alistairmaclean.bearisland-第21章

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　when　I'd　gone　to　sleep。　And　what　〃had　wakened　me？　Something　had；　I　knew　without　knowing　why　that　I　hadn't　wakened　naturally　but　that　there　had　been　some　external　cause。　What　and　where　was　the　cause？　A　sound　or　a　physical　contact；　it　couldn't　be　anything　else；　and　whoever　was　responsible　for　whatever　it　had　been　was　still　with　me。　He　had　to　be；　insufficient　time　had　elapsed　since　I'd　waked　for　him　to　have　left　the　saloon：　more　importantly　the　hairs　on　the　back　of　my　neck　told　me　there　was　another　and　inimical　presence　in　the　saloon　with　me。
　Gently　I　took　hold　of　Mary　Stuart's　wrists　to　ease　her　arms　away。　Again　the　resistance　was　automatic；　hers　was　not　a　subconscious　to　go　to　sleep　on　the　job；　but　I　was　in　no　mood　to　be　baulked　by　any　subconscious。　I　prised　her　arms　free；　slid　along　the　settee；　lowered　her　carefully　to　the　horizontal；　rose　and　moved　out　towards　the　middle　of　the　saloon。　I　stood　quite　still；　my　hands　grasping　the　edge　of　a　table　to　brace　my　self；　my　breathing　almost　stopped　as　I　listened　intently。　I　could　have　spared　myself　the　trouble。　I　was　sure　that　the　weather　had　moderated；　not　a　great　deal　but　enough　to　be　just　noticeable；　since　I'd　gone　to　sleep；　but　it　hadn't　moderated　to　the　extent　where　any　stealthy　movements…and　I　could　expect　none　other…could　possibly　be　heard　above　the　sound　of　the　wind　and　the　seas；　the　metallic　creakings　and　groanings　of　the　ancient　plates　and　rivets　of　the　Morning　Rose。
　The　nearest　set　of　light　switches…there　was　a　duplicate　set　by　the　stewards　〃　pantry…was　by　the　lee　door。　I　took　one　step　in　the　remembered　direction　then　stopped。　Did　the　presence　in　the　room　know　that　I　was　awake　and　on　my　feel？　Were　his　eyes　more　attuned　to　the　darkness　than　my　newly　opened　ones？　Could　he　dimly　discern　my　figure？　Would　he　guess　that　my　first　move　would　be　towards　the　switches　and　was　he　preparing　to　block　my　way？　If　he　were；　how　would　he　block　my　way？　Would　he　be　carrying　a　weapon　and　what　kind　of　weapon…I　was　acutely　aware　that　all　I　had　were　two　hands；　the　left　one　still　a　fairly　useless　lump　of　tingling　pins　and　needles。　I　stopped；　irresolute。
　I　heard　the　metallic　click　of　a　door　handle　and　a　gust　of　icy　air　struck　me：　the　presence　was　leaving　by　the　lee　door。　I　reached　the　door　in　four　steps；　stepped　outside　on　to　the　deck；　flung　up　an　instinctively　protective　right　forearm　as　a　bright　light　abruptly　struck　my　eyes　and　immediately　wished　I　had　used　my　left　forearm　instead　for　then　it　might　have　offered　me　some　measure　of　protection　against　something　hard；　heavy；　and　very　solid　that　connected　forcibly　and　painfully　with　the　left　side　of　my　neck。　I　clung　to　the　outside　edge　of　the　door　to　support　myself　but　I　didn't　seem　to　have　much　strength　left　in　my　hands：　and　I　seemed　to　have　none　at　all　in　my　legs　for　although　I　remained　quite　conscious　I　sank　to　the　deck　as　if　my　legs　had　been　filleted：　by　the　time　the　momentary　paralysis　had　passed　and　I　was　able　to　use　the　support　of　the　door　to　drag　myself　shakily　to　my　feel？；　I　was　alone　on　the　deck。　I　had　no　idea　where　my　assailant　had　gone　and　the　matter　was　one　of　only　academic　interest；　my　legs　could　barely　cope　with　supporting　my　weight　in　a　static　go　position：　even　the　thought　of　running　or　negotiating　ladders　and　panionways　at　speed　was　preposterous。
　Still　clinging　to　whatever　support　was　at　hand　I　stepped　back　into　the　saloon；　fumbled　the　lights　on　and　pulled　the　lee　door　closed　behind　me。
