Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty-Five

I regained consciousness slowly and painfully.I had a headache, my left arm hurt like a bullet when I tried to move, and everything seemed unreal like a dream.Nightmarish scenes floated before my eyes, and I felt myself fall again—fall.For a moment Harry Raeburn's face seemed to emerge from the mist, and I almost imagined it was real, and then his face laughed at me and disappeared.I remember once someone held a glass to my lips and I drank the contents.A black face grinned at me—the face of a demon, I thought, and screamed.And then the dream again—the long, restless dream in which I pursued Harry Raeburn in vain, trying to warn him—warn him of what?I don't know myself.But there was some kind of crisis—some kind of great crisis—and only I could save him.Then there was darkness again, miserable darkness, and real sleep.

I awoke at last by myself, and the long nightmare was over.I remember very well what happened; the rush I made from the hotel to meet Harry, the man in the shadows, and the horrific moment when he fell to the bottom of the mountain... By some miracle my life was spared, I was limp and full of painful welts, but I was alive.But where am I?I struggled to move my head to look around.I was in a small room with rough wooden walls hung with various animal skins and ivory.I was lying on a rough bed, covered with animal skins, and my left hand was bandaged and uncomfortably tight.At first I thought it was just me, but then I saw a man sitting between me and the light, his face turned to the window.He sat there quietly, like a wooden statue.His narrow black head was somewhat familiar to me, but I dared not let my imagination stray.He turned his head suddenly, and I gasped.That was Harry Raeburn, Harry Raeburn in flesh and blood.

He got up and walked over. "Better?" he said, a little embarrassed. I couldn't answer, tears had already covered my face.I'm still weak, but I take his hand, and I wish I could die like this, when he stands there looking down at me with new eyes. "Don't cry, Anne, please don't cry. You are safe now, no one will hurt you." He went over and poured me a drink. "Drink some of this milk." I obediently drank it.He continued speaking in a soft, coaxing voice for a child. "Don't ask anything now, go back to sleep. You will recover gradually. If you like, I can go away."

"No," I said hastily, "no, no." "Then I'll stay." He moved a small bench and sat next to me.He patted me gently with his hands to comfort me, and I gradually fell asleep again. It must have been evening, but when I awoke again the sun was shining.I was alone in the house, but as I moved, an old native woman ran in.She was as ugly as a prisoner, but she smiled at me with a good-natured grin.She brought a basin of water and washed my face and hands.Then came a big bowl of soup and I drank it all down!I asked her a few questions, but she just grinned at me, nodded, and answered in the language of a larynx, so I figured she didn't know English.

When Harry Raeburn came in, she stood up abruptly, stepped back in awe, and he nodded for her to leave, and she walked out, leaving us alone.He smiles at me. "You feel better today!" "Yes, really, but still very dazed, where am I now?" "You are now on a small island in the Three Bezi River, about four miles from the Falls." "Does my friend know—does he know I'm here?" He shook his head. "I must send them a message." "Of course you want to, but if I were you, I'd wait until I'm better." "why?" He didn't answer right away, so I continued:

"How long have I been here?" His answer surprised me. "Almost a month." "What!" I cried. "I must send a message to Suzanne. She must be very worried." "Who is Suzanne?" "Mrs. Blair. I live with her in the hotel with Sir Eustace and Colonel Race—but you already know that, don't you?" He shook his head. "I don't know anything, except that I found you hanging from a school branch, unconscious, with a badly sprained arm." "Where is the tree?" "In the canyon, if the branches hadn't caught your clothes, you would have fallen to pieces."

I shrugged, and then a thought occurred to me. "You said you didn't know I was there, so what about that note?" "What note?" "Your note to me to meet you in the clearing." He looks at me. "I didn't ask for a note for you." I was utterly ashamed, luckily he didn't seem to notice. "How did you happen to be there like that?" I asked with as much innocence as I could. "Also, what are you doing here?" "I live here," he said simply. "On this island?" "Yes, I came here after the war. Sometimes I used my small boat to take hotel tourists out and make a little extra money, but my cost of living was low and most of the time I did what I liked."

