1Outside Oakbridge station a little group of people stood in momentary uncertainty. Behind them stood porters with suitcases. One of these called "Jim!"

2The driver of one of the taxis stepped forward. "You'm for Indian Island, maybe? he asked in a soft Devon voice. Four voices gave assent and then immediately afterwards gave quick surreptitious glances at each other.

3The driver said, addressing his remarks to Mr. Justice Wargrave as the senior member of the party: "There are two taxis here, sir. One of them must wait till the slow train from

4Exeter gets in a matter of five minutes there's one gentleman coming by that.

5Perhaps one of you wouldn't mind waiting? You'd be more comfortable that way. "

6Vera Claythorne, her own secretarial position clear in her mind, spoke at once. "I'll wait," she said, "if you will go on?" She looked at the other three, her glance and voice had that slight suggestion of command in it that comes from having occupied a position of authority. She might have been directing which tennis sets the girls were to play in.

7Miss Brent said stiffly, "Thank you," bent her head and entered one of the taxis, the door of which the driver was holding open.

8Mr. Justice Wargrave followed her.

9Captain Lombard said: "I'll wait with Miss " "Claythorne," said Vera. "My name is Lombard, Philip Lombard."

10The porters were piling luggage on the taxi. Inside, Mr. Justice Wargrave said with due legal caution: "Beautiful weather we are having."

11Miss Brent said: "Yes, indeed."

12A very distinguished old gentleman, she thought to herself. Quite unlike the usual type of man in seaside guest houses. Evidently Mrs. or Miss Oliver had good connections...

13Mr. Justice Wargrave inquired: "Do you know this part of the world well?" "I have been to Cornwall and to Torquay, but this is my first visit to this part of

14Devon. "

15The judge said: "I also am unacquainted with this part of the world."

16The taxi drove off.

17The driver of the second taxi said: "Like to sit inside while you're waiting?"

18Vera said decisively: "Not at all."

19Captain Lombard smiled.

20He said: "That sunny wall looks more attractive. Unless you'd rather go inside the station?" "No, indeed. It's so delightful to get out of that stuffy train."

21He answered: "Yes, travelling by train is rather trying in this weather."

22Vera said conventionally: "I do hope it lasts the weather, I mean. Our English summers are so treacherous."

23With a slight lack of originality Lombard asked: "Do you know this part of the world well?" "No, I've never been here before." She added quickly, conscientiously determined to make her position clear at once, "I haven't even seen my employer yet." "Your employer?" "Yes, I'm Mrs. Owen's secretary." "Oh, I see." Just imperceptibly his manner changed. It was slightly more assured easier in tone. He said: "Isn't that rather unusual?"

24Vera laughed. "Oh, no, I don't think so. Her own secretary was suddenly taken ill and she wired to an agency for a substitute and they sent me." "So that was it. And suppose you don't like the post when you've got there?"

25Vera laughed again. "Oh, it's only temporary a holiday post. I've got a permanent job at a girls' school. As a matter of fact I'm frightfully thrilled at the prospect of seeing Indian

26Island. There's been such a lot about it in the papers. Is it really very fascinating?

27Lombard said: "I don't know. I haven't seen it." "Oh, really? The Owens are frightfully keen on it, I suppose. What are they like?

28Do tell me. "

29Lombard thought: "Awkward, this am I supposed to have met them or not?" He said quickly: "There's a wasp crawling up your arm. No keep quite still."

30He made a convincing pounce. "There. It's gone!" "Oh, thank you. There are a lot of wasps about this summer." "Yes, I suppose it's the heat. Who are we waiting for, do you know?" "I haven't the least idea."

31The loud drawn out scream of an approaching train was heard. Lombard said: "That will be the train now."

32II

33It was a tall soldierly old man who appeared at the exit from the platform. His grey hair was clipped close and he had a neatly trimmed white moustache.

34His porter, staggering slightly under the weight of the solid leather suitcase, indicated Vera and Lombard.

35Vera came forward in a competent manner. She said: "I am Mrs. Owen's secretary. There is a car here waiting." She added: "This is

36Mr. Lombard. "

37The faded blue eyes, shrewd in spite of their age, sized up Lombard. For a moment a judgement showed in them had there been any one to read it. "Goodlooking fellow. Something just a little wrong about him..."

