effect on people, so we like to check that the apes are doing well. “

They were certainly amusing, lively creatures, with alert inquisitive eyes, accustomed to visitors, for as the Major had said, when you come to Gibraltar you must see the apes.

They approached us almost mischievously, coming close, clearly without fear. They apparently liked attention and seemed to glean as much amusement from the visitors as the visitors did from them.

“Be careful of anything you’re carrying,” warned Mrs. Dunstan.

“They have a way of snatching things and running off.”

Just as she spoke one came very close. We did not see him at first, then Tamarisk gave a sudden cry, for he had whipped her hat from her head and was running off with it.

Well! ” stammered Tamarisk, and we could not help laughing at her dismay.

“It was very colourful,” said Mrs. Dunstan.

“It must have caught his eye. Never mind. It’s gone now.”

We walked on and had not gone far when a man ran up with Tamarisk’s new hat in his hand.

He was laughing.

“I saw what happened. You lost your hat. The ape was so quick. They are very human, these creatures. He stopped near me. He was looking back at you. That gave me the opportunity. I snatched it from him.”

“How clever of you!” cried Tamarisk.

Everyone was laughing. Others came up and joined us.

“It was the funniest thing,” said one of the ladies.

“The ape looked so bewildered. Then he seemed to shrug his shoulders and run off.”

“It’s a becoming hat,” said its rescuer, smiling at Tamarisk.

He was tall, fair-haired and pleasant-looking, with a manner which was immediately likeable.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Tamarisk.

“It was so easy. The wily ape only had possession of his prize for a few seconds.”

“I’m glad to have it back.”

“Well,” said Mrs. Dunstan, ‘all’s well that ends well. I shouldn’t put it on again. Tamarisk, if I were you. This time there might not be a gallant rescuer at hand. “

We moved on and the man seemed to attach himself to us. I had no doubt that he was among the party of sightseers from the ship.

Mrs. Dunstan confirmed this by saying: “You are on the Queen of the South, of course.”

“Yes,” he said.

“It seems that most of the people in Gibraltar today are from the Queen of the South.”

“It’s always so when the ship calls,” added the Major.

“I think it is time we descended a little,” said Mrs. Dunstan.

“Perhaps a little refreshment would be a good idea. What about that place we went to last time, Gerald?” she addressed the Major.

“Do you remember? You liked those special pastries they had?”

“I remember them well,” replied the Major.

“And I am sure everyone would like to sample them. We can watch the world go by while we refresh ourselves.”

We descended and the hat rescuer was still with us. We found the cafe and about six of us went in and sat where we could look out on the street. The fair man was with us. He sat between Tamarisk and me.

Coffee and the special pastries were ordered and the Major, looking at the newcomer, said: “It’s amazing that one can be on a ship in a fairly confined space and not know a number of one’s fellow travellers.”

It was clearly an invitation to the young man to introduce himself.

“I’m Luke Armour,” he said.

“I am going to Sydney.”

Tamarisk and I looked at each other in delight.

“That’s interesting’ she burst out.

Mrs. Dunstan was looking at her as though to say, in what way?

Tamarisk explained: “We saw your luggage label on the first day we got on the ship. Your bags were piled up with the others. We saw you were going to Casker’s Island.”

“That’s right,” he said expectantly.

“The point is,” said Tamarisk, ‘so are we. “

“Really! How interesting! You must be the only ones apart from myself.

Why are you going there? “

“My father lives there,” I said.

“We are going to see him.”

“Oh,” he replied.

“Do you know it well?” I asked.

“I’ve never been there.”

“People always look amazed when they know we’re going there,” said Tamarisk.

“Well, nobody seems to know very much about it. I’ve tried to find out but there doesn’t seem much to know. All I learned is that it is an island which was discovered by a man named Casker about three hundred years ago. He lived there until he died. Hence, Casker’s Island. Your father lives there, you say?”

“Yes, and we are going to see him.”

He looked at me questioningly, as though wondering why I knew so little about the place since my father lived there. But he must have guessed that my relationship with my father was not a usual one and he was too polite to probe.

“How are you going to get there?” I asked.

“There is only one way, it seems. Leave at Sydney and take a ship to a place called Cato Cato and from there get the ferry to Casker’s.”

“That is what we are doing.”

“Well, it is interesting to find someone who is going to this little-known place.”

“Rather comforting,” commented Tamarisk.

“I agree,” he said with a warm smile.

We were both happy to have discovered the identity of Luke Armour and to have found him so pleasant.

