Chapter 15

"I do hope that you have no plan that will interfere with coming with us," he said to the physician. "We have a big boat chartered down here at the beach, and we're going to loaf along out to one of the 'desert islands' and camp for the day."

"That sounds like a most interesting program," said the young physician. His voice held a note of hesitation, and he looked swiftly, inquiringly, at me and back again. It was so carelessly done that I do not think any one noticed it, but I realized that he was waiting for me to join my voice to the invitation.

"Well, Dr. Pettit," Dicky came up at this juncture, "out for the day?"

His tone was cordial enough, but I, who knew every inflection of Dicky's voice, realized that he did not relish the appearance of Dr. Pettit upon the scene.

"Yes, I'm going down to the shore for a dip," the young physician returned. And then without the stiff dignity which I had seen in his professional manner, he acknowledged the introductions which I gave him to Grace Draper and the Durkees.

"I trust you will think it interesting enough to make it worth your while to join us," I said demurely, lifting my eyes to his and catching a swift flash of something which might be either relief or triumph in his steely gray ones.

"Indeed, I shall be very glad to accompany you," he said, smiling.

Our boat, a large, comfortable one, built on lines of usefulness, rather than beauty, slipped over the dancing blue waters of the bay like an enchanted thing. A neat striped awning was stretched over the rear of the boat beneath which we lounged at ease.

The boat sped on as lazily as our idle conversation, and finally we came in sight of a gleaming beach of sand, with seaweed so luxuriantly tangled that it looked like small clumps of bushes, with the calm, still water of the bay on one side, and the lazily rolling surf on the other.

"Behold our desert island!" Dicky exclaimed dramatically, springing to his feet.

Jim ran the boat skilfully up on the beach and grounded her. Harry Underwood stepped forward to assist me ashore, but Dr. Pettit, with unobtrusive quickness, was before him.

As I laid my hand in that of the young physician, Harry Underwood gave a hoarse stage laugh. "I told you so," he croaked maliciously; "I knew I had a rival on my hands."

As Harry Underwood uttered his jibing little speech, Dicky raised his head and looked fixedly at me. It was an amazed, questioning look, one that had in it something of the bewilderment of a child. In another instant he had turned away to answer a question of Grace Draper's.

I felt my heart beating madly. Was Dicky really taking notice of the attentions which Harry Underwood and Dr. Pettit were bestowing upon me? I had not time to ponder long, however, for Lillian Underwood seized my arm almost as soon as we stepped on shore and walked me away until we were out of earshot of the others.

"Did you see Dicky's face," she demanded breathlessly, "when Harry and that lovely doctor of yours were doing the rival gallant act? It was perfectly lovely to see his lordship so puzzled. That doctor friend of yours was certainly sent by Providence just at this time. Just keep up a judicious little flirtation with him and I'll wager that before the week's out Dicky will have forgotten such a girl as Grace Draper exists."

If it had not been for the memory of Lillian's advice ringing in my ears, I think I should have much astonished Dr. Pettit and Harry Underwood when they started into the surf with me.

The whole situation was most annoying to me. And, besides, it was so unutterably silly! I might have been any foolish school girl of seventeen, with a couple of immature youths vying for my smiles, for any reserve or dignity there was in the situation.

My fingers itched to astonish each of the smirking men with a sound box on the ear. But my fiercest anger was against Dicky. If he had been properly attentive to me, Mr. Underwood and Dr. Pettit would have had no opportunity, indeed would not have dared, to pay me the idiotic compliments, or to offer the silly attentions they had given me.

But Dicky and Grace Draper were romping in the surf, like two children, splashing water over each other, and running hand in hand toward the place far out on the sand--for it was low tide--where they could swim.

They might have been alone on the beach for anything their appearance showed to the contrary. And yet as I gazed I saw Dicky look past the girl in my direction, with a quick, furtive, watching glance.

As they went farther into the surf, he sent another glance over his shoulder toward me.

As I caught it, guessing that in all his apparent interest in Grace Draper he was yet watching me and my behavior, something seemed to snap in my brain.

I would give him something to watch!

