Mrs. Keith's anxiety displayed itself differently. She was frankly worried, and mentioned it. By the time the fish had been reached conversation at the table had fixed itself definitely on the one topic.
"It isn't the car this time, at any rate," said Mr. Keith. "It hasn't been out to-day."
"I can't understand it," said Mrs. Keith for the twentieth time. And that was the farthest point reached in the investigation of the mystery.
By the time dinner was over a spirit of unrest was abroad. The company sat about in uneasy groups. Snooker-pool was, if not forgotten, at any rate shelved. Somebody suggested search-parties, and one or two of the moustache-tuggers wandered rather aimlessly out into the darkness.
Martin was standing in the porch with Mr. Keith when Keggs approached. As his eyes lit on him, Martin was conscious of a sudden solidifying of the vague suspicion which had been forming in his mind. And yet that suspicion seemed so wild. How could Keggs, with the worst intentions, have had anything to do with this? He could not forcibly have abducted the missing pair and kept them under lock and key. He could not have stunned them and left them in a ditch. Nevertheless, looking at him standing there in his attitude of deferential dignity, with the light from the open door shining on his bald head, Martin felt perfectly certain that he had in some mysterious fashion engineered the whole thing.
"Might I have a word, sir, if you are at leisure?"
"Well, Keggs?"
"Miss Elsa, sir."
"Yes?"
Keggs's voice took on a sympathetic softness.
"It was not my place, sir, to make any remark while in the dining-room, but I could not 'elp but hoverhear the conversation. I gathered from remarks that was passed that you was somewhat hat a loss to account for Miss Elsa's non-appearance, sir."
Mr. Keith laughed shortly.
"You gathered that, eh?"
Keggs bowed.
"I think, sir, that possibly I may be hable to throw light on the matter."
"What!" cried Mr. Keith. "Great Scott, man! then why didn't you say so at the time? Where is she?"
"It was not my place, sir, to henter into the conversation of the dinner-table," said the butler, with a touch of reproof. "If I might speak now, sir?"
Mr. Keith clutched at his forehead.
"Heavens above! Do you want a signed permit to tell me where my daughter is? Get on, man, get on!"
"I think it 'ighly possible, sir, that Miss Elsa and Mr. Barstowe may be on the hisland in the lake, sir."
About half a mile from the house was a picturesque strip of water, some fifteen hundred yards in width and a little less in length, in the centre of which stood a small and densely wooded island. It was a favourite haunt of visitors at the house when there was nothing else to engage their attention, but during the past week, with shooting to fill up the days, it had been neglected.
"On the island?" said Mr. Keith. "What put that idea into your head?"
"I 'appened to be rowing on the lake this morning, sir. I frequently row of a morning, sir, when there are no duties to detain me in the 'ouse. I find the hexercise hadmirable for the 'ealth. I walk briskly to the boat-'ouse, and-"
"Yes, yes. I don't want a schedule of your daily exercises. Out out the athletic reminiscences and come to the point."
"As I was rowing on the lake this morning, sir, I 'appened to see a boat 'itched up to a tree on the hisland. I think that possibly Miss Elsa and Mr. Barstowe might 'ave taken a row out there. Mr. Barstowe would wish to see the hisland, sir, bein' romantic."
"But you say you saw the boat there this morning?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, it doesn't take all day to explore a small island. What's kept them all this while?"
"It is possible, sir, that the rope might not have 'eld. Mr. Barstowe, if I might say so, sir, is one of those himpetuous literary pussons, and possibly he homitted to see that the knot was hadequately tied. Or"-his eye, grave and inscrutable, rested for a moment on Martin's-"some party might 'ave come along and huntied it a-puppus."
"Untied it on purpose?" said Mr. Keith. "What on earth for?"
Keggs shook his head deprecatingly, as one who, realising his limitations, declines to attempt to probe the hidden sources of human actions.
"I thought it right, sir, to let you know," he said.
"Right? I should say so. If Elsa has been kept starving all day on that island by that long-haired-Here, come along, Martin."
He dashed off excitedly into the night. Martin remained for a moment gazing fixedly at the butler.
"I 'ope, sir," said Keggs, cordially, "that my hinformation will prove of genuine hassistance."
"Do you know what I should like to do to you?" said Martin slowly.
"I think I 'ear Mr. Keith calling you, sir."
"I should like to take you by the scruff of your neck and-"
"There, sir! Didn't you 'ear 'im then? Quite distinct it was."
Martin gave up the struggle with a sense of blank futility. What could you do with a man like this? It was like quarrelling with Westminster Abbey.
"I should 'urry, sir," suggested Keggs, respectfully. "I think Mr. Keith must have met with some haccident."
His surmise proved correct. When Martin came up he found his host seated on the ground in evident pain.
"Twisted my ankle in a hole," he explained, briefly. "Give me an arm back to the house, there's a good fellow, and then run on down to the lake and see if what Keggs said is true."
Martin did as requested-so far, that is to say, as the first half of the commission was concerned. As regarded the second, he took it upon himself to make certain changes. Having seen Mr. Keith to his room, he put the fitting-out of the relief ship into the hands of a group of his fellow-guests whom he discovered in the porch. Elsa's feeling towards her rescuer might be one of unmixed gratitude; but it might, on the other hand, be one of resentment. He did not wish her to connect him in her mind with the episode in any way whatsoever. Martin had once released a dog from a trap, and the dog had bitten
him. He had been on an errand of mercy, but the dog had connected him with his sufferings and acted accordingly. It occurred to Martin that Elsa's frame of mind would be uncommonly like that dog's.
The rescue-party set off. Martin lit a cigarette, and waited in the porch.
It seemed a very long time before anything happened, but at last, as he was lighting his fifth cigarette, there came from the darkness the sound of voices. They drew nearer. Someone shouted:
"It's all right. We've found them."
Martin threw away his cigarette and went indoors.
Elsa Keith sat up as her mother came into the room. Two nights and a day had passed since she had taken to her bed.
"How are you feeling to-day, dear?"
"Has he gone, mother?"
"Who?"
"Mr. Barstowe?"
"Yes, dear. He left this morning. He said he had business with his publisher in London."
"Then I can get up," said Elsa, thankfully.
"I think you're a little hard on poor Mr. Barstowe, Elsa. It was just an accident, you know. It was not his fault that the boat slipped away."
"It was, it was, it was!" cried Elsa, thumping the pillow malignantly. "I believe he did it on purpose, so that he could read me his horrid poetry without my having a chance to escape. I believe that's the only way he can get people to listen to it."
"But you used to like it, darling. You said he had such a musical voice."
"Musical voice!" The pillow became a shapeless heap. "Mother, it was like a nightmare! If I had seen him again I should have had hysterics. It was awful! If he had been even the least bit upset himself I think I could have borne up. But he enjoyed it! He revelled in it! He said it was like Omar Khayyam in the Wilderness and Shelley's Epipsychidion, whatever that is; and he prattled on and on and read and read and read till my head began to split. Mother"-her voice sank to a whisper-"I hit him!"
"Elsa!"
"I did!" she went on, defiantly. "I hit him as hard as I could, and he-he"-she broke off into a little gurgle of laughter-"he tripped over a bush and fell right down; and I wasn't a bit ashamed. I didn't think it unladylike or anything. I was just as proud as I could be. And it stopped him talking."