38The three of them got into the waiting taxi. They drove through the sleepy streets of little Oakbridge and continued about a mile on the main Plymouth road. Then they plunged into a maze of cross country lanes, steep, green and narrow.

39General Macarthur said: "Don't know this part of Devon at all. My little place is in East Devon just on the borderline of Dorset."

40Vera said: "It really is lovely here. The hills and the red earth and everything so green and luscious looking."

41Philip Lombard said critically: "It's a bit shut in... I like open country myself. Where you can see what's coming..."

42General Macarthur said to him: "You've seen a bit of the world, I fancy?"

43Lombard shrugged his shoulders disparagingly. "I've knocked about here and there, sir."

44He thought to himself: "He'll ask me now if I was old enough to be in the War.

45These old boys always do. "

46But General Macarthur did not mention the War.

47Ill

48They came up over a steep hill and down a zigzag track to Sticklehaven a mere cluster of cottages with a fishing boat or two drawn up on the beach.

49Illuminated by the setting sun, they had their first glimpse of Indian Island jutting up out of the sea to the south.

50Vera said, surprised: "It's a long way out."

51She had pictured it differently, close to shore, crowned with a beautiful white house. But there was no house visible, only the boldly silhouetted rock with its faint resemblance to a giant Indian's head. There was something sinister about it.

52She shivered faintly.

53Outside a little inn, the Seven Stars, three people were sitting. There was the hunched elderly figure of the judge, the upright form of Miss Brent, and a third man a big bluff man who came forward and introduced himself. "Thought we might as well wait for you," he said. "Make one trip of it. Allow me to introduce myself. Name's Davis. Natal, South Africa's my natal spot, ha, ha!"

54He laughed breezily.

55Mr. Justice Wargrave looked at him with active malevolence. He seemed to be wishing that he could order the court to be cleared. Miss Emily Brent was clearly not sure if she liked colonials. "Any one care for a little nip before we embark?" asked Mr. Davis hospitably.

56Nobody assenting to this proposition, Mr. Davis turned and held up a finger. "Mustn't delay, then. Our good host and hostess will be expecting us," he said.

57He might have noticed that a curious constraint came over the other members of the party. It was as though the mention of their host and hostess had a curiously paralyzing effect upon the guests.

58In response to Davis' beckoning finger, a man detached himself from a nearby wall against which he was leaning and came up to them. His rolling gait proclaimed him a man of the sea. He had a weatherbeaten face and dark eyes with a slightly evasive expression. He spoke in his soft Devon voice. "Will you be ready to be starting for the island, ladies and gentlemen? The boat's waiting. There's two gentlemen coming by car, but Mr. Owen's orders was not to wait for them as they might arrive at any time."

59The party got up. Their guide led them along a small stone jetty. Alongside it a motor boat was lying.

60Emily Brent said: "That's a very small boat."

61The boat's owner said persuasively: "She's a fine boat, that, Ma'am. You could go to Plymouth in her as easy as winking."

62Mr. Justice Wargrave said sharply: "There are a good many of us." "She'd take double the number, sir."

63Philip Lombard said in his pleasant easy voice: "It's quite all right. Glorious weather no swell."

64Rather doubtfully, Miss Brent permitted herself to be helped into the boat. The others followed suit. There was as yet no fraternizing among the party. It was as though each member of it was puzzled by the other members.

65They were just about to cast loose when their guide paused, boathook in hand.

66Down the steep track into the village a car was coming. A car so fantastically powerful, so superlatively beautiful that it had all the nature of an apparition. At the wheel sat a young man, his hair blown back by the wind. In the blaze of the evening light he looked, not a man, but a young God, a Hero God out of some

67Northern Saga.

68He touched the horn and a great roar of sound echoed from the rocks of the bay.

69It was a fantastic moment. In it, Anthony Marston seemed to be something more than mortal. Afterwards, more than one of those present remembered that moment.

70IV

71Fred Narracott sat by the engine thinking to himself that this was a queer lot.

72Not at all his idea of what Mr. Owen's guests were likely to be. He'd expected something altogether more classy. Togged up women and gentlemen in yachting costume and all very rich and important looking.