With a swift movement I slipped a little bit away from the two men by my side, and, filling my hands with water, splashed it full into the face of Harry Underwood.

"Dare you to play blind man's buff," I said gayly, sending another handful into Dr. Pettit's face, and then slipping adroitly to one side I laughed with, I fancy, as much mischief as any hoyden of sixteen could have put into her voice, at the picture the men made trying to get the salt water out of their eyes.

I had no compunctions on the score of their discomfort, for I felt that I had a score to settle with each of them. The way in which each took my rudeness, however, was characteristic of the men.

Harry Underwood's face grew black for a minute, then it cleared and he laughed boisterously.

"You little devil," he said, "I'll pay you for that. Ever get kissed under water? Well, that's what will happen to you before this day is over."

Dr. Pettit's face did not change, but into his gray eyes came a little steely glint. He said nothing, only smiled at me. But there was something about both smile and eyes that made me more uncomfortable than Harry Underwood's bizarre threat.

I was so unskilled in this game of banter and flirtation that I was at a loss what to say. Recklessly I grasped at the first thing which came into my mind.

"You'll have to catch me first," I said, daringly, and turning, ran swiftly out toward the open sea. I am only a fair swimmer, but the sea was unusually calm, so that I went much farther than I otherwise would have dared.

When I found the water getting too deep for walking I started swimming. As I swam I looked over my shoulder. The two men were following me, both swimming easily. Dr. Pettit was in the lead, but Harry Underwood, with powerful strokes, was not far behind him. I concluded that Dr. Pettit had been the swifter runner, but that the other man was the better swimmer.

As I saw them coming toward me, I realized that I had given them a challenge which each in his own way would probably take up. I was dismayed. I felt that I could not bear the touch of either man's hand.

In another moment my punishment had come.

Dr. Pettit overtook me, stretched out his hand, just touched me with a caressing, protecting little gesture, and said in a low tone, "Don't be afraid, little girl: If you will accord me the privilege, I will see that your friend does not get a chance of fulfilling his threat."

I knew that he intended his words for my ear alone, but he had not counted on Harry Underwood's quick ear. That gentleman swam lazily toward us, saying as he passed us, with a malicious little grin:

"Better go slow upon that protecting-heroine-from-villain stunt. I see Friend Husband is getting a bit restless."

He forged on into the surf, with long, powerful strokes that yet had the curious appearance of indolence which invests every action of his.

Startled at his words, I looked toward the place where I had last seen Dicky romping in the waves with Grace Draper.

The girl was swimming by herself. Dicky, with rapid strokes, was coming toward us.

"For the love of heaven, Madge!" he said, angrily, as he came up to us. "Haven't you any more sense than to come away out here? This sea is calm, but it is treacherous, and you are farther out than you have ever gone before. Come back with me this minute."

The sight of Grace Draper swimming by herself gave me an inspiration. The game which Lillian had advised me to play was certainly succeeding. I would keep it up.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" I demanded, assuming an indignation I did not feel. "Dr. Pettit was saying nothing to me that could possibly interest you." I felt a little twinge of conscience at the fib, but I had too much at stake to hesitate over a quibble. "As for casting sheep's eyes, as you so elegantly express it, you've been doing so much of it yourself that I suppose it is natural for you to accuse other people of it."

"Now what do you mean by that?" Dicky demanded, staring at me with such an innocent air that I could have laughed if I had not been thoroughly angry at his silly attempt to misunderstand me.

"Don't be silly, Dicky," I said, pettishly; "I can swim perfectly well out here and even if anything should happen, Dr. Pettit and Mr. Underwood are surely good swimmers enough to take care of me." I could not resist putting that last little barbed arrow into my quiver, for Dicky, while a good swimmer, even I could see, was not as skillful as either Mr. Underwood or Dr. Pettit.

Dicky waited a long moment before answering, then he spoke tensely, sternly:

"Madge, answer me, are you coming back with me now, or are you not?"

The tone in which he put the question was one which I could not brook, even at the risk of seriously offending Dicky. An angry refusal was upon my lips when Harry Underwood's voice saved me the necessity of a reply.