He was very knowledgeable and told us that when he visited places he liked to learn as much about them as possible. That was why he was frustrated at being unable to discover much about Casker’s.

“It is wonderful to see the world,” he said.

“One has heard of places from school lessons but it is seeing them in reality which brings them to life. I like to think of Tariq ibn Ziyad coming to this place years ago in 711, I think. That would be nearly twelve hundred years ago.

Just think of that! And the English thought Jabal Tariq (Mount Tariq) was too foreign for their liking and Jabal Tariq was trans lated into Gibraltar. And now the place is in British hands the only entrance to the Mediterranean from the Atlantic Ocean, to be guarded as one of the most important fortresses in the world. “

“That’s true,” said the Major.

“And long may it remain in our hands!”

“And now,” said Mrs. Dunstan, ‘if everyone is finished, I think it is time for us to return to the ship. “

We were very tired that evening. Tamarisk and I lay in our beds talking about the day’s adventures.

“It was wonderful,” said Tamarisk.

“The best I’ve had since-‘ ” It was interesting,” I agreed.

“The most marvelous moments were when Luke Armour came up with the hat and when he said that he was the name on the luggage label. And he’s going to Casker’s! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Well, we knew he had to be on the ship somewhere.”

“But that he should be the one to retrieve my hat from that odious little monkey! It was wonderfully dramatic. And when he said who he was, I wanted to burst out laughing. He’s nice, isn’t he? There’s something about him.”

“You don’t know him yet.”

“Oh, but I shall,” she said.

“I am determined to and I don’t think he will be averse.”

We did see a good deal of him after that. He did not offer to tell us why he was going to Casker’s and we did not ask him. We knew that, as we were all going there, we should know in due course.

We gravitated towards each other. We used to meet on deck; then we would sit and talk. He knew a great deal about islands. He had spent a few years in the Caribbean and on one near Borneo; but Casker’s was more remote than any of these.

By the time we reached our next port, which was Naples, we were on friendly terms and it was natural that he should suggest that we should accompany him to the ruins of Pompeii. Mrs. Dunstan, having by now cultivated the acquaintance of Luke Armour, thought it was quite in order for us to go with him.

It was a most interesting day and Luke Armour was an instructive companion. He had said he liked to know something of the places he visited and he talked very vividly and made me, at least, feel I was back in that tragic year of 79 a. u. when Vesuvius had erupted and ruined the thriving city, together with Herculaneum and Stabiae. The remains seemed to come to life and I could picture those people and the panic of bewilderment and not knowing where to turn to escape the destruction.

When we returned to the ship Tamarisk remarked:

“What a serious man our Luke Armour is! He seemed to care so much about all those ancient ruins and the people who had lived there.”

“Didn’t you think they were interesting?”

“Yes, but he does go on. It’s all in the past, isn’t it?”

“He is serious-minded. I like him.”

“The way we met him was fun, but now he seems …”

“He is certainly not frivolous, but I should have thought you would have learned to be a little wary of people who are all charm on the surface with not very much of value beneath.”

I was sorry I said that afterwards. It had an effect on her. She lost a little of her high spirits for several hours, and when we were next with Luke Armour she was very charming to him.

We were both looking forward to going through the Suez Canal and were not disappointed. I was enchanted by the golden banks and the occasional glimpse of a shepherd tending his flock. Such were like the pictures in the Bible we had had at Lavender House. We saw the occasional camel making its disdainful way across the sandy soil and people in their long robes and sandal led feet added a picturesque touch to the scene.

It was pleasant to sit on deck and watch this as we slowly & ‘- “I! passed by.

Luke Armour came to sit beside me.

“Inspiring, isn’t it?” he said.

“It’s a wonderful experience. I never thought I should see it.”

“What a feat making such a canal! And what an asset to shipping!”

“Indeed yes.”

“Well, we are getting on with our journey.”

“You must be accustomed to travel. Imagine what an experience it is for those who have not done it before.”

“There is something very special about the first time in doing anything.”

“That’s so. I wonder what the other ship will be like?”

“Not as big as this one and less comfortable, I imagine. The Golden Dawn which will take us to Cato Cato may be similar, though much smaller. And I have had some experience of ferries. They are not so good.”

“You must have done a great deal of travelling in your business.”

“To outlandish places, yes. Your father, too.”

I hesitated. Then I decided I should tell him, for he would know in due course as he was bound for Casker’s Island.