73Not at all like Mr. Elmer Robson's parties. A faint grin came to Fred Narracott's lips as he remembered the millionaire's guests. That had been a party if you like and the drink they'd got through!

74This Mr. Owen must be a very different sort of gentleman. Funny it was, thought

75Fred, that he'd never yet set eyes on Owen or his Missus either. Never been down here yet, he hadn't. Everything ordered and paid for by that Mr. Morris.

76Instructions always very clear and payment prompt, but it was odd, all the same.

77The papers said there was some mystery about Owen. Mr. Narracott agreed with them.

78Perhaps, after all, it was Miss Gabrielle Turl who had bought the island. But that theory departed from him as he surveyed his passengers. Not this lot none of them looked likely to have anything to do with a film star.

79He summed them up dispassionately.

80One old maid the sour kind he knew them well enough. She was a Tartar, he could bet. Old military gentleman real Army by the look of him. Nice looking young lady but the ordinary kind, not glamourous no Hollywood touch about her. That bluff cheery gent he wasn't a real gentleman. Retired tradesman, that's what he is, thought Fred Narracott. The other gentleman, the lean hungry looking gentleman with the quick eyes, he was a queer one, he was. Just possible he might have something to do with the pictures.

81No, there was only one satisfactory passenger in the boat. The last gentleman, the one who had arrived in the car (and what a car! A car such as had never been seen in Sticklehaven before. Must have cost hundreds and hundreds, a car like that).

82He was the right kind. Born to money, he was. If the party had been all like him... he'd understand it...

83Queer business when you came to think of it the whole thing was queer very queer...

84V

85The boat churned its way round the rock. Now at last the house came into view.

86The south side of the island was quite different It shelved gently down to the sea.

87The house was there facing south low and square and modernlooking with rounded windows letting in all the light.

88An exciting house a house that lived up to expectation!

89Fred Narracott shut off the engine, they nosed their way gently into a little natural inlet between rocks.

90Philip Lombard said sharply: "Must be difficult to land here in dirty weather."

91Fred Narracott said cheerfully: "Can't land on Indian Island when there's a southeasterly. Sometimes 'tis cut off for a week or more."

92Vera Claythorne thought: "The catering must be very difficult. That's the worst of an island. All the domestic problems are so worrying."

93The boat grated against the rocks. Fred Narracott jumped out and he and

94Lombard helped the others to alight. Narracott made the boat fast to a ring in the rock. Then he led the way up steps cut in the rock.

95General Macarthur said: "Ha, delightful spot!"

96But he felt uneasy. Damned odd sort of place.

97As the party ascended the steps, and came out on a terrace above, their spirits revived. In the open doorway of the house a correct butler was awaiting them, and something about his gravity reassured them. And then the house itself was really most attractive, the view from the terrace magnificent...

98The butler came forward bowing slightly. He was a tall lank man, greyhaired and very respectable. He said: "Will you come this way, please?"

99In the wide hall drinks stood ready. Rows of bottles. Anthony Marston's spirits cheered up a little. He'd just been thinking this was a rum kind of show. None of his lot! What could old Badger have been thinking about to let him in for this?

100However the drinks were all right. Plenty of ice, too.

101What was it the butler chap was saying? "Mr. Owen unfortunately delayed unable to get here till tomorrow.

102Instructions everything they wanted if they would like to go to their rooms? ... dinner would be at 8 o'clock..."

103VI

104Vera had followed Mrs. Rogers upstairs. The woman had thrown open a door at the end of a passage and Vera had walked into a delightful bedroom with a big window that opened wide upon the sea and another looking east. She uttered a quick exclamation of pleasure.

105Mrs. Rogers was saying: "I hope you've got everything you want, Miss?"

106Vera looked round. Her luggage had been brought up and had been unpacked. At one side of the room a door stood open into a pale blue tiled bathroom.

107She said quickly: "Yes, everything, I think." "You'll ring the bell if you want anything, Miss?"

108Mrs. Rogers had a flat monotonous voice. Vera looked at her curiously. What a white bloodless ghost of a woman! Very respectable looking, with her hair dragged back from her face and her black dress. Queer light eyes that shifted the whole time from place to place.

109Vera thought: "She looks frightened of her own shadow."

110Yes, that was it frightened!