"You live here by yourself?" "I don't like socializing, I can assure you," he replied dryly. "I'm sorry to bother you," I retorted, "but I don't seem to have much to say on that front." To my surprise, his eyes blinked a few times. "Nothing. I carried you aboard on my shoulders like a sack of coal, like a stone-age savage." "But for a different reason," I added. This time it was his turn to blush, red as if on fire.His tawny face was flushed. "But you haven't told me yet, how come you just roamed there to rescue me by such a coincidence?" I said hastily to hide his embarrassment.

"I couldn't sleep, I was fidgeting - disturbed - had a feeling that something was going to happen. Finally I rowed out, landed, and walked aimlessly in the direction of the Falls. When I heard your When I called out, I was walking to the mouth of Palm Valley." "Why didn't you go to the hotel to ask for help, and why did you drive me here?" I asked.He blushed again. "I suppose it seems an unforgivable offense to you—but I suppose you don't understand your danger even now! Do you think I should tell your friend? Good friend! Let you be abducted Go out to die. No, I swear to myself, I can take good care of you better than anyone. No one will come to this island. I have old Badani to take care of you. I once cured her high fever. Very loyal, she will not tell anyone that you are here. I can keep you here for several months, and no one will know."

I could leave you here for months without anyone knowing! What a heart-pleasing word! "You're right," I said calmly. "I'm not sending a message to anyone. It's okay to worry them for a day or two, and they don't seem to belong to me. In fact, they are just me." Just acquaintances—even Suzanne. Whoever wrote the note must have known—a lot! It was by no means the work of an outsider." I refer to that note this time without blushing. "If you will accept my guidance—" he said hesitantly. "I don't wish I would," I replied frankly, "but it doesn't hurt to hear it."