I said: “I have never seen my father. He left home when I was too young to remember. He and my mother were divorced. She died some time ago and I live with my aunt. Now I am going to see him.”

He nodded gravely and we were silent for a while.

Then he said: “I dare say you are wondering what my business is. I am a missionary.”

I was astonished, and he laughed.

“You feel a little shocked?”

-Shocked? Why should I be? “

“People sometimes are. I think I look like an ordinary man going about an ordinary business. They don’t expect me to be what I am.”

“I suppose it is very laudable.”

“I see it as my destiny-as it were.”

“So you go to these far-off places.”

“To bring people to the Christian faith. We have a mission in Casker’s Island. There are only two people there a brother and sister, John and Muriel Havers. They have recently set it up and are having difficulties. I am going out there to help get things in order if I can. I did this in another place … and now I am going out to this one to try to do the same.”

“It must be very gratifying if you are successful.”

“Everything is gratifying if one is successful.”

“But this particularly so.”

“We try to help the people in every way. We teach them hygiene, how to grow crops suitable to the land-well, to lead good and useful lives in general. We are hoping to set up a school.”

“And the natives are friendly?”

“Usually, although they can be a little suspicious at times. That’s very understandable. We want to show them the Christian way of life -how to forgive their enemies and love one another.”

He began to talk of his plans and his ideals. I liked his zeal.

“I am very fortunate,” he said.

“I am able to do the work I want to do. My father left me a small income, so I am more or less free. This is the way of life I have chosen.”

“You are fortunate to know what you want to do with your life,” I said.

“And you and Mrs. Marchmont?”

“Well… there was trouble at home and we thought this would help.”

“I knew there was sadness there-even for Mrs. Marchmont.”

He waited, but I did not tell him more, and shortly after that I left him.

I found Tamarisk in the cabin waiting to go out.

I said: “I’ve just had a talk with Luke Armour. He told me he is a missionary.”

“What?”

“A missionary who is going to work on Casker’s Island.”

“You mean convert the natives?”

“Something like that.”

She grimaced.

“Do you know, after the way he retrieved my hat, I thought we were going to have some fun with him.”

“Perhaps we shall.”

“I had no idea,” she said.

“I thought he was just an ordinary man. I think I shall call him St. Luke.”

“That seems, shall we say, a little blasphemous.”

“But a missionary!” she murmured under her breath.

She was disappointed.

The days were passing. We had slipped into a routine and one day was very like another until we came into port; and then there would be times of activity during which we would be absorbed by new impressions in a world that seemed very far away from Harper’s Green.

My friendship with Luke Armour was growing. He was charming and a diverting companion. He told amusing stories of the places he had visited and rarely spoke, unless pressed, of his dedicated calling. He told me once that when people discovered it they were inclined to change towards him, sometimes avoiding him, at others expecting him to preach to them. He had noticed that Mrs. Marchmont’s attitude seemed different since she had known.

Tamarisk had certainly been a little taken aback. She had been so delighted by the manner in which he had rescued her hat from the ape. She had said to me that it was an interesting way to begin a friendship and she had thought there might be fun in developing the acquaintance, particularly as he was going to Casker’s Island. I was amazed that, after her recent experiences, she could contemplate a somewhat flirtatious relationship, for I was sure she was wondering how there could be such with a missionary.

I thought then: All that has happened to her has not changed her.

The Dunstans left us at Bombay. We said goodbye to them with some regrets on both sides, I think. They had been good friends to us and helped us considerably by initiating us into the ways of shipboard life.

After they left Tamarisk and I went ashore with a party of acquaintances. We were struck by the beauty of many of the buildings and appalled by the poverty we witnessed. There were beggars everywhere. We wanted to give but it was beyond our means to help all those who crowded around us; and I felt I should be haunted for a long time by those pleading dark eyes. The women in their beautifully coloured saris and the well-dressed men seemed indifferent to the plight of the beggars; and the contrast between wealth and poverty was both distressing and depressing.

We had an adventure in Bombay which might have been disastrous. The Dunstans had impressed on us that it was always unwise to go ashore without ship companions and we should never go alone. We were passing with our party through narrow streets in which stalls had been set up.

Such places always caught the attention of Tamarisk. I must say the goods looked intriguing. There were displays of silver articles and said lengths beautifully embroidered, trinkets and all kinds of leather items.

Tamarisk was interested in some silver bangles.

She picked some up and tried them on and after that decided she must have them. There was some difficulty about the money and by the time the transaction was completed we found that the rest of the party were out of sight.

