The voices grew nearer and nearer. Vague murmurings turned into coherent sound. A definite growl came from Faggis. An oath issued from the third officer. Thirty-five yards, thirty yards, twenty-five yards …
‘Damn the darkness!’
That was Greene. Twenty yards.
‘Black as hell!’
That was Faggis. Fifteen yards.
It is said that a chicken can run for a second or two after it has been decapitated. Similarly, Ben’s mind went on working after all was lost. While the fifteen yards became fourteen and the fourteen thirteen, two solutions occurred to him. One was to roar like a lion and the other was to make a noise like a carpet. Neither would have helped him, but he was still earnestly considering their respective merits when Faggis suddenly paused and saved the necessity of a decision.
‘Look here, Greene,’ said Faggis. ‘I wonder if we’re a couple of fools?’
‘Speak for your own half of the couple,’ replied Greene. ‘Come on!’
‘Maybe it’s your half’ll be the fool if you do go on,’ retorted Faggis. ‘However, don’t let me stop you.’
‘Hell! What’s the matter with you?’
‘I’m trying to grow wise in my old age, Greene,’ grunted Faggis. ‘D’you suppose we may be on our second wild goose chase?’
There was a short silence, broken by the splutter of a match. Greene was lighting a cigarette. While Ben was praying that its feeble illumination would not reveal him, it suddenly went out.
‘Hey! What’s that for?’ demanded Greene’s indignant voice.
‘For safety,’ came Faggis’s, in a lower key. ‘How d’you know Sims isn’t watching us?’
‘What do you mean?’ Greene’s voice was still tinged with indignation, but it was noticeably quieter.
‘What I say, Greene,’ answered Faggis. ‘He’s up to any trick, that blackguard. May be waiting up at the end there to pounce upon us and pitch us over.’
‘Like to see him try!’
‘Well, I wouldn’t! He’s got the gun! And he’s used it once since we last saw him, don’t forget.’
‘On that ugly blighter?’
‘Yep!’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. That was the fellow he expected to welcome us. It was the other darned blighter shot him.’
‘Bah! You’re guessing!’
‘And, of course, you know!’
‘No, I don’t know! And that’s why I’m wondering whether we’re a couple of fools to go on any farther till we do!’
‘What’s the alternative?’ demanded Greene.
‘Going back,’ answered Faggis. ‘Going back, and having a proper look round.’
Greene considered the suggestion. The men were clearly out of tune with each other, but neither could afford to ignore any proposal that might be good. Greene decided, however, that this proposal was not good.
‘I tell you, there’s no need to look round more than we’ve done already,’ he said. ‘It’s obvious that Sims sent us to the beach to get rid of us. That’s why we turned back, isn’t it? It’s obvious he wanted us out of the way so that he’d have time to clear off with the girl—’
‘With both girls, you mean,’ corrected Sims. ‘And the scarecrow. The whole damned lot of ’em. How’s he done it? And why’s he done it? If he’d wanted to get rid of us, wouldn’t he have got rid of them too?’
‘P’r’aps he did.’
‘Then where were they?’
‘Never heard of a precipice?’
‘Precipice your foot! He’s got the scarecrow bound up and gagged, and you suggest he unties him and throws him over a precipice. And that girl—d’you think she wouldn’t put up a fight—’
‘I tell you, you don’t know Sims—’
‘And I tell you, you’re too cocksure of your own little bit of knowledge, Greene! You talk about things being obvious, but nothing’s obvious! Except that something darned queer happened while we were away. How do we know that Sims didn’t have to sheer off for a while, and wait? Why, man,’ Faggis went on, developing his theory, ‘they may all be back at the cottage now, while we’re plodding on like a couple of silly rabbits … See here, Greene! Maybe that’s another of his little wheezes! Hey, yes! What about this? If he’s got into any trouble—or been cut off—or if it suited his purpose for any other reason, how do we know he’s not sneaking down to the beach, and making off again in the boat?’
‘And what about this?’ growled Greene, his indignation returning on the tide of his scepticism. ‘Are you doing any good by raising your voice and shouting your ideas to the world? You told me to be quiet just now, and here you are shouting like a cup-tie crowd!’
‘Oh, shut up—’
‘I’m not going to shut up. You talk about fools, Faggis, but the difference between you and me is that sometimes I stop being one. The trouble is, you’ve got no brain. You can stick a man in the back, but you need someone to tell you when and how to do it. You get the wind up—’
‘Wind up—’
‘… The wind up, I said, and I stick to it! All these mad half-baked ideas of yours are the result of the fear that’s working behind your drawl! I’ll tell you where I’m smarter than you, Faggis. I know when I’m in the presence of a superior, and you don’t. Sims is my superior, and I’m yours, and the sooner you realise it, the better it’ll be. Well, I’m going on. What are you going to do? If you want to turn back, don’t talk about it, but do it. I shan’t weep any tears.’
There came the sound of a sharp breath. An exclamation followed it.
‘Let go, you blasted fool!’ cried Greene.
‘Wind up, eh?’ drawled Faggis, but with fury beneath the drawl. ‘Carry on, Greene—but remember I can give you the wind up any moment I want to. Just like that! See?’
Another exclamation, low and sullen. A short silence. Then the third officer gulped:
‘Yes, we are fools, Faggis. Panic and silly pride can drive you to murder, and my own folly drives you into a panic. Well, that little scene’s over, so let’s see whether we can now behave like adults again, and get a move on!’
He had scarcely finished speaking when another little scene, waiting only ten yards away, was preluded by a sudden cracking sound.
‘What’s that?’ exclaimed Faggis sharply.
The sound was repeated, and now more loudly. A board seemed to be splitting somewhere, and the echoes in the V-shaped cleft ricochetted from rock to rock like thunder. The men swung round towards the point whence the noise appeared to come—ten yards ahead, where the track hit the deeply shadowed angle and twisted back on itself …
Crack! Split! Boom!
Then a pause. Then, a tiny crashing clatter, as the descending wood struck naked rock two thousand feet below.
‘Well?’ muttered Faggis.
But Greene was waiting no longer. He was hastening forward, and, as he hastened, there came another crack and another split, and more wood dropped swirling down into the void.
Greene did not know what was happening, but he had to know. Ever since he and Faggis had left the hut with the intention of returning to the beach he had been dogged by doubts and worried by ignorance. The return to the hut, despite its gruesome evidence of certain very definite happenings, did not remove the veil. They had left the hut again and had walked on into the veil. Greene had told Faggis that Sims was obviously double-crossing them, but this did not mean that he was certain of it in his own heart. It merely meant that with a man like Faggis—a man large-limbed and small-brained, and dangerous on account of both—definiteness was sometimes the only policy. You had to pretend to be sure, just to avoid following theories less probable or frankly impossible. Actually, Greene was certain of nothing beyond his own perplexity.
And now, on a track over which Sims might have travelled before them, a series of miniature explosions was occurring. The truth of these could be discovered, at least.
He reached the point from which the explosions came, with Faggis a couple of yards behind him. The track ended a short space before the extreme point of the cleft. It began again across a black chasm of space, some eight or nine feet distant, and spanning the chasm was a single, swaying board.
And even as they stared at the board, it vanished from their sight into the pool of velvet.
Then another sound fell upon their ears. It was probably the strangest sound that had ever been known by these primeval rocks. From the shadows across the chasm came a hysterical voice warbling:
‘There were three sailors of Bristol City,
There were three sailors of Bristol City,
And they were shipwrecked on the sea—
And they were shipwrecked on the sea-ee-ee!’