Authors: Mary Stewart
‘So you have to break your heart over an animal who wouldn’t even know you, and who doesn’t even recognise you?’
‘Someone has to bother,’ I said feebly. ‘Besides, he does recognise me, he knows me perfectly well.’
He let that one pass, straightening up from the rope. ‘Well, there it is, that’s the best we can do, and I’m hoping to heaven we can get it off again before he takes off at sixty knots or so … Well, here goes. Ready?’
I dropped my coat on the sand, kicked off my sandals, and splashed into the shallows beside him. We took the strain of the rope together. It didn’t even strike me as odd that we should be there, hands touching, working together as naturally as if we had done it every day of our lives. But I was very conscious of the touch of his hand against mine on the rope.
The dolphin moved an inch or two; another inch; slid smoothly for a foot; stuck fast. This way, he seemed even heavier to haul, a dead weight on a rope that bit our hands and must surely be hurting him abominably, perhaps even cutting the skin …
‘Easy, now,’ said Max Gale in my ear.
We relaxed. I let go the rope, and splashed shore-wards. ‘I’ll go and take a look at him. I’m so afraid he’s—’
‘
Blast!
’ This from Gale, as the dolphin heaved forward suddenly, beating with his tail, slapping up water and sand. I heard the rope creak through Gale’s hands, and another sharp curse from him as he plunged to keep his footing.
I ran back. ‘I’m sorry … Oh! What is it?’ He had twisted the rope round his right hand and wrist, and I saw how he held his left arm up, taut, the fingers half clenched as if it had hurt him. I remembered how he
had examined it, up in the glade. This must be why he had made such heavy weather of fixing the rope, and had been unable to shift the dolphin.
‘Your hand?’ I said sharply. ‘Is it hurt?’
‘No. Sorry, but I nearly went in then. Well, at least the beast’s still alive. Come on, we’ll have another go before he really does take fright.’
He laid hold once more, and we tried again. This time the dolphin lay still, dead weight again, moving slowly, slowly, till the lost ground was regained; but then he stuck once more, apparently immovable.
‘There must be a ridge or something, he sticks every time.’ Gale paused to brush the sweat out of his eyes. I saw him drop his left hand from the rope and let it hang.
‘Look,’ I said tentatively, ‘this’ll take all night. Couldn’t we possibly – I mean, could the
boat
tow him out … with the engine?’
He was silent for so long that I lost my nerve, and said hurriedly: ‘It’s all right, I do understand. I–I just thought, if Adoni really had got safe in, it wouldn’t matter. Forget it. It was marvellous of you to bother at all, with your hand and everything. Perhaps … if I just stay here all night and keep him damp, and if you could …
do
you think you could ring Phyl for me and tell her? You could say you saw me from the terrace, and came down? And if you could come back in the morning, when it doesn’t matter, with the boat, or with Adoni …’ He had turned and was looking down at me. I couldn’t see him except as a shadow against the stars. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ I finished.
‘We’ll use the boat now,’ he said, abruptly. ‘What do we do – make the rope fast to the bows, and then back her out slowly?’
I nodded eagerly. ‘I’ll stay beside him till he’s floated. I’ll probably have to hold him upright in the water till he recovers. If he rolls, he’ll drown. The air-hole gets covered, and they have to breathe terribly often.’
‘You’ll be soaked.’
‘I’m soaked now.’
‘Well, you’d better have my knife. Here. If you have to cut the rope, cut it as near his tail as you can.’
I stuck the knife in my belt, pirate-wise, then splashed back to where the dolphin lay. It wasn’t my imagination, the lovely dark eye was duller, and the skin felt harsh and dry again. I put a hand on him, and bent down.
‘Only a minute now, sweetheart. Don’t be frightened. Only a minute.’
‘Okay?’ called Max softly, from the boat, which was bobbing a few yards from shore. He had fixed the rope; it trailed through the water from the dolphin’s tail to a ring on the bows.
‘Okay,’ I said.
The engine started with a splutter and then a throbbing that seemed to fill the night. My hand was on the dolphin’s body still … Not even a tremor; boats’ engines held no terrors for him. Then the motor steadied down to a mutter, and the boat began to back quietly out from shore.
The rope lifted, vibrated, with the water flying from it in shining spray; then it tightened. The engine’s note
quickened; the rope stretched, the starlight running and dripping along it. The loop, fastened just where the great bow of the tail springs out horizontally from the spine, seemed to bite into the beast’s flesh. It was very tight; the skin was straining; it must be hurting vilely.
