J. S. Fletcher

“ This puzzled me more than anything that had happened during that day; more than the first appearance of Mandhu Khan at daybreak; far more than the discovery of Getch’s dead body. Murder, indeed, seemed the sort of thing one had got to expect, and as I had already seen the Hindu at the window of the Shooting Star, I was not surprised to know that he had made his way from the mainland to Melsie Island. But I did not understand his evidently-unobstructed progress from the bottom to the top of the tower. ”

“ It surely meant that Uncle Joseph was no longer there—and that meant that Uncle Joseph had fled, forsaking his stores of food and liquor and his comparative safety (certainly, nobody could have got into that tower while he sat facing its doorway with a pistol in his hand!) for gradual starvation and precarious wandering. But if he had fled, where had he gone? Had the vessel of which he had spoken to me arrived off the island during the morning, unseen of Pepita and myself, busied with our own labour, and had he escaped to it? ”

“ And I knew that if he continued in that direction he would before long come to the old ruins and the tower, wherein Uncle Joseph, I supposed, still sat, nursing his pistol and filled with strange fears.
“Pepita!” I whispered, as the scarlet of the turban vanished amongst the trees. “I’m going to see where that chap’s going! Be a good girl and stay hidden here—you’ll be all right, and I shall be all right, too—I can easily track him and I can dodge him, as well, if it comes to it. He’s making for the tower, I’m certain!—and I want to know if he gets in.” ”