The Courage of Captain Plum | Page 9

that the air was filled with
the redolent perfume of lilac. With half a dozen quick strides he
overtook the councilor and caught him by the arm.
"I smell lilac!" he exclaimed.
"Certainly, so do I," replied Obadiah Price. "We have very fine lilacs
on the island."
"And I smelled lilac back there," continued Nathaniel, still holding to
the old man's arm, and pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "I smelled
'em back there, when--"
"Ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the councilor softly. "I don't doubt it, Nat, I
don't doubt it. She is very fond of lilacs. She wears the flowers very
often."
He pulled himself away and Captain Plum could hear his queer
chuckling for some time after. Soon they entered the gloom of the
woods again and a little later came out into another clearing and
Nathaniel knew that it was St. James that lay at his feet. The lights of a
few fishing boats were twinkling in the harbor, but for the most part the
town was dark. Here and there a window shone like a spot of
phosphorescent yellow in the dismal gloom and the great beacon still
burned steadily over the home of the prophet.
"Ah, it is not time," whispered Obadiah. "It is still too early." He drew
his companion out of the path which they had followed and sat himself

down on a hummock a dozen yards away from it, inviting Nathaniel by
a pull of the sleeve to do the same. There were three of these
hummocks, side by side, and Captain Plum chose the one nearest the
old man and waited for him to speak. But the councilor did not open his
lips. Doubled over until his chin rested almost upon the sharp points of
his knees, he gazed steadily at the beacon, and as he looked it
shuddered and grew dark, like a firefly that suddenly closes its wings.
With a quick spring the councilor straightened himself and turned to
the master of the Typhoon.
"You have a good nose, Nat," he said, "but your ears are not so good.
Sh-h-h-h!" He lifted a hand warningly and nodded sidewise toward the
path. Captain Plum listened. He heard low voices and then
footsteps--voices that were approaching rapidly, and were those of
women, and footsteps that were almost running. The old man caught
him by the arm and as the sounds came nearer his grip tightened.
"Don't frighten them, Nat. Get down!"
He crouched until he was only a part of the shadows of the ground and
following his example Nathaniel slipped between two of the knolls. A
few yards away the sound of the voices ceased and there was a
hesitancy in the soft tread of the approaching steps. Slowly, and now in
awesome silence, two figures came down the path and when they
reached a point opposite the hummocks Nathaniel could see that they
turned their faces toward them and that for a brief space there was
something of terror in the gleam he caught of their eyes. In a moment
they had passed. Then he heard them running.
"They saw us!" Captain Plum exclaimed.
Obadiah hopped to his feet and rubbed his hands with great glee. "What
a temptation, Nat!" he whispered. "What a temptation to frighten them
out of their wits! No, they didn't see us, Nat--they didn't see us. The
girls are always frightened when they pass these graves. Some day--"
"Graves!" almost shouted the master of the Typhoon. "Graves--and we
sitting on 'em!"

"That's all right, Nat--that's all right. They're my graves, so we're
welcome to sit on them. I often come here and sit for hours at a time.
They like to have me, especially little Jean--the middle one. Perhaps I'll
tell you about Jean before you go away."
If Captain Plum had been watching him he would have seen that soft
mysterious light again shining in the old councilor's eyes. But now
Nathaniel stood erect, his nostrils sniffing the air, catching once more
the sweet scent of lilac. He hurried out into the opening, with the old
man close behind him, and peered down into the starlit gloom into
which the two girls had disappeared. The lovely face that had appeared
to him for an instant at Obadiah's cabin began to haunt him. He was
sure now that his sudden appearance had not been the only cause of its
terror, and he felt that he should have called out to her or followed until
he had overtaken her. He could easily have excused his boldness, even
if the councilor had been watching him from the cabin door. He was
certain that she had passed very near to him again and that the fright
which Obadiah had attempted to explain was not because of the graves.
He