"Andre Norton - The Opal-Eyed Fan Lp Ebook Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

There was something about Miss Leverett's disregard of all social formalities and niceties which seemed to put Persis on the defensive.

"Such an odd name—Lost Lady." She seized upon the first subject she could think of, not wishing to discuss the wreck.

"Not when you know the story. There was a lady and she was lost—or disappeared," Lydia returned. "She is our ghost now. Be warned. Some say she brings ill luck to those natives unfortunate enough to meet her.

"This was a pirate hold a hundred years ago. In fact, the foundation of this house was part of a fort built by Satin-shirt Jack. And before him there was the mound— that was made by the Old Ones." Lydia was watching her guest, a queer little quirk about her lips as she paused. "Some of the islanders tell tales about them—all blood and sacrifice. They were supposed to be giants able to shoot one of their arrows straight through a Spaniard's breastplate.

"But the Spanish finally killed them all—unless that dirty old witch, Askra, is really one of them. She looks as if she is old enough to be so, goodness knows. Then the pirates under Jack raided the Spanish and killed all of them—except the lady. She was the Commandant's wife or daughter or something like that, so Jack claimed her as part of his share. Until he was found dead and she was gone—

"The Spanish came back again—or so it went. Do I frighten you, Miss Rooke, with all these bloody tales? This is a place which should be haunted—enough has happened here. And the islanders swear that the ghosts do walk."

Persis smiled. If Lydia thought such childish stories were in the least alarming, she must have a very low impression of Persis' intelligence. "Many old places have odd stories about them," she answered composedly. "Even in New York."

"New York!" Lydia sat up straighter. "How I would like to go back to New York! Indeed, visit almost any place apart from this one!" She arose abruptly and went to stand by the rail of the veranda, looking frowningly out over Lost Lady Key.



2



"Have you been to New York then?" Persis eyed her hostess with some impatience. She was hungry, but it was not polite to help herself without invitation.

Lydia's full skirts swirled out as she turned abruptly. "Me—in New York?" She laughed angrily. "I have been to school in Charlestown, and to Key West, and that is all—since Crewe chose to come here. But I was born in New York—only now I can't remember it at all."

She came back to the table and twitched away the net with a vigor which matched her sharp tone.

"To be imprisoned here—it is enough to make one see ghosts—and have all sorts of strange fancies when one is bored."

She ate only a few mouthfuls of bread spread with a thick conserve. But Persis made a healthy meal of biscuits, some fruit that was strange to her, and several slices of ham cut paper thin but nonetheless tasty. There was a custard, too, which had an unfamiliar flavor but which she relished.

Lydia put her elbows on the table, supported her chin on her clasped hands, and fastened her gaze on Persis.

"Tell me about New York," she commanded.

Persis had just started to speak when she was interrupted by a loud braying noise. In a second Lydia was on her feet, heading for the door of the house.

"Ship sighted—" She gave only that small bit of information as she darted within.

Catching some of her hostess' excitement, Persis followed. Lydia was already near the top of the stairs, her skirts gathered up in both hands so she could climb faster.

Three flights they climbed, the third much narrower and more steep—to emerge on a flat space open to the roof, railed about. Lydia jerked a spyglass out of a box fastened against that rail. With it to one eye she peered seaward.

"He dared it!" her voice was high with excitement. "That's the Stormy Luck coming in, it is!" She was smiling now. "Oh, won't Crewe be furious! I can hardly wait to see his face when he finds her here."

"Is that your brother's ship—?" Persis was puzzled.

"No. His is the Nonpareil. They're trying to get the Arrow off that reef. This is Ralph's ship—Ralph Grillon. He's from the Bahamas."