The Secret Of The Rock

: The Mystery Of The Green Ray

We made exhaustive inquiries everywhere, but no one had seen a yacht

anchored or otherwise resting off the point the previous night. One or

two vessels had been noticed passing the mouth of Loch Hourn during

the evening, but they were mostly recognisable as belonging to

residents in the neighbourhood, and in any case not one of them had

been seen to drop the two men in a boat who were causing us so much

anxiety. When G rnesk and I went up the river to the Chemist's Rock we

were equally unsuccessful there.



"Look here," I said, "suppose you were to go blind, Mr. Garnesk? I

can't allow you to run any risks of that sort. We have every reason to

know that there is something gruesome and uncanny about this spot, and

I should feel happier if you would keep at a safe distance."



"How about yourself?" he replied.



"It's a personal affair with me," I pointed out, "but I can't let your

kindness in assisting us as you are doing run the length of possible

blindness."



"Nonsense, my dear fellow," he exclaimed; "we're in this together. I

am just as keen to get to the bottom of this matter as you are. But it

behoves us both to be careful. It is most important that you should

take care of yourself at the present moment. What would happen to Miss

McLeod if I carried you back to the house in a state of total

blindness?"



"Oh, I shall be all right," I declared confidently. "But, of course,

your point is a good one, and I shall not run any risks."



"And yet you start by careering up the river here when we have very

excellent reasons for supposing that it is hardly the place to spend a

quiet afternoon."



"You don't really believe that there is anything curious about the

river itself, do you?" I asked. "We have agreed that some human agency

is responsible for the tragic affliction that has fallen upon poor

Myra. In that case we are not safe anywhere."



"That's true enough," he agreed, "but everything that has happened so

far has happened here. Sooner or later, no doubt, the operations will

be extended to some other region, but at present we know there is a

possibility of our being overcome by some strange peril between the

Chemist's Rock and Dead Man's Pool."



"Well, as we don't know how to deal with the danger when it does

arrive," I suggested, "suppose we see as much as we can from the

banks. I will go up the centre of the stream and report to you, if you

like, but you stay here."



"You'll do nothing of the sort," he cried. "I can't imagine what we

can possibly learn by standing on that rock, but if either of us goes,

we go together, or I, in my capacity of bachelor unattached, go

alone."



Naturally, I could only applaud such generous sentiments, and at the

same time refuse to countenance his proposal. So we sat among the

heather, some distance above the bank, and awaited developments.



"It is four-twenty now," said my companion presently, looking at his

watch. "If anything is going to happen it should happen soon."



"Don't you think it was mere coincidence that Myra's blindness and the

General's strange illusion occurred about this time? Why should this

green ray only be visible between four and five?"



"It hasn't really been visible at all," Garnesk pointed out. "Miss

McLeod saw a green flash, and the General saw a green rock, which had

taken upon itself the responsibilities of transportation. That's all

we know about the green ray, except the green veil that Miss McLeod

tells us of. I don't expect to see that."



"I wish I knew what we did expect to see," I sighed.



"Exactly," he replied solemnly. "By the way," he added after a pause,

"do you see anything peculiar about the rocks or the pool between four

and five; I mean anything that you couldn't notice at any other time

of the day?"



"Nothing at all," I answered despondently; "it is pleasanter here then

than at any other time--or was until we came under this mysterious

spell."



"Why is it pleasanter?" he asked.



"It is just then that it gets most sunshine," I pointed out.



I made the remark idly enough, for the course of the river, with its

rugged banks and great massive rocks, looked particularly beautiful as

the sun streamed full upon it, and I was immeasurably surprised when

Garnesk jumped to his feet with a shout.



"What is it?" I cried in alarm. "You're not----"



"The sun, Ewart, the sun!" he exclaimed, and, snatching a pair of

binoculars which I carried in my hand, he dashed up the slope to the

foot of a cliff that overhung the stream. I gazed after him for a

moment in astonishment, and then set out in pursuit.



