He took my cloak and fastened it more tightly about me.
"It's chilly," he said. "It can turn really cold with the mist."
He helped me into the boat, pushed it out and leaped in. Magda and George stood on the beach waving.
"Are you sure you should go?" called Magda.
"Quite sure," replied Milton.
And then we were skimming over the water.
"Well?" he said.
"It was a most interesting evening."
"Yes, I could see you were interested."
"She is a fascinating woman."
"I agree."
"And she runs that plantation with the help of George Callerby. That's very unusual for a woman."
He looked at me almost maliciously. "She has good friends."
"You, for instance."
"I am gratified to be one of them."
"A very special friend, I gathered."
"Yes, you could say that."
I was silent.
"Cold?" he asked.
"Yes, a little."
"This mist is a curse."
"Is it unusual?"
"Well, it is not all that common. But if we once get it, it seems to be a feature of the season."
"It seems to be thickening."
"I believe you are a little uneasy. Haven't you learned yet that you can trust yourself with me?"
"I am not entirely convinced."
"Don't worry. Even if we drift out to sea you'll be safe with me."
He rowed in silence for a while. Then he shipped oars and looked about him.
"Where is Cariba? We should be there by now."
"So you are lost."
He did not answer but began to row again. After a few minutes land loomed out of the mist.
"It looks familiar," I said. "But it is not the harbour."
"It's not Cariba," he said. "I'm going to pull up here. It's no use going on in this mist."
"Not Cariba! What is it then?"
"It's the little one. We're some way from Cariba. It would be foolish to attempt to get there in this mist. It won't last long. It rarely does. I'm afraid you're going to be shipwrecked on an island with me."
"Oh no!"
"Oh yes. We have been around in a circle. I know exactly where we are now. We shall have to stay here until the mist lifts."
"That could be ... all night."
He was looking at me with some amusement. "Perhaps," he said.
I thought to myself: I believe he has arranged this. I believe he knew where we were all the time. Excitement and anger were fighting with each other. It was typical of him. He was not to be trusted.
The boat scraped on the sand; he jumped into the shallow water and picking me up waded ashore.
"I'll have to pull up the boat," he said. "We don't want it washed away. Then we'll go and find shelter."
"Are there people on this island?"
He grinned at me and shook his head.
"It's about half a mile long and less than that wide. Just a rock really sticking up out of the sea. It used to be much bigger, but the sea encroached."
"Where could we find shelter here?"
"There's an old boathouse if I remember rightly. At least it used to be here. I came here in my extreme youth. We'll see if it is still there and if it is it will provide shelter. Come on. Give me your hand."
I did and he pulled me along with him.
Suddenly he put his arm round me.
"You're faltering," he said. "You're reluctant. You are just a little uneasy."
"It has hardly been a comfortable journey."
"I promise you comfort soon. Come with me."
We went a short way up the incline.
"A little hilly," he said. "Thank Heaven for that. If it hadn't been the sea might have claimed the lot. And yes... there is the old boathouse."
"Why should anyone want a boathouse on an island where no one lives?"
"It's a relic of the past ... of the days when people did live here. That's what I was always told."
The sand was getting into my shoes and it was difficult to walk. He lifted me under his arm as though I were a parcel and carried DM along.
"Put me down," I said. "I'm too heavy."
"Light as a feather," he retorted, ignoring my request. "Ah, there it is. A little more dilapidated than when I last saw it, but what can you expect."
He set me on my feet and pushed open the door. It was almost falling off its hinges.
A dark long object was there. I looked closer. It was a canoe.
"It's still here," he cried. "Leave the door open or we won't see a thing. I used to lie in this when I was a boy and pretend that I was
sailing on the high seas. It's quite comfortable. They knew how to make these things. I reckon it is more than fifty years old. They don't look solid, but they are."
He put an arm round me and said: "We shall be comfortable here."
I drew away from him.
"Don't go out there. You'll be cold. It will be warm and cosy in here. We'll make a comfortable resting place in the canoe while we wait for the mist to rise."
"They'll be wondering where I am."
"They won't until morning."
"I should have said good night to Felicity. She'll be very worried."
"She knows you are with me."
"That might make her very uneasy."
He laughed aloud. Then he said: "They'll think we stayed at Magda's. They'll see the mist. They'll say no one would attempt the journey back in this."
"You did."
"Well, I attempt many things. Come on. We'll make it cosy. We'll make a bed for ourselves in the canoe."
"Oh no."
"Isn't it time?" he asked. "How long are you going to keep me at bay?"
"I believe you arranged this."
"You give me more credit than I deserve. Brilliant as I am, I cannot control the weather."
"I think you could have got us back to Cariba."
"Do you?"
"Yes, and I think you brought us here deliberately."
"And you would be pleased at that?"
"Pleased! I wanted to go back to the hotel."
"You will find our canoe a little more interesting than your virgin couch."
"You ... planned this."
"I could not arrange the mist, as I told you."
"You seized the opportunity."
"I always seize my opportunities."
He put an arm round me and kissed me. Somewhat to my alarm I was responding before I withdrew myself with a show of indignation. I could not get Magda Manuel out of my mind and I was realizing that I did not trust myself any more than I trusted him. It would be so easy to forget everything but that I was here alone with him. In truth it was where I wanted to be... alone with him... but I was afraid.
I was haunted, partly by my obligations to Raymond, but more I think by my experiences on Lion Island. It was almost as though Ann Alice was there urging me to be strong, not to give way to impulse. She had not haunted me, brought me across the world for this. I had met him once... and I should see him again. During that brief hour we had spent together something had happened to me. I knew as sure as I stood on this island that I had not seen the last of Magnus Perrensen.
I was not alone on this desert island with Milton Harrington; Ann Alice was there with me.
He went on kissing me. He was saying: "Don't be afraid. This was inevitable ... from the moment we met. I knew you were the one for me... and you knew it, too, didn't you? It happens like that sometimes."
For a moment I lay against him. Go away, Ann Alice, I thought. I am not you, I am myself. Your life ended in that walled-up room: but I am here, alive and I want to be with this man, because it is true that I love him—if loving is wanting to be with him, close to him, sharing his life.
He was quick to sense my mood. He picked me up in his arms and set me down in the canoe.