　Mary　Stuart　was　propped　on　an　elbow；　the　heel　of　one　palm　rubbing　an　eye　while　the　lid　of　the　other　was　half…open　in　the　fashion　of　a　person　just　rousing　from　a　very　deep　or　drugged　sleep。　I　looked　away；　stumbled　towards　Captain　Imrie's　table　and　sat　down　heavily　in　his　chair。　I　lifted　the　bottle　of　Black　Label　from　its　stand。　It　was　half…full。　For　what　seemed　quite　a　long　time　but　could　have　been　no　more　than　seconds　I　stared　at　this　bottle；　not　seeing　it；　then　looked　away　to　locate　the　glass　that　Halliday　had　been　using。　It　was　nowhere　to　be　seen；　it　could　have　fallen　and　rolled　out　of　sight　in　a　dozen　different　directions。　I　selected　another　glass　from　the　table　rack；　splashed　some　Scotch　into　it；　drank　it　and　made　my　way　back　to　my　seat。　My　neck　felt　awful。　One　good　shake　of　my　head　and　it　would　fall　off。
　〃Don't　breathe　through　your　nose；〃　I　said；　〃and　you'll　hardly　smell　the　demon　drink　at　all。〃　I　propped　her　up　to　a　sitting　position；　rearranged　her　rugs　and　forestalled　her　by；　for　a　change；　putting　my　arms　around　her。　I　said：　〃There　now。〃
　〃What　was　it？　What　happened？〃　Her　voice　was　low　and　had　a　shake　to　it。
　〃Just　the　door。　Wind　blew　it　open。　Had　to　close　it；　that's　all。〃
　〃But　the　lights　were　off。〃
　I　put　them　off。　just　after　you'd　gone　to　sleep。〃
　She　wriggled　an　arm　free　from　the　blankets　and　gently　touched　the　side　of　my　neck。
　〃It's　colouring　already；〃　she　whispered。　〃It's　going　to　be　a　huge　ugly　bruise。　And　it's　bleeding。〃　I　reached　up　with　my　handkerchief　and　she　wasn't　making　any　mistake：　I　stuffed　my　handkerchief　into　my　collar　and　left　it　there。　She　went　on　in　the　same　little　voice：　〃flow　did　it　happen？〃
　〃One　of　those　stupid　things。　I　slipped　on　the　snow　and　struck　my　neck　on　the　storm　sill　of　the　door。　Does　ache　a　bit；　I　must　say。〃
　She　didn't　answer。　She　freed　her　other　arm；　caught　me　by　both　lapels；　stared　at　me　with　a　face　full　of　misery　and　put　her　forehead　on　my　shoulder。　Now　it　was　my　collar's　turn　to　bee　damp。　It　was　the　most　extraordinary　behaviour　for　a　wardress…that　her　function　was　to　keep　tabs　on　and　effectively　immobilise　me　I　was　increasingly　sure…but；　then；　she　was　the　most　extraordinary　wardress　I'd　ever　e　across。　And　the　nicest。　Dr。　Marlowe；　I　said；　the　lady　is　in　distress　and　you　are　but　human。　I　let　my　suspicions　take　five　and　stroked　the　tangled　yellow　hair。　I'd　been　led　to　believe；　I　forgot　by　what　or　by　whom；　that　nothing　was　as　conducive　to　the　calming　of　upset　feminine　feelings　as　that　soothing　gesture：　only　seconds　later　I　was　wondering　where　I'd　picked　up　this　piece　of　obviously　blatant　misinformation　for　she　suddenly　pushed　herself　upright　and　struck　me　twice　on　the　shoulder　with　the　base　of　her　clenched　left　fist。　I　was　more　than　ever　convinced　that　she　wasn't　made　of　swansdown。
　〃Don't　do　that；〃　she　said。　〃Don't　do　that。〃
　〃All　right；〃　I　said　agreeably。　I　won't　do　that。　I'm　sorry。〃
　〃No；　no；　please！　I'm　sorry。　I　don't　know　what　made　me…I　really…〃　She　stopped　speaking　although　her　lips　kept　on　moving　and　stared　at　me　with　tear…filled　eyes；　the　no　longer　beautiful　face　defenceless　and　defeated　and　full　of　despair：　it　made　me　feel　acutely　unfortable　for　I　do　not　like　to　see　proud　and　self…contained　people　thus　reduced。　There　was　a　quick　indrawing　of　breath　then；　astonishingly；　she　had　her　arms　wound　round　my　neck　and　so　tightly　that　it　would　appear　that　she　was　bent　upon　my　instant　asphyxiation。　She　wept　in　silence；　her　shoulders　shaking。
　Splendidly　done；　I　thought　approvingly；　quite　splendidly　done。　Irrespective　of　for　whose　benefit　it　might　be…'and　then　I　despised　myself　for　my　cynicism。　Quite　apart　from　the　fact　that　her　acknowledged　limitations　as　an　actress　put　such　a　performance　out　of　the　question　I　was　convinced；　without　knowing　why　I　was　convinced；　that　what　I　was　seeing　was　genuine　uninhibited　emotion。　And　what　on　earth　had　she　to　gain　by　pretending　to　lower　her　defences　in　front　of　me？
