I went back to my bed.
I was fully awake now. Fantasy receded. There was a logical explanation to everything.
NIGHT ON A LONELY ISLAND
Milton had rowed me to the small island where Magda had her plantation. Felicity had at first said she would come, which showed how much better she was; but at the last moment she had felt unable to face strangers. I did not attempt to persuade her because I felt she must be left until she was ready. She seemed to be progressing to some extent and I did not want to reverse that.
So here I was alone with Milton watching him as he pulled the oars with such ease that he made it seem effortless.
There was no wind. It had dropped that evening—but there was a faint mist in the air and the silence was broken only by the swish of the oars in the water.
I was intrigued at the prospect of seeing Magda Manuel in her own home. I have to confess that I felt a few twinges of jealousy. She had seemed to me so poised, so beautiful when she had called at the hotel.
I asked Milton as we rowed across: "She is a great friend of yours, isn't she?"
And he replied enigmatically: "A very great friend."
The distance between the islands was not great and in a short time we were there. Milton shipped the oars, leaped out and helped me to alight.
I was wearing a loose pale lavender-coloured dress which I had bought in Sydney for Felicity's wedding. It was cool and suited to the climate. About my neck was a necklace which Granny M had given me on my seventeenth birthday; it consisted of amethysts set in gold which matched my dress perfectly. I had taken great pains with my appearance.
The house was set back from the beach and, like Milton's, was surrounded by sugar canes. It was a white building, smaller than Milton's but otherwise not unlike it.
There were three steps to the porch and she was at the top of these waiting to greet us. She looked elegant in the extreme and was wearing white again. I wondered if it was a sort of mourning for her husband who was recently dead. I knew there were some people who wore white rather than the black we wore at home.
This white dress was low-cut; it accentuated her small waist and perfect figure. A thick gold necklace was tight about her neck-choker fashion—and she wore thick gold bangles. Creole earrings completed the picture.
Beside her stood a man, tall and if not conventionally good-looking, very pleasant.
Her welcome was warm.
"How glad I am to see you at last," she said. "I meant to ask you before, but I have been to Sydney on business. We have to make these trips now and then. By the way this is George ... Mr. Callerby."
He said: "How do you do?" and bowed.
"I was afraid there was going to be a mist which would prevent your coming," said Magda.
"There is a faint one in the air," replied Milton, "but it would have to be very thick to deter us."
She laughed and took us into a room—very elegantly furnished as I felt everything about her would be. It had french windows opening onto a grassy lawn which went straight down to the sea, which at this time of the evening was touched with the red of sunset. The sun was now like a great red ball lying on the horizon. Soon it would drop from sight and darkness would be upon us.
She served us with the usual drink with which I was now familiar, and she asked about my impressions of the islands.
I told her how they fascinated me.
"What do you find most interesting?" asked George Callerby.
"The people," I replied. "Undoubtedly the people. They seem happy ... and contented."
"They are not always so," she said. "Isn't that true, Milton?"
"We have our troubles ... now and then."
"It's the sun. There it is up there shining down fiercely most of the time. Who wants to work when the sun is shining?"
"But they always seem to be laughing," I pointed out.
"Laughter does not always mean amusement," Magda explained.
"That's true," agreed Milton. "You'd never get to know these people even if you spent a lifetime here."
"You manage them very well, Milton," said George Callerby.
"I've found the recipe. They have to be a little unsure of you, a little afraid of you ... and at the same time you have to be on friendly terms. It's the right mixture of the two. It takes some acquiring. I learned it from my father."
"And Miss Mallory is such a newcomer to the islands," said Magda.
"How long do you intend to stay, Miss Mallory?" asked George Callerby.
I hesitated. I was aware of Milton who was watching me rather ironically. I said: "My travelling companion has been ill. I want to wait until she is better before she undergoes the ordeal of a long journey."
"Yes, I heard how ill she was. Our servants discover everything for us. They go over to Cariba for the markets and there they glean all that is happening and bring the news back to us. So we heard about her and of course her involvement in that terrible case."
I could imagine that everything about us was known and that Magda was watching me intently—and Milton, too. I wondered what she was thinking behind those long languishing eyes.
"Shall we go in to dinner," she asked. "There has been great excitement in the kitchen. They have been discussing the meal all day long. I leave it to them, of course. Interference would be fatal. They would giggle if I suggested anything and if I insisted it would be spoilt... just to teach me a lesson. So I leave well alone."
We went into another room. It was dark now and big oil lamps had been lighted. A net was drawn across the windows and one of the servants drew the curtains. This shut out the beautiful view but I had been here long enough to know that it was better to forget the scenery rather than endure the intrusion of certain insects.
Turtle soup was served. It was delicious. Fish followed. I was getting used to the many types of fish on the islands which were quite different from anything we had at home. This was followed by alligator steaks which were palatable and no doubt owed much to the spices with which they were garnished.
But I was far more interested in the company than the food.
Seated at the head of the table was Magda, looking mysterious in the lamplight. Every time I looked up I caught her eyes on me speculatively. I imagined she was wondering about my relationship with Milton as I was about hers. There was no doubt in my mind that she entertained rather special feelings for him and she was very curious about me.
They asked a great many questions about England. George Callerby had come out about eight years before and had been working on a station near Sydney. He had apparently met Milton there and it was Milton who had suggested that he come and manage the plantation.
"George came at the right time for us," said Magda. "We were so grateful to Milton for bringing us George."
She smiled her seductive smile first at Milton and then at George. "It was wonderful for us," she added.
"For me, too," said George.
"My husband you see had had this accident."
Milton put in: "You were talking a short while ago about the contented workers. Well, these were not so contented. Do you mind if I tell Annalice, Magda?"
"No, please tell Miss Mallory ... if she is interested."
"I am enormously interested."
"And may I suggest," said Milton, "that before we go any further we dispense with formality. Let it be Annalice and Magda... and George. We are all friends together. Miss This and Mr. That ... it is quite unnecessary in the circumstances."
Magda looked at me. "Do you agree?"
"Why yes, of course."
"All right, then. Tell Annalice, Milton."
He turned to me. "One of the workers put a stone in the grinding mill. Jose did not understand what was wrong. He tried to put it right. The thing exploded and he was badly crippled."