|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 93
Nicol Brinn dropped his cigar at his feet and set his heel upon
it. A bitter-sweet memory which had been with him for seven years
arose again in his mind. There is a kind of mountain owl in
certain parts of northern India which possesses a curiously high,
plaintive note. He wondered if he could remember and reproduce
that note.
He made the attempt, repeating the cry three times. At the third
repetition the light in the first floor window went out. He heard
the sound of the window being gently opened. Then a voice--a
voice which held the sweetest music in the world for the man who
listened below--spoke softly:
"Nicol!"
"Naida!" he called. "Come down to me. You must. Don't answer. I
will wait here."
"Promise you will let me return!"
He hesitated.
"Promise!"
"I promise."
CHAPTER XXIX. THE CATASTROPHE
The first faint spears of morning creeping through the trees
which surrounded Hillside revealed two figures upon a rustic
bench in the little orchard adjoining the house. A pair
incongruous enough--this dark-eyed Eastern woman, wrapped in a
long fur cloak, and Nicol Brinn, gaunt, unshaven, fantastic in
his evening dress, revealed now in the gray morning light.
"Look!" whispered Naida. "It is the dawn. I must go!"
Nicol Brinn clenched his teeth tightly but made no reply.
"You promised," she said, and although her voice was very tender
she strove to detach his arm, which was locked about her
shoulders.
He nodded grimly.
"I'll keep my word. I made a contract with hell with my eyes
open, and I'll stick to it." He stood up suddenly. "Go back,
Naida!" he said. "Go back! You have my promise, now, and I'm
helpless. But at last I see a way, and I'm going to take it."
"What do you mean?" she cried, standing up and clutching his arm.
"Never mind." His tone was cool again. "Just go back."
"You would not--" she began.
"I never broke my word in my life, and even now I'm not going to
begin. While you live I stay silent."
In the growing light Naida looked about her affrightedly. Then,
throwing her arms impulsively around Brinn, she kissed him--a
caress that was passionate but sexless; rather the kiss of a
mother who parts with a beloved son than that which a woman
bestows upon the man she loves; an act of renunciation.
He uttered a low cry and would have seized her in his arms but,
lithely evading him, she turned, stifling a sob, and darted away
through the trees toward the house.
For long he stood looking after her, fists clenched and his face
very gray in the morning light. Some small inner voice told him
that his new plan, and the others which he had built upon it,
must crumble and fall as a castle of sand. He groaned and,
turning aside, made his way through the shrubbery to the
highroad.
He was become accessory to a murder; for he had learned for what
reason and by what means Sir Charles Abingdon had been
assassinated. He had even learned the identity of his assassin;
had learned that the dreaded being called Fire-Tongue in India
was known and respected throughout the civilized world as His
Excellency Ormuz Khan!
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|