"There, there, Dicky-bird, keep your bathing suit on," he admonished, roughly; "of course, she'll go back, we'll all go back, a regular triumphal procession with beautiful heroine escorted by watchful husband, treacherous villain and faithful friend." He grinned at Dr. Pettit, and we all swam back to shallower water, Dr. Pettit and Mr. Underwood gradually edging off some distance away from Dicky and me.

I could not help smiling at the ludicrous aspect we must have presented. Dicky must have been watching me narrowly, for he suddenly growled:

"To the devil with Grace Draper!" Dicky cried, and his voice was louder, carried farther than he realized. "I'm not bothering about her. She's getting on my nerves anyway; but you happen to be my wife, and what you do is my concern, don't you forget that, my lady."

XXVII

"HOW NEARLY I LOST YOU!"

Dicky and I had been so engrossed in our quarrel that we had not noticed our proximity to Grace Draper. Whether she had purposely approached us or not, I could not tell. At any rate, when, after Dicky's outburst of jealous anger against Dr. Pettit and my retort concerning his model, he had cried out loudly, "To the devil with Grace Draper! I'm not bothering about her. She's getting on my nerves anyway," I heard a choking little gasp from behind me, and, turning swiftly, saw the girl standing quite near to us.

Except when excited, Grace Draper never has any color, but the usual clear pallor of her face had changed to a grayish whiteness. I had reason enough to hate the girl, I had schemed with Lillian to save Dicky from her influence, but in that moment, as I gazed at her, I felt nothing but deep pity for her.

For all the poise and pretence of the girl was stripped from her. She was a ghastly, pitiable sight, as she stood there, her big eyes fixed on Dicky, her breath coming unevenly in shuddering gasps.

Then she glanced at me and her eyes held mine for a moment, fascinated; then, with a little shrug of her shoulders, she turned away, and I knew that the danger of Dicky's realizing her agitation was passed.

"What are you looking at so earnestly?" Dicky demanded.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned swiftly, following my gaze, and catching sight of the retreating back of Grace Draper.

"Good Lord!" he gasped in consternation. "Do you suppose she heard what I said?"

"Oh, I'm sure she didn't," I replied mendaciously.

Dicky looked at me curiously. Whether he believed me or not I do not know. At any rate, he did not press the question.

Neither did he again refer to Dr. Pettit, to my sincere relief.

We made a merry picnic of our impromptu luncheon, and after it, when we were dried by the sun, we spent a comfortable lazy two hours lounging on the beach.

If I had not seen Grace Draper's blanched face and the terrible look in her eyes when she had heard Dicky's exclamation of indifference toward her, I would not have dreamed that her heart held any other emotion except that of happy enjoyment of the day. She laughed and chatted as if she had not a care in the world, directing much of her conversation to me. It crossed my mind that for some reason of her own she was trying to make it appear to every one that we were on especially friendly terms.

It was after one of Dicky's periodical trips to Jim's fire, which Harry Underwood did not allow him to forget, and his report that the dinner would be shortly forthcoming, that Grace Draper rose and said carelessly: "Suppose we all have another dip before dinner; there won't be time before we leave for a swim afterward, and the water is too fine to miss going in once more. What do you say, Mrs. Graham? Will you race me?"

I saw Lillian's quick little gesture of dissuasion, and through me there crept an indefinable shrinking from going with the girl, but the men were already chasing each other through the shallow water, and I did not wish to humiliate my guest by refusing to go with her.

"It can hardly be called a race," I answered quietly, "for you swim so much better than I, but I will do my best."

I followed her into the water with every appearance of enjoyment, and exerted every ounce of my strength to try to keep up with her rush through the waves.

I knew she was not exerting her full strength, for she is a magnificent swimmer, but I found that I had all I could do to keep pace with her. She seemed to be bent on showing off her skill to me, or else she was, trying to test my nerves by teasing me.

I knew that she was able to swim under the water when she chose, but that did not accustom me to the frequent sudden disappearances which she made, or to her equally sudden reappearances above the surface of the water.

