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The Return Game
by
“Yes, but, Princess,” he said, “what about our pals? If there is any real danger we can’t let them come stumbling into it. We’ll have to warn them.”
She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something–was it the expression in the man’s steady eyes?–checked her.
She stood a moment silent. Then, “You’re quite right, Pat,” she said, her voice very low. “We’ll go straight back to the boat and stop them.”
Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating.
“You’ll let me go first?” he said. “You stay here in the open! I’ll come back for you.”
But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. “I won’t!” she declared vehemently. “I won’t! Don’t be so ridiculous! Of course I am coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?”
“Why not?” said Hone.
He remembered later that she passed the question by. “We are wasting time,” she said, “Let us go!”
And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the darkness.
VI
They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that nerved her, though he held his peace.
They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb.
He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away.
“There’s nothing between us and the water,” he said cheerily. “We’ll make a dash for it.”
“Stay!” she whispered, under her breath. “I heard something!”
“It’s only a bit of a breeze overhead,” said Hone. “We won’t stop to listen anyway.”
He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had moored the boat became visible.
In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. “Pat! What is that?”
Hone stood still. “There! Don’t be scared!” he said soothingly. “What would it be at all? There’s nothing but shadow.”
“But there is!” she gasped. “There is! There! On the bank above the boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?”
Hone’s eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water.
“Sure, it’s only shadow–” he began.
But she broke in feverishly. “It’s not, Pat! It’s not! There’s nothing to cast it. It’s in the full moonlight.”
“You stay here!” said Hone. “I’ll go and have a look.”
“I won’t!” she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. “You–you shan’t go a step nearer. We must get away somehow–somehow!” with a hunted glance around. “Not through the undergrowth, that’s certain. We–we shall have to go back.”
Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away.
“I must go and see,” he said at last. “I’m sure there’s nothing to alarm us. We can’t run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up our heads again.”
“Oh, Pat, you fool!” she exclaimed, almost beside herself. “I tell you that is no shadow! It’s a snake! Do you hear? It’s a huge python! And it was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere–everywhere! The whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, quick! Think of something! See now! It’s moving–uncoiling! Look, look! Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!”