I seized Tamarisk’s arm and cried: “The others have gone. We must find them at once.”

“Why?” said Tamarisk.

“We can get some conveyance to take us back to the ship just as easily as they can.”

We started along the streets. We had been with a Mrs. Jennings who had once lived in Bombay and knew the place well. She had taken charge of us all; and now that we had lost sight of the party, I could not help feeling apprehensive.

There were crowds everywhere and it was not easy to make our way through the press of people. When we reached the end of the street I could not see any of our party. I looked round in dismay, for nor was there any sign of a vehicle which might take us back to the ship.

A small boy ran into me. I was startled. Another dashed by. When they had disappeared, I saw that the small bag in which I was carrying our money was no longer on my arm.

I cried: “They have stolen our money. Look at the time! The ship will leave in just over an hour and we were asked to be on board half an hour before she sailed.”

We were both panic-stricken now. We were in an unknown country with no money; we were some way from the ship and had no idea how to get back to it.

I asked one or two people the way to the dock. They looked at me blankly. They had no idea what I was talking about. Desperately I searched for a European face.

Possibilities flashed into my mind. What should we do? We were in a desperate situation and all because we had been absorbed in Tamarisk’s purchase.

We went up another street. There was a wider road ahead of us.

I said: “We have to try this.”

“We didn’t come this way,” replied Tamarisk.

“There must be someone who can tell us the way to the docks.”

And just at that moment I saw him.

I cried out: “Mr. Armour!”

He came hurrying towards us.

“I met Mrs. Jennings,” he said.

“She told me you’d strayed in the market there. I said I’d come and look for you.”

“We lost our money,” said Tamarisk in great relief.

“Some horrid boys stole it.”

“It’s unwise to be on your own.”

“Oh, how glad I am to see you!” cried Tamarisk.

“Aren’t you, Fred?”

“I can’t tell you how glad! I was getting more and more terrified every moment.”

“Afraid we’d sail without you? Which would have happened, of course.”

“You are our saviour, Mr. Armour,” said Tamarisk. She took his arm and smiled up at him.

“Now you will get us back to the ship, I know.”

He said: “We shall have to walk a little and then we can get a ride.

There’s nothing just here. But we are not so very far from the docks.”

My relief was immense. The prospect of being left alone in this place had daunted us both; and now here was our rescuer suddenly coming upon us with the news that he had come to look for us.

“How did you find us so soon?” asked Tamarisk.

“Mrs. Jennings said they had lost you in the market. I knew the place and guessed you’d come out where you did from Mrs. Jennings’s description. I thought it best to hang about there for a few minutes.

And you see, it worked. “

“It is the second time you have come to my aid,” Tamarisk reminded him.

“First the hat and now this. I shall expect you to be at hand at the next time of danger.”

“I hope I shall always be at hand to help you when you need me,” he said.

I was almost happy as we mounted the gangway and stepped on board. It had been a miraculous rescue and I still shivered to contemplate the alternative. I was glad, too, that it was Luke Armour who had saved us. I was liking him more and more.

So was Tamarisk, although she still referred to him as St. Luke.

She had certainly changed towards him. On one or two occasions I found her sitting on deck with him. I usually joined them and we would have a pleasant time together.

We were getting near to the time when we should leave the ship and Tamarisk admitted that she was glad we should not be the only ones going to Casker’s Island, and that it would be good to have St. Luke there. He was resourceful and would be of great help.

She told me that he had even talked to her about what he was going to do on Casker’s Island. He had no idea what he would find there, but he believed it would be different from any other place he had known. The mission was in its infancy and the initial stage was always the most difficult. They had to make the people understand that what was being done was in their interest and not for the sake of interference.

“He’s an unusual man,” said Tamarisk to me.

“I never knew anyone like him. He is very frank and honest. I told him about myself, how I had been infatuated with Gaston … about my marriage … and everything … even how Gaston had been found dead. He listened with great attention.”

“I suppose,” I said, ‘it is a story which would attract most people’s attention. “

“He seemed to understand how I felt that frightful not knowing and wondering who … and also being under suspicion myself. He said the police could not have suspected me, or they would not have let me leave the country. I told him that it had seemed as though we were all cleared myself, my brother and the man whose daughter he had seduced, everybody. That was what made it so difficult for us all, not knowing. I said that I thought it was someone from Gaston’s past, someone who had had a grudge against him. He promised he would pray for me, and I replied that I had prayed for myself without much effect, but perhaps he would be listened to more than I would, being on better terms with those above. He was a bit withdrawn after that.”