　For　whom；　then；　the　tears？　Not　for　me；　of　that　I　was　certain；　why　in　the　world　for　me：　I　scarcely　knew　her；　she　scarcely　knew　me；　I　was　only　a　shoulder　to　cry　on；　likely　enough　I　was　only　a　doctor's　shoulder　to　cry　on；　people　have　the　oddest　misconceptions　about　doctors　and　maybe　their　shoulders　are　regarded　as　being　more　reliable　and　forting　than　the　average。　Or　more　absorbent。　Nor　were　the　tears　for　herself；　I　was　equally　certain　of　that；　to　survive；　intact；　the　kind　of　upbringing　shed　hinted　she'd　had；　one　had　to　be　possessed　of　an　unusual　degree　of　self…reliance　and　mental　toughness　that　almost　automatically　excluded　considerations　of　self…pity。　So　for　whom；　then；　the　tears？
　I　didn't　know　and；　at　that　moment；　I　hardly　cared。　In　normal　circumstances　and　with　no　other　matter　so　significantly　important　as　to　engage　my　attention；　so　lovely　a　girl　in　such　obvious　distress　would　have　had　my　plete　and　undivided　concern；　but　the　circumstances　were　abnormal　and　my　thoughts　were　elsewhere　engaged　with　an　intensity　that　made　Mary　Stuart's　odd　behaviour　seem　relatively　unimportant。
　I　couldn't　keep　my　eyes　from　the　bottle　of　Scotch　by　the　captain's　table。
　When　Halliday　had　had；　at　my　insistence　as　I　now　bitterly　recalled；　his　first　drink；　the　bottle　had　been　about　a　third　full：　after　his　second　drink　it　had　been　about　a　quarter　full：　and　now　it　was　half　full。　The　quiet　and　violent　man　who　had　so　recently　switched　off　the　lights　and　moved　through　the　saloon　had　switched　bottles　and；　for　good　measure；　had　removed　the　glass　that　Halliday　had　used。　Mary　Stuart　said　something；　her　voice　so　muffled　and　indistinct　that　I　couldn't　make　it　out：　what　with　salt　tears　and　salt　blood　this　night's　work　was　going　to　cost　me　a　new　shirt。　I　said：　〃What？〃
　She　moved　her　head；　enough　to　enable　her　to　speak　more　clearly；　but　not　enough　to　let　me　see　her　face。
　〃I'm　sorry。　I'm　sorry　I　was　such　a　fool。　Will　you　forgive　me？〃
　I　squeezed　her　shoulder　in　what　was　more　or　less　an　automatic　gesture；　my　eyes　and　my　thoughts　were　still　on　that　bottle；　but　she　seemed　to　take　it　as　sufficient　answer。　She　said　hesitantly：　〃Are　you　going　to　sleep　again？〃　She　hadn't　stopped　being　as　foolish　as　she　thought：　or　perhaps　she　wasn't　being　foolish　at　all。
　〃No；　Mary　dear；　I'm　not　going　to　sleep　again。〃　Whatever　tone　of　firm　resolution　my　tone　carried；　it　was　superfluous：　the　throbbing　pain　in　my　neck　was　sufficient　guarantee　of　my　wakefulness。
　〃Well；　that's　all　right　then。〃　I　didn't　ask　what　this　cryptic　remark　was　intended　to　convey。　Physically；　we　couldn't　have　been　closer　but　mentally　I　was　no　longer　with　her。　I　was　with　Halliday；　the　man　whom　I　had　thought　had　e　to　kill　me；　the　man　I'd　practically　forced　to　have　a　drink；　the　man　who'd　drunk　what　had　been　intended　for　me。
　I　knew　I　would　never　see　him　again。　Not　alive。
　
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　Dawn；　in　those　high　latitudes　and　at　that　time　of　year；　did　not　e　until　half…past　ten　in　the　morning；　and　it　was　then　that　we　buried　the　three　dead　men；　Antonio　and　Moxen　and　Scott；　and　surely　their　shades　would　have　forgiven　us　for　the　almost　indecent　dispatch　with　which　their　funerals　were　carried　out；　for　that　driving　blizzard　was　still　at　its　height；　the　wind　was　full　of　razored　knives　and　struck　through　both　clothes　and　flesh　and　laid　its　icy　fingers　on　the　marrow。　Captain　Imrie；　a　large　and　brassbound　Bible　in　his　mittened　hands；　read　swiftly　through　the　burial　service　or　at　least　I　assumed　he　did；　he　could　have　been　reading　the　Sermon　on　the　Mount　for　all　I　could　tell；　the　wind　just　plucked　the　inaudible　words　from　his　mouth　and　carried　them　out　over　the　grey…white　desolation　of　waters。　Three　times　a　canvas…wrapped　bundle　slid　smoothly　out　from　beneath　the　Morning　Rose's　only　Union　flag；　three　times　a　bundle　vanished　soundlessly　beneath　the　surface　of　the　sea：　we　could　see　the　splashes　but　not　hear　them　for　our　cars　were　full　of　the　high　and　lonely　lament　of　the　wind's　requiem