Island in the Dawn (2 page)

The Irishman looked faintly relieved.

“Mr. Menzies? You can’t have dropped in just to see Mr. Menzies!
...
And, in any case, you’ve come to the wrong place!”

The little man explained, his brogue making his speech difficult to follow.

“Mr. Menzies doesn’t live here any more!
...
Not for a whole year, God Bless Ould Ireland! ‘Tis me, and Himself, who live here now! And Himself won’t be receiving pretty young ladies like yourself, Miss, at this hour of the morning
—
even if he could see them!”

“I—don’t know what you mean?” Felicity faltered, the heat making her head swim a little, while the news she had just received bewildered her. “Why is Mr. Menzies not here, and
—
who is ‘Himself’
...
?”

For answer a slender figure of a man appeared on the veranda that ran along the whole front of the house, and a huge Alsatian dog that was with
him
came bounding across the shaven turf to Felicity’s side.

“Come back, Bruno!” called a voice with a quiet whiplash of command in it, and the dog obeyed. Without even pausing to investigate the newcomer it returned to its master’s side, and that master put out a hand and kept it on the animal’s head. “Who is it, Michael?” The quiet voice wanted to know, and although he appeared to be staring at Felicity the latter knew that he did not see her
—
not merely because he wore dark glasses, but because the eyes behind the glasses were not functioning as they should.

CHAPTER TWO

FELICITY was conscious of a distinct sensation of shock as she stood there with the golden sunshine ail about her, the intoxicating scent of roses floating in the air. All this brilliance and loveliness, and a pair of eyes that didn’t function! It was in some way horrifying!

She moved forward across the lawn, and ascended the steps of the veranda. Stammeringly she explained why and how she came to be there, exactly who she was, and exactly who Cassandra was. She explained about their luggage on the jetty, and about Cassandra feeling the heat so much that she had had to remain where she was. But even as she added that little bit she realized that if Cassandra had been really overcome by the sudden onslaught of a climate to which they were unaccustomed, she would have sought the shade of the trees even if she hadn’t walked all the way to the house.

But, no Cassandra wanted to be received on the jetty, and she was not prepared to move a step, even for her own comfort, until her arrival was acknowledged in a suitable manner. No arriving in a backstairs fashion for Cassandra!

While he listened, the slender man in dark glasses kept his hand on the dog’s head. The animal was not the type to be particularly friendly, as Felicity could tell from the way in which its eyes watched her, a hint of malevolence and strong suspicion in the fierce golden gaze. Its master was unable to see who was confronting him, but the dog could see anyone and anything that approached, and as its master’s eyes it was prepared to follow its instincts. And its instincts were to trust no one.

Felicity made the mistake of putting out a hand to touch its massive head, and instantly the dog growled low in its throat. The man who appeared to have usurped the position of James Ferguson Menzies said at once: “Please don’t attempt to touch Bruno
!
He is not accustomed to strangers.”

“I’m sorry,” Felicity said quickly, on a note of rather breathless apology, and the blind man seemed to consider carefully.

“You say that you’ve just come off the steamer? That’s the one that touches here about once a fortnight, and unless you made special arrangements you were lucky to get a passage last night. Menzies Island is generally considered quite off the map, and for that reason we see few people.”

He said ‘see’, although Felicity knew he could not see her
—
at least she strongly suspected it
—
and in a fascinated way she gazed at him. The man kept his beautifully formed hand on the dog, and his sleek dark head was inclined a little towards the animal. The faintly stooping attitude made
him
seem shorter than she afterwards discovered him to be, but she was never mistaken about the slenderness of his build, which was the first thing about him that had really struck her. It was a graceful slenderness, and in spite of his disability his movements were never clumsy. He
h
ad a tendency to grope a little, as if he had not yet become accustomed to finding his way by depending solely on his sense of touch, and was therefore hesitant and unsure. But behind the hesitancy there was a pantherish manner that was rather like a coiled spring, as if under normal circumstances there was just a touch of the showman in his everyday attitude to life. And his voice was crisp and alert, although never raised above a certain minor key.

“You say that you have left your friend on the jetty, and that she has come to visit her uncle? Well, I’m sorry, but her uncle let me this place some time ago
—
it must be nearly two years ago now
—
and I have no real idea where he is at the moment But of course you must come in and rest, and Michael, you must go down to the jetty and see about the ladies’ luggage. Bring it all here, and if there is a lot of it get Moses to help you.”

“But we can’t possibly trouble you like this—” Felicity was be
ginning
, when he cut her short by lifting his hand.

“Nonsense,” he said, with a kind of polite indifference. “Where else will you go if you don’t come here? There is no hotel on
the
island, the steamer will not call for another fortnight, and this is a very big house with plenty of rooms. You and your friend must certainly come here for the time being.”

Felicity thought she had better explain.

“Miss Wood is my employer.”

“Then you and your employer must remain here for the time being,” he told her, in the same slightly monotonous voice. He stood aside, his restraining hand on the dog, so that she could pass into the cool room behind him, and when she had done so her admiration was aroused by the simplicity and beauty of the furnishings.

It was a beautifully proportioned room, gleaming with highly polished furniture, and redolent of perfume. Scent stole out from the numerous bowls and vases that were filled with flowers; silver bowls, an enormous copper bowl, a great Satsuma vase. There were roses on what looked like an ancient refectory table; the rich patina of its surface spoke a tribute to the loving hands that had labored over it during the centuries. A carved ivory screen in a
corner
looked like a
film
of white lace, and
a
treasure-c
h
est encrusted with mother-of-pearl was plainly a treasure in itself. There was a grandfather dock
—
a lovely thing in a rosewood case
—
ticking solemnly in another
corner
, and the mgs that lay on the solid block floor were the kind that men haggled for in remote eastern bazaars where their owners parted with them regretfully.