“You shouldn’t have said it.”

“I knew afterwards, but I meant it in a way. He is such a good person and I suppose it is logical to suppose he would get a hearing more easily than someone like me. If there is any justice he would. He’s the sort of person whose prayers ought to be answered and I reckon he prays as much for others as he does for himself. He’s a nice man, our St. Luke. I really like him.”

We were sailing up the Australian coast first Free-mantle, then Adelaide, Melbourne, and that brought us very near to our departure from the Queen of the South.

At last we reached that splendid harbour which Captain Cook had said was one of the finest in the world. It was magnificent, passing through the Heads, to see that town which not very long before had been merely a settlement, stretching out before us.

There was little time for us to see much, for the bustle of approaching departure prevailed throughout the ship. There were goodbyes to be said to the people whom we had sailed with all those weeks, with whom we had sat down to meals three times a day. I said to Tamarisk: “We do not see our close friends at home as often as that.”

And now they were going out of our lives for ever and most of them would become just a memory.

Luke Armour had become very businesslike. He wanted to make sure that all our luggage was conveyed to the Golden Dawn and that we should all go aboard together.

It was a pity we could not see more of Sydney a very fine city, we realized from what little we could observe. However, the most important thing to us was to proceed satisfactorily on our journey.

“How very efficient our holy man is!” said Tamarisk. There was always a note of mockery in her voice when she talked of Luke. She liked him; it was just that she could not regard a man who followed his calling as being like other men.

At last we had boarded the Golden Dawn and were on our way. She was a cargo ship first and foremost, and it was only occasionally that she carried passengers.

We had a rough crossing of the Tasman Sea when we spent most of our time in bed before we reached Welling ton. Our stay there was brief, as it depended on the amount of goods to be taken on and off. Then we were on our way to Cato Cato.

There followed a leisurely day at sea. The weather was calm and hot and it was a great pleasure to sit on deck and look out on a smooth and pellucid sea in which one glimpsed here and there flying fishes rising gracefully from the water and now and then a shoal of dolphins at play.

We sat on deck with Luke and learned of his childhood which had been spent in London. His father was a business man who had done well in financial circles. He wanted both Luke and his elder brother to join the business but Luke had had other ideas. On his father’s death, he had been left sufficient money to follow his inclination and the elder brother had taken over the business.

Luke had not liked his father’s business but he admitted that it enabled him to do what he wanted with his life. As his brother had complied with their father’s wishes, he felt he could go his own way with a clear conscience.

“So,” said Tamarisk teasingly, which was typical of her manner to Luke, ‘you do not like your father’s business, but you admit that because of it you can spend your time doing what you want. How does that suit your conscience? “

“I see your point,” he said with a smile.

“But I believe in life one must apply simple logic. My income, which enables me to work as I want, comes to me through a business in which I do not wish to work.

But I can see no logical reason why this money should not help to promote something I believe in. “

“I suppose,” said Tamarisk grudgingly, “I shall have to say that sounds like good sense.”

“I hope you will never say anything to me which you do not believe.”

And that was how the days passed. Tamarisk kept up a friendly badinage with Luke which they both seemed to enjoy.

And in due course we came to the island of Cato Cato where we were to leave the Golden Dawn and await the ferry which would take us to Casker’s Island.

Cato Cato was a small island, but when we arrived it was full of activity. There were shouts of welcome as the Golden Dawn sailed in.

Little boats came out to meet the ship and the passengers were-taken ashore before the unloading of goods began.

We were surrounded by shouting and gesticulating people. They were obviously excited by the arrival and all were eager to show us what they had for sale. There were pineapples, coconuts, carvings on wood and stone images of what appeared to be mysterious and malevolent-looking gods or warriors. Tall palm trees grew in abundance and the surrounding vegetation was lush indeed.

Luke said that the first thing was to find a hotel where we could stay until the ferry arrived, and as soon as we were settled somewhere he would make inquiries as to when it could be expected.

We found a man who was eager to be our guide. He spoke a little English but he depended to some extent on a kind of mime.

“Hotel?” he said.

“Oh yes. I show. Nice hotel … lord and ladies . nice hotel. Ferry he come. Not this day.” He shook his head vigorously.

“Not day.”

He had produced a wheelbarrow on to which our lug gage was loaded and, pushing his way through the little crowd which was beginning to assemble about us, he signed to us to follow him. Several children, without a scrap of clothing to cover their brown bodies, stared at us in wonder as we went, and our guide kept turning his head to make sure we were behind him.