"Have you always done what you please, Miss Beddingfield?" "Usually," I replied cautiously.To someone else, I would have said, "Yes, always." "I feel sorry for your husband," he said unexpectedly. "You don't have to be," I retorted. "Unless I'm madly in love with someone, I don't even think about getting married. Of course, there's nothing like doing something she doesn't like doing for someone she really loves." , makes a woman happier. And the more autonomous she is, the more she enjoys doing it." "I'm afraid I disagree. Quite the contrary is the case," he said sarcastically. "Yes," I exclaimed hastily, "and that's why there are so many unhappy marriages. It's all the men's fault. Either they submit to their women—they despise them for that—or Very selfish, insisting on their own opinions and never saying 'thank you'. A successful husband can get his wife to do what he wants, and then make her fuss and nervous to do it. Women like to be dictated to, but they Hate that their sacrifices aren't appreciated. On the other hand, men don't really appreciate women who are always nice to them. When I get married, I'll be like a devil most of the time, but occasionally when my husband doesn't When I do, I'll show him what a wonderful angel I can be!" Harry laughed uncontrollably. "Then you'll live a life of constant noise!" "Lovers always fight," I assured him, "because they don't know each other, and when they do, they don't love each other anymore." "Is the reverse also true? Are people who fight each other always lovers?" "I—I don't know," I said, momentarily confused. He turned to the fireplace. "Would you like some more soup?" He asked casually. "Okay thanks. I'm so hungry I could eat a hippopotamus." "Well." I watched him busily building a fire there. "I'll cook for you when I can get out of bed," I promised. "I don't think you can cook." "I warm up tin cans as much as you do," I retort, pointing to the row of tin cans on the mantelpiece. "Good answer!" he said with a smile. When he laughed, his whole face changed and became happy and childish - a different personality. I drank the soup with relish.As I sipped my soup, I reminded him, he still didn't tell me, his advice after all. "Ah, yes, what I'm about to say is this, if I were you, I'd stay here quietly until I fully recovered. Your enemies would believe you were dead. No body was found, nor would they would be amazed. Your body may have been smashed to pieces on the stones and gone with the rapids." I tremble. "Once you are fully recovered, you can go quietly to Bella, and take a boat back to England." "That's tame," I objected dismissively. "Don't act like a silly girl." "I'm not a silly girl," I said angrily, "I'm a woman." When I sat up on the bed, blushing with excitement, he watched me with an expression I cannot describe. "God help me, you really are," he murmured, and walked out abruptly. I recovered quickly, my two main injuries being a bruise to the head and a severe sprain to my arm, the latter being the worst and at first my savior thought it was broken.However, after careful examination, he knew that it was not broken, and although it was very painful, he recovered quickly. It's been a strange time.We are utterly cut off from the world, alone as Adam and Eve--but how different!Old Badani walked around like a dog.I insist on cooking, or helping out with one hand as much as possible.Harry was out most of the time, but we spent long hours together each day, lying in the shade, talking, arguing -- discussing everything up there, arguing, and then making up again.We quarreled often, but between us there grew up a lasting and faithful friendship that I hadn't expected.Friendship -- and more. I know that the time is getting closer and closer for me to recover and go, and I have to realize this with a heavy heart.Will he let me go?Not saying a word, not making any representations?Will he be silent for a while, a long period of emotional changes, and then stand up by himself and walk away?One evening, the crisis finally came.We finished our simple dinner and sat on the porch of the cottage as the sun went down. Barrettes are a daily necessity that Hari cannot provide for me, and my long, black hair hangs down to my knees.I sat there with my chin in my hands, lost in thought.I felt Harry watching me. "You look like a witch, Anne," he said at last, and there was something in his voice that had never been there before. He reached out and stroked my hair, and I trembled.Suddenly he jumped up. "You've got to get out of here tomorrow, hear?" he cried. "I—I can't take it any longer. I'm only a man after all. You've got to go, Annie. You've got to go. You're not a fool, You know you can't go on like this." "I suppose so," I said slowly, "but—it's been a happy time, hasn't it?" "Happy? It's like hell!" "Is it that bad?" "Why do you torment me? Why do you mock me? Why do you say—even your hair mocks me?" "I'm not laughing at you, and I'm not mocking you. If you want me to go, I'll go. But if you want me to stay—I'll stay." "Don't do that!" he said emphatically. "Don't do that. Don't seduce me, Anne. Do you know what I am? A heinous man, a wanted man. People here know me as Harry Barker— —they know I've been on long journeys, yet one day they'll deduce from what they've heard and seen—then the attack will come on me. You're so young, Anne, so beautiful—a beauty that drives a man mad .The whole world is before your eyes—love, life, everything. And I am the complete opposite—withered, rotten, like dead ashes." "If you don't need me—" "You know I need you. You know I've tried to bring you back here, to keep you here, to hide you from the world forever and ever. And you're seducing me, Anne. You, your witch's Your long hair, your golden and brown-green eyes that smile even when your face is serious, and smile all the time. Yet I will free you from yourself and from me. You go tonight, to Bellaf-" "I'm not going to Bella," I interrupted. "You're going. You're going to Bella, even if I have to take you there and throw you in a boat. What do you think I do? You think I like to be hard every night lest they catch you Sleep? One cannot always depend on miracles. You must go back to England, Anne—and—and marry and live happily.” "With a stable and reliable person who can provide me with a good family!" "It's also better than—causing trouble." "how about you?" His face became hard and determined. "I'm ready for what I'm supposed to do. Don't ask what it is, you can guess it, I dare say it. But I tell you - I'm going to clear my name, or die for it, and I'm going to strangle Die with that bloody hooligan who tried to murder you that night." "Let's be fair," I said, "he didn't actually push me off the hill." "He doesn't need to push you, his plan is more cunning than that. I came out to the path later and saw that everything was normal, but the small signposts on both sides of the path have been slightly moved, and there are tall leaves growing on the edges , he moves the pebbles towards the edge of the road, lined up like a path, so you think you're still on the path, when in fact you're missing it. If I hit him, he'd be dead! He paused for a moment, then said in a quite different tone: "We've never talked about these things, have we, Anne? But the time has come. I want you to hear the whole story--from the beginning." "If looking back hurts you, don't tell me," I whispered. "But I want you to know that it never occurred to me that I would tell anyone about that part of my life. Funny, isn't it, a trick of Fate?" He was silent for a minute or two.The sun had set, and the velvet of African night wrapped us like a cloak. "I know some of them," I said softly. "what do you know?" "I know your real name is Harry Lucas." He still hesitates - doesn't look at me, just looks straight ahead.I had no idea what was going on in his head, but at last he jerked his head forward, as if with some kind of resolution, and began to tell his story.