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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"

Rogers.
I walked forward hardily enough; I had drunk my fill of terror, and
could have faced the Captain had he been thrice as formidable.
He did not help me at all, but stood with a thunderous frown, very
quiet and self-restrained, while I plodded my way up to him, over the
sand.
I think that, as I drew close, my battered appearance must have
shocked him a little. But his frown did not relax, and the muscles
of his mouth grew, if anything, tenser.
"You appear to have been in the wars," he said quietly.
"Has anything happened to the schooner?"
"No, sir; at least not to my knowledge," was my answer; and he must
have; expected it, or he would have shown more perturbation.
"I saw her, not five minutes ago, lying at her moorings," I added,
with a nod towards the bend of the creek which hid her from us.
"Then why has Miss Belcher sent you?"
"She did not send me, sir."
"In other words, you have chosen to disobey orders?"
I suppose he read some sullenness in my attitude, for he repeated the
words sharply, in a tone that demanded an answer.
"I am sorry, sir; but all the same, it didn't seem fair to me to be
left on board without being consulted."
I heard him take a short breath, as though my impudence him in the
wind.


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