"Stop where you are, man!" he called to me as he turned, and saw me

tearing after him. "No, no; I want you there. Don't follow me."



I did as I was told, for I trusted him implicitly, and I knew that he

would not run any risk without first acquainting me of his intention,

and I took it for granted that he had arranged a part for me to

play, although he had not had time to tell me what it was. But my

astonishment increased as I watched him climb the rock, for when he

arrived a few feet from the summit he sat down on a ledge and calmly

lighted a cigarette!



"What is it all about?" I called to him, when I had fully recovered

from my surprise.



"I only wanted to have a look at the view," he laughed back, and put

the glasses to his eyes. First he examined the house, and then he

turned his gaze in the direction of the sea. It was then that it

dawned on me that he was looking for a yacht. This was the fateful

hour, and it had naturally struck him that the unknown yacht might be

in the vicinity.



"Well," I shouted, "can you see the yacht?"



"No," he replied, "there's nothing in sight, only a paddle steamer;

looks like an excursion of some sort."



"Oh! that's the Glencoe," I explained; "she won't help us at all.

She runs with tourists from Mallaig."



"She seems to be barely able to take care of herself," he laughed. "I

shouldn't like to be on her in a storm."



We conversed fairly easily while he was on the cliff, for we were not

many yards apart, and I began to wonder when he was coming down again.



"Have you any objection to my joining you?" I asked presently, as

there seemed to be nothing for me to do below.



"Stop where you are for a bit, old man," he advised. "I shall be down

in a minute."



"As long as you like," I replied. "You've got a fine view from there,

anyway. Don't worry about me."



I sat down on a rock, refilled my pipe, and prepared to wait till he

rejoined me.



"Hi! Ewart!" he called presently, for my mind had already wandered to

that darkened "den" at the house.



"Hullo," I answered, jumping to my feet. "What is it?"



"Do you notice anything unusual?"



"No," I shouted, "nothing that----," but suddenly I felt a strange

singing in my ears, my pulses quickened, my voice died away into

nothing. I looked up at Garnesk; he was leaning perilously near the

edge of the cliff waving to me. I saw his lips move, yet I heard no

sound. My heart was thumping against my chest with audible beats. I

looked round me in every direction. No, there was nothing strange

happening that the eye could see, yet here was I with a choking

pulsation in my throat. My temples too were throbbing like a couple of

steam hammers. Again I looked up at Garnesk; he was climbing hurriedly

down the cliff. He paused and waved to me, and again his lips moved,

and again I heard nothing.



Surely, I told myself, the events of the past few days had told on my

strength. This was nerves, sheer nerves. Garnesk must give me his arm

to the house. I would lie down and rest, and I should be all right in

a few moments. It was nerves, that was all. But if Garnesk were not

very quick about it I should have burst a blood-vessel in my brain

before he reached me. Already my chest seemed to have swelled to

twice its size. Garnesk, as I looked, seemed to be farther off than

ever, a tiny speck in the distance.



The singing in my ears became a rushing torrent. It was the waterfall,

I told myself; how stupid of me! Of course I should be all right in a

minute. But my friend must hurry. I collapsed on the rock and gasped

for breath. I looked for Garnesk. Still he seemed to be as far away as

ever, and he scarcely seemed to be moving at all. I must tell him to

be quick. It was simply nerves, of course; but I mustn't let them get

the better of me, or what would poor Myra do? I staggered to my feet

to call to Garnesk.



"Hurry up; I'm not well." I framed the words in my brain, but no sound

passed my lips. I struggled for breath, and called again with all the

power I could muster. I could not hear myself speak. And then I

understood! My knees rocked beneath me, the river swirled round me, a

rowan tree rushed by me in a flash, and as I fell sprawling on my face

among the heather a thousand hammers seemed to pound the hideous

sickening truth into the heaving pulp that was once my brain.