111She looked like a woman who walked in mortal fear...

112A little shiver passed down Vera's back. What on earth was the woman afraid of?

113She said pleasantly: "I'm Mrs. Owen's new secretary. I expect you know that."

114Mrs. Rogers said: "No, Miss, I don't know anything. Just a list of the ladies and gentlemen and what rooms they were to have."

115Vera said: "Mrs. Owen didn't mention me?"

116Mrs. Rogers' eyelashes flickered. "I haven't seen Mrs. Owen not yet. We only came here two days ago." "Extraordinary people, these Owens," thought Vera. Aloud she said: "What staff is there here?" "Just me and Rogers, Miss."

117Vera frowned. Eight people in the house ten with the host and hostess and only one married couple to do for them.

118Mrs. Rogers said: "I'm a good cook and Rogers is handy about the house. I didn't know, of course, that there was to be such a large party."

119Vera said: "But you can manage?" "Oh, yes, Miss, I can manage. If there's to be large parties often perhaps Mrs.

120Owen could get extra help in. "

121Vera said, "I expect so."

122Mrs. Rogers turned to go. Her feet moved noiselessly over the ground. She drifted from the room like a shadow.

123Vera went over to the window and sat down on the window seat. She was faintly disturbed. Everything somehow was a little queer. The absence of the Owens, the pale ghostlike Mrs. Rogers. And the guests! Yes, the guests were queer too.

124An oddly assorted party.

125Vera thought: "I wish I'd seen the Owens... I wish I knew what they were like."

126She got up and walked restlessly about the room.

127A perfect bedroom decorated throughout in the modern style. Offwhite rugs on the gleaming parquet floor faintly tinted walls a long mirror surrounded by lights. A mantelpiece bare of ornaments save for an enormous block of white marble shaped like a bear, a piece of modern sculpture in which was inset a clock. Over it, in a gleaming chromium frame, was a big square of parchment a poem.

128She stood in front of the fireplace and read it. It was the old nursery rhyme that she remembered from her childhood days.

129Ten little Indian boys went out to dine;

130One choked his little self and then there were nine.

131Nine little Indian boys sat up very late;

132One overslept himself and then there were eight.

133Eight little Indian boys travelling in Devon;

134One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.

135Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks;

136One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

137Six little Indian boys playing with a hive;

138A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.

139Five little Indian boys going in for law;

140One got in Chancery and then there were four.

141Four little Indian boys going out to sea;

142A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

143Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo;

144A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

145Two little Indian boys sitting in the sun;

146One got frizzled up and then there was one.

147One little Indian boy left all alone;

148He went and hanged himself and then there were none.

149Vera smiled. Of course! This was Indian Island!

150She went and sat again by the window looking out to sea.

151How big the sea was! From here there was no land to be seen anywhere just a vast expanse of blue water rippling in the evening sun.

152The sea... So peaceful today sometimes so cruel... The sea that dragged you down to its depths. Drowned... Found drowned... Drowned at sea... Drowned drowned drowned...

153No, she wouldn't remember... She would not think of it!

154All that was over...

155VII

156Dr. Armstrong came to Indian Island just as the sun was sinking into the sea. On the way across he had chatted to the boatman a local man. He was anxious to find out a little about these people who owned Indian Island, but the man

157Narracott seemed curiously ill informed, or perhaps unwilling to talk.

158So Dr. Armstrong chatted instead of the weather and of fishing.

159He was tired after his long motor drive. His eyeballs ached. Driving west you were driving against the sun.

160Yes, he was very tired. The sea and perfect peace that was what he needed. He would like, really, to take a long holiday. But he couldn't afford to do that. He could afford it financially, of course, but he couldn't afford to drop out. You were soon forgotten nowadays. No, now that he had arrived, he must keep his nose to the grindstone.

161He thought: "All the same, this evening, I'll imagine to myself that I'm not going back that

162I've done with London and Harley Street and all the rest of it. "

163There was something magical about an island the mere word suggested fantasy.

164You lost touch with the world an island was a world of its own. A world, perhaps, from which you might never return.

165He thought: "I'm leaving my ordinary life behind me."

166And, smiling to himself, he began to make plans, fantastic plans for the future.

167He was still smiling when he walked up the rock cut steps.