Felicity was certain she had never before seen so many cherished objects collected together under one roof. A gallery ran Ugh up against the walls, and a staircase flowed downwards from the gallery
—
‘flowed’ was the appropriate word, for in itself it was a thing of beauty, the shining treads uncurling like a fan. Plainly the room was a kind of lounge-hall-cum-sitting-room, and a del
i
ghtful foretaste of what the rest of the house must hold.

Michael, before he departed for the jetty, received an order to bring refreshments, and although Felicity protested that this was not necessary, the man in the dark
-
glasses ignored her protest. The thought of Cassandra impatiently waiting on the jetty made the glass of ice
-
cooled lime Felicity was given seem like a reward she hadn’t earned. Her host indicated a chair that the Irishman had drawn forward for her, and she wondered how he knew that she was not seated, when that queer groping
manne
r
of his betrayed how sightless were the eyes behind the glasses.

“Your Miss Wood cannot possibly be here for another ten minutes,” he said coolly, while the dog watched her with uncanny intentness, “and you can’t help her by remaining standing. If she wished to escape the glare she should have come with you through the plantation.”

“She thought it best to remain with the luggage,” Felicity explained, and the curve of his lips struck her as a little odd.

“The luggage would have been quite safe,” he said. “There are no thieves on the island,”

Felicity instantly flushed, in a way that made her look infinitely attractive
—
although of course he couldn’t see that.

“I
think
she was a little exhausted
...
This heat is rather sudden for us, and she couldn’t remember quite how far it was to the house.”

“So you decided to be the pioneer and look for it? And James Menzies! Well, unhappily for Miss Wood he is probably at the opposite end of the world at this precise moment
—
when he left here he was
pl
annin
g
a leisurely and extended tour of the globe
—
and if she’s been looking forward to meeting him it will be a bit of a disappointment. But she can’t have been in very close touch with him for some time.”

“Not very close touch,” Felicity had to admit “But she
—
she planned to give him a surprise!”

“Not always a wise thing to do,” the man returned on a note of dryness, “not even when you’re certain the person you plan to surprise is where you expect to find him
—
or her, as the case may be!”

Felicity was silent, sipping her drink, and it struck her that the dryness in his voice was particularly noticeable when he uttered those last words.

She felt nervous because he was standing quite near to her, and he seemed to be studying her through the dark glasses. He was elegantly dressed, in an immaculate light grey suit, and Felicity noticed how his linen emphasized the attractive bronze of his skin. He might be without the use of his eyes, but he looked very fit; once again she was reminded of the coiled spring.

“Please help yourself to the lime juice,” he said. “The jug is at your elbow.”

“‘Thank you.” Once again she glanced at him, wondering how he knew that. “Can’t I
—
can’t I pour you some?”

“No, thank you. When your friend
—
I beg your pardon, your employer
—
gets here with Michael, we’ll have breakfast. I don’t suppose you breakfasted on the steamer, did you? They’re not very civilized vessels, and in any case it was a little early for that.”

Felicity found herself agreeing with him once again.

“I can hardly believe that not very many hours ago I was in London! All this is a great change for me.”

“You flew out?”

“As far as we could
—
yes.”

“And now that you’re here, how do you like it? How does Menzies Island strike you?”

“Oh, I
think
it’s indescribably beautiful! So beautiful that I can’t take it in
—
not yet!
”

“As impressive as all that?”

Yet again the dryness in his voice seemed unnatural, until all at once she realized that he had probably never seen the beauty that was out there under the blazing run, and a fresh sensation of horror smote her, a feeling almost of guilt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m so sorry
!
”

He moved to a chair that was a little far away, and hastily she left her own chair to help him. In her impulsiveness she caught his arm, and the dog growled.

“Quiet, Bruno!” said the dark man, with a whimsical expression on his face which Felicity in her anxiety didn’t see, and as he dropped into the chair he thanked her courteously, and at the same time removed his glasses. A pair of the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life regarded her with that same whimsicality, and some faultless white teeth flashed as he smiled at her.

“I am not blind, Miss
—
?”

“Harding,” she supplied, almost abjectly.

“I am no longer blind, I should say,” he corrected
hims
elf
—
“no longer entirely blind, that is! A year ago, when I came here, I had little hope of recovering my sight, but I have been undergoing treatment during recent months, and the sight is returning! I can see you quite clearly
—
I could even see you out there in the glare of the sun, when you first appeared, but my dark glasses must have misled you. I’m afraid you thought I was quite blind, and that Bruno was my guide-dog
—
that is what he was, as a matter of fact, while I needed him to guide me.”

Felicity felt as if the rush of color to her cheeks was actually burning her skin, although at the same time she was conscious of an extraordinary rush of relief because this slender dark man could see. The horror that had enveloped her when she was certain he was quite blind, was something that she was to puzzle over for weeks afterwards.

“Come here, Bruno,” the man said, extending an inviting hand to the dog. “Come and be introduced to Miss Hardin
g
, and in future I shall not expect you to growl at her
—
ever,
do you understand?”

His voice was quiet but incisive, and the handsome Alsatian stood absolutely still for a moment, and then moved to a position midway between the two humans.

“First I will introduce myself,” the slim man said. “I am Paul Halloran.” He stood up and restored his glasses, so that the amazing blue eyes were no longer looking directly at her, which was in some curious way
a
relief. “And this is Bruno, who has served me faithfully for two years! Bruno,” he commanded, “put up your paw, and let Miss Harding shake it!”

Felicity had never had any fear of
anim
als,
and she had already forgotten that Bruno had growled at her more than once. Without hesitation she extended her own hand and grasped the guide-dog’s paw.