The dolphin made a convulsive movement, and my hand clenched on the knife, but I kept still. My lip bled where I was biting on it, and I was sweating as if I was being hurt myself. The boat’s engine beat gently, steadily; the starlight ran and dripped along the rope …
The dolphin moved. Softly, smoothly, the huge body began to slide backwards down the sand towards the water. With my hand still on the loop of the tail-rope, I went with it.
‘It’s working!’ I said breathlessly. ‘Can you keep it very slow?’
‘Right. That okay? Sing out as soon as he’s afloat, and I’ll cast off here.’
The dolphin slithered slowly backwards, like a vessel beginning its run down the launching-ramp. The grating of sand and broken shells under his body sounded as loud to me as the throbbing engine a few yards out to sea. Now, at last, he touched water … was drawn through the crisping ripples … was slowly, slowly, gaining the sea. I followed him as he slid deeper. The ripples washed over my feet, my ankles, my knees; the hand that I kept on the loop of rope was under water to the wrist.
And now we had reached the place where the bottom
shelved more steeply. All in a moment I found myself standing nearly breast-deep, gasping as the water rose round me in the night chill. The dolphin, moving with me, rocked as the water began to take his weight. Another few seconds, and he would be afloat. He only moved once, a convulsive, flapping heave that twanged the rope like a bow-string and hurt my hand abominably, so that I cried out, and the engine shut to a murmur as Max said sharply:
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. Go on. It held him.’
‘How far now?’
‘Nearly deep enough. He’s quiet now, I think he’s … Oh, God, I think he’s dead! Oh, Max …’
‘Steady, my dear, I’ll come. Hold him, we’ll float him first. Say when.’
‘Nearly …
Right! Stop!
’
The engine shut off, as suddenly as if a soundproof door had slammed. The dolphin’s body floated past me, bumping and wallowing. I braced myself to hold him. Max had paid out the rope, and was swiftly poling the boat back to her mooring under the pines. I heard the rattle of a chain as he made fast, and in another few moments he was beside me in the water, with the slack of the rope looped over his arm.
‘How goes it? Is he dead?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ll hold him up while you get the rope off.’
‘Turn his head to seaward first, just in case … Come along, old chap, round you come … There. Fine. Now hang on, my dear, I’ll be as quick as I can.’
The dolphin lay motionless in my arms, the air-hole flaccid and wide open, just out of water, his body rolling heavily, like a leaky boat about to founder. ‘You’re all right now,’ I told him, in an agonised whisper that he certainly couldn’t hear, ‘you’re in the sea … the
sea
. You can’t die now … you can’t …’
‘Stop worrying.’ Max’s voice came, cheerfully brisk, from the other end of the dolphin. ‘St Spiridion looks after his own. He is a bit sub., poor beast, isn’t he? However, heaven keep him so till I’ve got this damned rope off him. Are you cold?’
‘Not very,’ I said, teeth chattering.
As he bent over the rope again, I thought I felt the dolphin stir against me. Next moment I was sure. The muscles flexed under the skin, a slow ripple of strength ran along the powerful back, a flipper stirred, feeling the water, using it, taking his weight …
‘He’s moving!’ I said excitedly. ‘He’s all right! Oh, Max – quick – if he takes off now—’
‘If he takes off now, we’ll go with him. The rope’s wet, I can’t do a thing, I’ll have to cut it. Knife, please.’
As he slid the blade in under the rope and started to saw at it, the dolphin came to life. The huge muscles flexed smoothly once, twice, against me, then I saw the big shoulders ripple and bunch. The air-hole closed.
I said urgently: ‘Quick! He’s going!’
The dolphin pulled out of my arms. There was a sudden surge of cold water that soaked me to the breast, as the great body went by in a splendid diving roll, heading straight out to sea. I heard Max swear
sharply, and there was a nearer, secondary splash and swell, as he disappeared in his turn, completely under the water. The double wash swept over me, so that I staggered, almost losing my footing, and for one ghastly moment I thought that Max, hanging grimly on to the rope, had been towed straight out to sea in the dolphin’s wake, like a minnow on a line. But as I regained my own balance, staggering back towards shallower water, he surfaced beside me, waist-deep and dripping, with the cut loop in his hand, and the rope trailing.