168In a chair on the terrace an old gentleman was sitting and the sight of him was vaguely familiar to Dr. Armstrong. Where had he seen that froglike face, that tortoiselike neck, that hunched up attitude yes, and those pale shrewd little eyes? Of course old Wargrave. He'd given evidence once before him. Always looked half asleep, but was shrewd as could be when it came to a point of law.

169Had great power with a jury it was said he could make their minds up for them any day of the week. He'd got one or two unlikely convictions out of them. A hanging judge, some people said.

170Funny place to meet him... here out of the world.

171VIII

172Mr. Justice Wargrave thought to himself: "Armstrong? Remember him in the witness box. Very correct and cautious. All doctors are damned fools. Harley Street ones are the worst of the lot." And his mind dwelt malevolently on a recent interview he had had with a suave personage in that very street.

173Aloud he grunted: "Drinks are in the hall."

174Dr. Armstrong said: "I must go and pay my respects to my host and hostess."

175Mr. Justice Wargrave closed his eyes again, looking decidedly reptilian, and said: "You can't do that."

176Dr. Armstrong was startled. "Why not?"

177The judge said: "No host and hostess. Very curious state of affairs. Don't understand this place."

178Dr. Armstrong stared at him for a minute. When he thought the old gentleman had actually gone to sleep, Wargrave said suddenly: "D'you know Constance Culmington?" "Er no, I'm afraid I don't." "It's of no consequence," said the judge. "Very vague woman and practically unreadable handwriting. I was just wondering if I'd come to the wrong house."

179Dr. Armstrong shook his head and went on up to the house.

180Mr. Justice Wargrave reflected on the subject of Constance Culmington.

181Undependable like all women.

182His mind went on to the two women in the house, the tightlipped old maid and the girl. He didn't care for the girl, coldblooded young hussy. No, three women, if you counted the Rogers woman. Odd creature, she looked scared to death.

183Respectable pair and knew their job...

184Rogers coming out on the terrace that minute, the Judge asked him: "Is Lady Constance Culmington expected, do you know?"

185Rogers stared at him. "No, sir, not to my knowledge."

186The judge's eyebrows rose. But he only grunted.

187He thought: "Indian Island, eh? There's a nigger in the woodpile."

188IX

189Anthony Marston was in his bath. He luxuriated in the steaming water. His limbs had felt cramped after his long drive. Very few thoughts passed through his head. Anthony was a creature of sensation and of action.

190He thought to himself: "Must go through with it, I suppose," and thereafter dismissed everything from his mind.

191Warm steaming water tired limbs presently a shave a cocktail dinner.

192And after ?

193X

194Mr. Blore was tying his tie. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing.

195Did he look all right? He supposed so.

196Nobody had been exactly cordial to him... Funny the way they all eyed each other as though they knew...

197Well, it was up to him. He didn't mean to bungle his job.

198He glanced up at the framed nursery rhyme over the mantelpiece.

199Neat touch, having that there!

200He thought: "Remember this island when I was a kid. Never thought I'd be doing this sort of a job in a house here. Good thing, perhaps, that one can't foresee the future..."

201XI

202General Macarthur was frowning to himself. Damn it all, the whole thing was deuced odd! Not at all what he'd been led to expect...

203For two pins he'd make an excuse and get away... Throw up the whole business...

204But the motor boat had gone back to the mainland.

205He'd have to stay.

206That fellow Lombard now, he was a queer chap.

207Not straight. He'd swear the man wasn't straight.

208XII

209As the gong sounded, Philip Lombard came out of his room and walked to the head of the stairs. He moved like a panther, smoothly and noiselessly. There was something of the panther about him altogether. A beast of prey pleasant to the eye.

210He was smiling to himself.

211A week eh?

212He was going to enjoy that week.

213XIII

214In her bedroom, Emily Brent, dressed in black silk ready for dinner, was reading her Bible.

215Her lips moved as she followed the words: "The heathen are sunk down in the pit that they made: in the net which they hid is their own foot taken. The Lord is known by the judgement which he executeth: the wicked is snared in the work of his own hands. The wicked shall be turned into hell."

216Her tight lips closed. She shut the Bible.

217Rising, she pinned a cairngorm brooch at her neck, and went down to dinner.