Текст книги "The Shadow of Dr Syn"

Автор книги: Russell Thorndike

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Then further down that same page: ‘I watched him today through Mr. Mipps’s spy-glass. He looked so lonely on the Roman Steps. I know that I could comfort him. I wish I could sit there for ever by his side.’ Here the tears blurred his vision, and he turned and seemed indeed to see her by his side in the sunshine with that fiery halo round her laughing face. But she vanished and once more he sought her in the book. ‘Today Mr. Mipps told me another wonderful story about the pirate Captain Clegg. How he escaped and saved Mr. Mipps by doing a trick with a tablecloth. I practised it and broke Mama’s best Sèvres cup. She was very cross. But I don’t mind. It does work. I wish I could make up my mind which I love best – The Scarecrow, Captain Clegg or Doctor Syn. I still think Doctor Syn.’

Aunt Agatha watched him as he turned to the last entry. Now the writing was fine and mature. Then he looked up towards the Knoll with an expression of peace and yet determination, and Aunt Agatha knew what was in his mind, for she too had read those last words.

‘The Scarecrow will always ride while Aldington Knoll stands high,’ and below: ‘My riddle has been answered. I love all three.’

Aunt Agatha leant over and with a firm little hand closed the book. ‘She was right – you cannot quit. No more talk of confessions. If you must turn over a new leaf then let this be your guide. She too took the adventurous way. We’re all of us pirates,’ she said, and her eyes were very bright and very wise, ‘bearing down upon each other in full sail. Flashing broadsides. Glorious encounter. Then we part for distant seas.’

He looked at her. His eyebrow quivered. Then he rose to his full height and sweeping her an elaborate bow said: ‘Welcome, Pirate. You, Agatha Gordon of Beldorney and Kildrummy, are worthy of the Brotherhood.’

Miss Gordon smiled up at him, well pleased. She knew that she had won this ‘glorious encounter’.

* * * * *

That night the library at the Vicarage once more resembled Clegg’s cabin in the good ship Imogene. Plans were being made. The room was heavy with tobacco smoke. The brandy was good. Four pairs of feet were on the table and the chairs were tilted back. Four pairs. Top boots – Gentleman James; buckled shoes – Doctor Syn; sea boots – Didymus Mipps; and a very small pair of elegant French slippers – Agatha Gordon. Glasses were raised and Clegg’s pirate song roared out from four throats:

‘Here’s to the feet what have walked the plank. Yo-ho for the dead man’s throttle….’

THE END