I gripped his arm, almost crying with relief and excitement. ‘Oh, Max!’ I staggered again, and his soaking arm came round me. I hardly noticed. I was watching the dark, starry sea where, far out, a trail of sea-fire burned and burst in long, joyous leaps and curves, and vanished into the blackness …
‘Oh, Max … Look, there he goes, d’you see the light? There … he’s gone. He’s gone. Oh, wasn’t it
marvellous
?’
For the second time that night I felt myself gripped, and roughly silenced, but this time by his mouth. It was cold, and tasted of salt, and the kiss seemed to last for ever. We were both soaked to the skin, and chilled, but where our bodies met and clung I could feel the quick heat of his skin and the blood beating warm against mine. We might as well have been naked.
He let me go, and we stood there staring at one another.
I pulled myself together with an effort. ‘What was that, the forfeit for the roses?’
‘Hardly. Call it the climax of a hell of a night.’ He pushed the soaking hair back off his forehead, and I saw him grin. ‘The recreation of the warrior, Miss Waring. Do you mind?’
‘You’re welcome.’
Take it lightly, I thought, take it lightly
. ‘You and Adoni must have had yourselves quite a time out fishing.’
‘Quite a time.’ He was not trying to take it any way at all; he merely sounded cheerful, and decidedly pleased with himself. ‘As a matter of fact, that was the pent-up feelings of a hell of a week. Didn’t you see it coming? My father did.’
‘Your father? After that first meeting? I don’t believe you. You looked as if you’d have liked to lynch me.’
‘My feelings,’ he said carefully, ‘could best be described as mixed. And damn it, if you will persist in being half naked every time you come near me—’
‘Max Gale!’
He laughed at me. ‘Didn’t they ever tell you that men were only human, Lucy Waring? And some a bit more human than others?’
‘If you call it human. You flatter yourself.’
‘All right, darling, we’ll call it the forfeit for the roses. You took a fair number, didn’t you? Splendid. Come here.’
‘Max, you’re impossible … Of all the complacent – this is ridiculous! What a time to
choose
…’
‘Well, my love, since you spark like a cat every time I come near you, what can I do but duck you first?’
‘Shows what a lot you know about electricity.’
‘Uh-huh. No, keep still a minute. You pack a pretty lethal charge, don’t you?’
‘You could blow a few fuses yourself, if it comes to that … For pity’s sake, we must be mad.’ I pushed him away. ‘Come on out. I’d love to die with you and be buried in one grave, but not of pneumonia, it’s not romantic …
No
, Max! I admit I owe you anything you like, but let’s reckon it up on dry land! Come on
out
, for goodness’ sake.’
He laughed, and let me go. ‘All right. Come on. Oh, God, I’ve dropped the rope … no, here it is. And that’s to pay for, too, let me tell you; a brand new sisal rope, sixty feet of it—’
‘You’re not the only one. This frock cost five guineas, and the sandals were three pounds ten, and I don’t suppose they’ll ever be quite the same again.’
‘I’m perfectly willing to pay for them,’ said Max cheerfully, stopping in eighteen inches of water.
‘I’m sure you are, but it’s not your bill. Oh, darling, don’t be
crazy
, come
out
!’
‘Pity. Who do you suppose settles the dolphin’s accounts? Apollo, or the Saint? I think I’d opt for Apollo if I were you. Of course, if you’ve lost your sister’s diamond it’ll step the bill up quite a lot.’
‘
Murder!
Oh, no, here it is.’ The great marquise flashed blue in the starlight. ‘Oh, Max, seriously, thank you most awfully – you were so wonderful … I’ve been such a fool! As if you could ever—’
His hand tightened warningly on my arm, and in the same moment I saw a light, a small dancing light, like that of an electric torch, coming round the point along
the path from the Villa Rotha. It skipped along the rocks, paused on the moored boat, so that for the first time I saw her name,
Ariel
; then it glanced over the water, and caught us, dripping and bedraggled, splashing out of the shallows. We were also, by the time it caught us, at least four feet apart.
‘Great God in heaven!’ said Godfrey’s voice. ‘What goes on? Gale – Lucy … you’re soaked, both of you! Is this another accident, for heaven’s sake?’
‘No,’ said Max. ‘What brought you down?’
His tone was about as informative, and as welcoming, as a blank wall with broken glass on the top. But Godfrey seemed not to have noticed. He had already jumped lightly down from the rocks to the sand beneath the pines. I saw the torchlight pause again, then rake the place where the dolphin had lain, and the wide, gouged track where he had been dragged down to the sea. My coat lay there in a huddle, with the sandals kicked off anyhow.