Fear by Night by Patricia Wentworth Page A

impassive Riddle was completely dissolved in terrified tears. They rolled openly down her large pale face and fell unregarded upon her neat black lap. She sat sideways upon her bunk and clutched the edge. When the wind struck them with one of its heavier blows and the floor tilted, she screamed. Ann could see her mouth opening and the shriek coming out, and whenever it was possible to hear anything, Mrs. Halliday said, “Don’t be a fool, Riddle!” And all the time the skylight brightened and darkened overhead as the lightning came and went. Then with a strange suddenness the fury of the squall was over.
    Ann climbed uphill to the door, and then, as the boat went over, was shot right across the saloon. She wanted desperately to get out on deck again and see the lightning make its flashlight pictures of the black hurrying clouds and straining sea. She began to make her way towards the companion, but a sudden lurch flung her against the door of the cabin shared by Mr. Halliday and Gale Anderson. The door gave and she went slipping down against the bunks. In a moment there was water running down her neck, and her hands groped and slipped upon wet metal. The wind blew down upon her up-turned face. The skylight was an inch or two open, overlooked in the sudden flurry of the storm. It was raining now in torrents, and the water was coming in faster every moment.
    She climbed on to the bunk to shut the skylight, and as she steadied herself, she heard Gale Anderson say, so close that it startled her,
    â€œDamn fool to send her down! There’ll never be a better opportunity.”
    The voice came through the open skylight. The rain splashed round the sound of it without confusing the words.
    And then James Halliday said,
    â€œThe old lady sets a good deal of store by her. I won’t have her put about.”
    Ann stood quite still.
    There was no more to hear. The rain came down, and the boat rolled in the choppy sea.
    She left the skylight open and the wet coming in, and made her way up the companion. She could not put any meaning to the words that she had heard. Mr. Halliday had made her go below. Why was he a damn fool to do it? Or weren’t they talking about her at all? And what was the opportunity that had been missed?
    She got the door open, and the wind met her. Not the raging fury of a little while ago, but a joyful, bounding wind that came hallooing across the open sea, flinging its showers at them and whooping off again. Ann held to the rail and looked out upon black tossing water. The lightning flickered away in the north, violet and green, and the clouds drove dark before the wind. On the western horizon was one pale streak of a light between green and grey.
    Ann did not know quite when she began to have the feeling that someone was watching her. If she was visible at all, it must be only as a black blob. Why should anyone watch a black blob? Why for that matter should anyone watch Ann Vernon? She called herself an idiot and listened to James Halliday shouting out that there was another squall coming. She supposed she would have to go down again, but it would be much more interesting to stay there. She forgot the feeling of being watched as she looked out into the dark and heard the roar of the coming squall. Then, as she turned regretfully and groped for the companion door, something struck her on the head and she fell. There was a confusion of wind and water, an icy drenching, and a roaring noise. She was flung against something hard. Her hands clutched, and closed upon emptiness.
    She had not time to be afraid before a grip that hurt was on her arm, her waist, and a moment later she was inside the companion, with Jimmy Halliday shouting at her. She could hear him above the wind, because it was he who was holding her. In a voice that sounded as if he was using a megaphone he was inquiring what the blank, blank, blankety something she meant by coming on deck when he had told her to stay