She would dash on ahead of me a few yards, then her head would disappear beneath the waves. The next thing I knew she would bob up almost at my side. There was a fascination about this skill of hers which gripped me. I was so engrossed in watching her that I did not realize how far out we had gone until at one of her quick turns, I, following her, caught a glimpse of the beach.

To my overwrought imagination it seemed miles away. I suddenly felt an overwhelming terror of the cloudless sky, the rolling waves, even of the girl who had brought me out so far.

I looked wildly around for her, but could not see her anywhere. Evidently she was indulging in one of her underwater tricks. I turned blindly toward the shore. As I did so I felt a sudden jerk, a quick clutch at my foot, a clutch that dragged me down relentlessly.

I remembered gasping, struggling, fighting for life, with an awful sensation of being sunk in a gulf of blackness. I fancied I heard Lillian Underwood's voice in a piercing scream. Then I knew nothing more.

The next thing I remember was a voice. "There, she's coming out of it. Let me have that brandy," and then I felt a spoon inserted between my teeth and something fiery trickled gently drop by drop in my throat. The voice was that of Dr. Pettit.

With a gasp as the pungent liquid almost strangled me, I opened my eyes to find that the physician's arm was supporting my shoulder and his hand holding the spoon to my lips.

"Oh, thank God, thank God," some one groaned brokenly on the other side of me, and I turned my eyes to meet Dicky's face bent close to mine and working with emotion.

"She is all right now," the physician said, reassuringly. "She will suffer far more from the shock than from any real damage by her immersion. Get her into the tent." He turned to Mrs. Underwood and said: "Rub her down hard, and if there are any extra wraps in the party put them around her. Give her a stiff little dose of this." He handed Lillian the brandy flask. "Then bring her out into the sunshine again. She'll be all right in a little while."

Dicky picked me up in his arms as the physician spoke, as if I had been a child, and strode with me toward the improvised tent Dr. Pettit had indicated.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart, suppose I had lost you," he said brokenly, and then, manlike, reproachfully even in the intensity of his emotion: "What possessed you to go out so far? If it hadn't been for Grace Draper being on hand when you went down, you would never have come back. Harry and I were too far away when Lil screamed to be of any use. But by the time we got there Miss Draper had you by the hair and was towing you in."

My brain was too dazed to comprehend much of what Dicky was saying, but one remark smote on my brain like a sledge hammer.

Grace Draper had saved my life! Why, if I had any memory left at all, Grace Draper had--

Lillian came forward swiftly and placed a restraining finger on my lips.

"You mustn't talk yet," she admonished; then to Dicky, "Run away now, Dicky-bird, and give Mrs. Durkee and me a chance to take care of her." Little Mrs. Durkee's sweet, anxious face was close to Lillian's. "Yes, Dicky," she echoed, "hurry out now."

Dicky waited long enough to kiss me, a long, lingering, tender kiss that did more to revive me than the brandy, and then went obediently away while Mrs. Durkee and Lillian ministered to me as only tender and efficient women can.

When I was nearly dressed again, Lillian turned to Mrs. Durkee: "Would you mind getting a cup of coffee for this girl?" she asked. "I know Jim and Katie have some in preparation out there."

"Of course," Mrs. Durkee returned, and fluttered away.

She had no sooner gone than Lillian gathered me in her arms with a protecting, maternal gesture, as if I had been her own daughter restored to her.

"Quick," she demanded fiercely, "tell me just what happened out there when you went under. Did you get a cramp or what?"

I waited a moment before answering. The suspicion that had come to my brain was so horrible that I did not wish to utter it even to Lillian.

"I think it must have been the undertow," I said feebly. "I felt something like a clutch at my feet dragging me down."

Lillian's face hardened. Into her eyes came a revengeful gleam.

"Undertow!" she ejaculated, "you poor baby! Your undertow was that Draper devil's calculating hand!"

I stared at Lillian, horrified.

"But Lillian," I protested, faintly, "how is it that they all say she saved my life? If she really tried to drown me why didn't she let me go?"

