The Secret of Sarek Maurice Leblanc (best detective novels of all time .TXT) 📖

striking some reef or other. No, we must wait for daylight.”

“It seems so long!”

“A few hours’ patience, mother. And we are together, you and I! At break of dawn, we’ll take the boat and begin by hugging the foot of the cliff till we are underneath the cells. Then we’ll pick up Stéphane, who of course will be waiting for us on some strip of beach, and we’ll all be off, won’t we, All’s Well? We’ll land at Pont-l’Abbé at twelve o’clock or so. That’s my plan.”

Véronique could not contain her delight and admiration. She was astonished to find so young a boy giving proofs of such self-possession.

“It’s splendid, darling, and you’re right in everything. Luck is decidedly coming our way.”

The evening passed without incidents. An alarm, however, a noise under the rubbish which blocked the underground passage and a ray of light trickling through a slit obliged them to mount guard until the minute of their departure. But it did not affect their spirits.

“Why, of course I’m easy in my mind,” said François. “From the moment when I found you again, I felt that it was for good. Besides, if the worst came to the worst, have we not a last hope left? Stéphane spoke to you about it, I expect. And it makes you laugh, my confidence in a rescuer whom I have never seen.⁠ ⁠… Well, I tell you, mother, if I were to see a dagger about to strike me, I should be certain, absolutely certain, mind you, that a hand would come and ward off the blow.”

“Alas,” she said, “that providential hand did not prevent all the misfortunes of which I told you!”

“It will keep off those which threaten my mother,” declared the boy.

“How? This unknown friend has not been warned.”

“He will come all the same. He doesn’t need to be warned to know how great the danger is. He will come. And, mother, promise me one thing: whatever happens, you must have confidence.”

“I will have confidence, darling, I promise you.”

“And you will be right,” he said, laughing, “for I shall be the leader. And what a leader, eh, mother? Why, yesterday evening I foresaw that, to carry the enterprise through successfully and so that my mother should be neither cold nor hungry, in case we were not able to take the boat this afternoon, we must have food and rugs! Well, they will be of use to us tonight, seeing that for prudence’s sake we mustn’t abandon our post here and sleep at the Priory. Where did you put the parcel, mother?”

They ate gaily and with a good appetite. Then François wrapped his mother up and tucked her in: and they both fell asleep, lying close together, happy and unafraid.

When the keen air of the morning woke Véronique, a belt of rosy light streaked the sky. François was sleeping the peaceful sleep of a child that feels itself protected and is untroubled by dreams. For a long time she just sat gazing at him without wearying: and she was still looking at him when the sun was high above the horizon.

“To work, mother,” he said, after he had opened his eyes and given her a kiss. “No one in the tunnel? No. Then we have plenty of time to go on board.”

They took the rugs and provisions and, with brisk steps, went towards the descent leading to the Postern, at the extreme end of the island. Beyond this point the rocks were heaped up in formidable confusion: and the sea, though calm, lapped against them noisily.

“I hope your boat’s there still!” said Véronique.

“Lean over a little, mother. You can see her down there, hanging in that crevice. We have only to work the pulley to get her afloat. Oh, it’s all very well thought out, mother darling! We have nothing to fear.⁠ ⁠… Only⁠ ⁠… only⁠ ⁠…”

He had interrupted himself and was thinking.

“What? What is it?” asked Véronique.

“Oh, nothing! A slight delay.”

“But⁠ ⁠…”

He began to laugh:

“Really, for the leader of an expedition, it’s rather humiliating, I admit. Just fancy, I’ve forgotten one thing: the oars. They are at the Priory.”

“But this is terrible!” cried Véronique.

“Why? I’ll run to the Priory and I shall be back in ten minutes.”

All Véronique’s apprehensions returned:

“And suppose they make their way out of the tunnel meanwhile?”

“Come, come, mother,” he laughed, “you promised to have confidence. To get out of the tunnel would take them an hour’s hard work; and we should hear them. Besides, what’s the use of talking, mother? I’ll be back at once.”

He ran off.

“François! François!”

He did not reply.

“Oh,” she thought, once more assailed by forebodings. “I had sworn not to leave him for a second!”

She followed him at a distance and stopped on a hillock between the Fairies’ Dolmen and the Calvary of the Flowers. From here she could see the entrance to the tunnel and also saw her son jogging along the grass.

He first went into the basement of the Priory. But the oars seemed not to be there, for he came out almost at once and went to the main door, which he opened and disappeared from sight.

“One minute ought to be plenty for him,” said Véronique to herself. “The oars must be in the hall⁠ ⁠… or at any rate on the ground-floor.⁠ ⁠… Say two minutes, at the outside.”

She counted the seconds while watching the entrance to the tunnel.

But three minutes, four minutes, five minutes passed: and the front-door did not open again.

All Véronique’s confidence vanished. She thought that it was mad of her not to have gone with her son and that she ought never to have submitted to a child’s will. Without troubling about the tunnel or the dangers from that side, she began to walk towards the Priory. But she had the horrible feeling which people sometimes experience in dreams, when their legs seem paralysed and when they are unable to move, while the enemy advances to attack them.

And suddenly, on reaching the Dolmen, she beheld a sight the meaning of which was immediately clear to