“Come follow,” he shouted.

Resolutely he wheeled the barrow to a white stone building a few hundred yards from the shore.

“Fine hotel. Very good. Best in Cato. You come. You like.”

We went into a room which was several degrees cooler than outside. A large woman with a very dark skin, brilliant black eyes and dazzling teeth smiled at us.

“I bring, I bring,” said our guide.

“Lords, ladies …” And then he began to talk volubly in their native tongue.

The woman went on smiling as she directed her attention to us.

“You want stay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Luke told her.

“We have to stay until the ferry comes to take us to Casker’s Island.”

“Casker.” She blew with her lips.

“Oh no. Best here. I have two …”

She held up her fingers.

“Two rooms?”

“Two rooms would suit us very well,” said Luke, and turning to me:

“You two will share?”

“We did on the ship,” said Tamarisk.

“Let’s see what they are like.”

We were very speedily settled and as there was no choice we gratefully accepted what there was. The plump lady seemed very pleased by our arrival and her only regret was that we were waiting for the ferry.

The rooms were small and somewhat primitive, but there were two beds in each. It would only be a short stay. There were mosquito nets over the beds and the fat lady was very proud of these, which was obvious when she pointed them out to us.

At length the guide went off happily with the air of a man who has done a worthwhile job.

We discovered that the ferry was due on Friday and as this was Wednesday we considered that we were fortunate that our stay would be so short.

It seemed strange to be on dry land after so long at sea, and it was all so new to us that we were eager to get out and see a little of the island, which we guessed could not be so different from Casker’s as they were no great distance from each other.

We went to our respective rooms and took from our baggage the few things we should need during our short stay.

Tamarisk thought it was all very exciting.

“I liked the fat lady,” she said.

“She was so pleased that we had come, and sorry because we were not going to stay long. What better welcome could you have than that?”

The ferry connecting Cato Cato and Casker’s Island paid more or less regular visits, taking to both islands goods which had come out from Sydney. It was also one source of conveying the mail.

We settled in and prepared to wait. The heat was intense, but at least it was a little cooler in our rooms than outside.

We were exhausted after our arrival and had a meal of some unknown fish and fruit and as, by that time, it was getting late we decided to have an early night, for we should have to explore, if we wished to, during the morning or evening, since we realized the heat would be too great at midday and in the afternoon.

Tamarisk was soon asleep, but I lay awake listening to the sound of the waves and the strains of a musical instrument which someone seemed to be playing some little distance away.

I wondered what Crispin was doing at this moment. And Aunt Sophie? She would be asking herself what could be happening to me. And soon I should see my father. It was what I had always wanted. But how I should love to be back in England!

“If only,” I kept saying to myself.

“If only that woman had never existed. If only she had never come back.”

This was not the way. I had to put a distance between myself and all that. I had to think which way I was going, what I should do with my life.

One thing was certain. I should never forget Crispin.

I glanced at Tamarisk. She looked beautiful in the moonlight, her hair spread over the pillow; the mosquito net under which she lay made her skin look translucent. It was easier for her. She had longed to get away and her one desire was to escape, to forget. She had changed a little but often the old Tamarisk looked out. This journey was what she had needed, and she was succeeding in loosening the bonds which held her to the past.

I believed I never would.

The next morning we explored Cato Cato. Our presence excited a certain amount of curiosity among the natives, although they were not completely unaccustomed to Europeans. Tamarisk’s golden hair received a good deal of attention. One woman came up and touched it. None of them attempted to hide their curiosity. They stared at us openly, laughed and giggled as though they found us a cause for hilarious amusement.

The heat was intense and we stayed in the hotel after lunch. We sat looking out on the scene just waiting for the time to pass.

“Not long now,” said Tamarisk.

“Soon we shall be there. I do hope it won’t be as hot as this place.”

“Probably not much difference,” said Luke.

“You’ll get used to it. One does.”

“You’ll have your work … your important work,” said Tamarisk.

“What shall I do?”

“You might like to come and give me a hand. I dare say I shall find something for you to do.”

Tamarisk grimaced.

“I don’t think I am quite the right type, do you?”

“I am sure you could make yourself so.”

They were smiling at each other.

She appealed to me.

“Can you see me doing good works?”

I said seriously: “I believe you could do anything if you wanted to enough.”

“There, you see, St. Luke. There is hope for me yet.”