"Got cold feet," returned Lillian, laconically. "You see she isn't naturally evil enough deliberately to plan to kill you. I give her credit for that with all her devilishness, but something happened today between her and Dicky. I don't know what it was that drove her nearly frantic. I saw her look at you two or three times in a way that chilled my blood. I didn't like the idea of your going out there with her, but I didn't see any way of stopping you.

"Now, there's one thing I want you to promise me," she went on, hurriedly. "Although I know you well enough to know it's something you would do anyway without a promise. I don't want you to hint to anyone, even Dicky, what you know of the Draper's attempt to put you out of commission. It's the chance I've been looking for, the winning card I needed so badly. I won't need to stay a week with you, my dear, as I thought when I first planned my little campaign to get Dicky out of the Draper's clutches. I can go home tonight if I wish to, with my mission accomplished."

"Why, what do you mean?" I asked.

"Just this," retorted Lillian, "that I'm going to spring the nicest little case of polite blackmail on Grace Draper before the day is over that you ever saw.

"I shall need you when I do it, so be prepared, although you won't need to say anything.

"But here comes Mrs. Durkee with the coffee. Do you think, after you drink it, you'll feel strong enough to have me tackle Grace Draper?"

I shivered inwardly, but bent my head in assent. Lillian had proved too good a friend of mine for me to go against her wishes in anything.

After I had drunk the steaming coffee, with Mrs. Durkee looking on in smiling approval, Lillian made another request of the cheery little woman.

"Would you mind asking Miss Draper to come here a moment?" she said quietly. "Mrs. Graham wants to thank her, and then do hunt up that husband of mine and tell him to rig up some sort of couch for Mrs. Graham, so she can lie down while we have our dinner. We can all take turns feeding her."

As Mrs. Durkee hurried out, eager to help in any way possible, Lillian turned to me grimly.

"That will keep her out of the way while we have our seance with the Draper. Now brace up, my dear; just nod or shake your head when I give you the cue."

It seemed hours, although in reality it was only a moment or two before Grace Draper parted the improvised sail curtains and stood before us. I think she knew something of what we wished, for her face held the grayish whiteness that had been there when she heard Dicky's impatient words concerning her. But her head was held high, her eyes were unflinching as she faced us.

"Miss Draper," Lillian began, her voice low and controlled, but deadly in its icy grimness, "we won't detain you but a moment, for we are going to get right down to brass tacks.

"I know exactly what happened out there in the surf a little while ago. I was watching from the shore, and saw enough to make me suspicious, and what I have learned from Mrs. Graham has confirmed my suspicions." She glanced toward me.

"You felt a hand clutch your foot and then drag you down, did you not, Madge?"

I nodded weakly, conscious only of the terrible burning eyes of Miss Draper fixed upon me.

"It is a lie," Miss Draper began, fiercely, but Lillian held up her hand in a gesture that appeared to cow the girl.

"Don't trouble either to deny or affirm it," she said icily. "There is but one thing I wish to hear from your lips; it is the answer to this question: Will you take the offer Mr. Underwood made you, to get you that theatrical engagement, and, having done this, will you keep out of Dicky Graham's way for every day of your life hereafter? I don't mind telling you that if you do this I shall keep my mouth closed about this thing; if you do not, I shall call the rest of the party here now and tell them what I know."

"Mr. Graham will not believe you," the girl said through stiff lips. Her attitude was like the final turning of an animal at bay.

"Don't fool yourself," Lillian retorted caustically. "I am Mr. Graham's oldest friend. He would believe me almost more quickly than he would his wife, for he might think that his wife was prejudiced against you.

"I am not a patient woman, Miss Draper. Don't try me too far. Take this offer, or take the consequences."

The girl stood with bent head for a long minute, as Lillian flared out her ultimatum, then she lifted it and looked steadily into Mrs. Underwood's eyes.

"Remember, I admit nothing," she said defiantly, "but, of course, I accept your offer. There is nothing else for me to do in the face of the very ingenious story which you two have concocted between you."

She turned and walked steadily out of the tent.

Her words, the blaze in her eyes, the very motion of her body, was magnificently insolent.

"She's a wonder!" Lillian admitted, drawing a deep breath, as the girl vanished. "I didn't think she had bravado enough to bluff it out like that."