Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/298

“When you go from here, you will leave much beauty behind,” Charlie said. “But you will also take much beauty with you, since Miss Julie goes along.”

“Which remark, Mr. Bradshaw,” Julie laughed, “should have come from you.”

“It would have, presently,” he answered.

Chan stood staring at the rising moon, the curve of lights along the whispering shore. The sad music of Hawaii came drifting up from the Moana courtyard. “To be young, in love, and on this beach,” he said. “What greater happiness than that? Taste it to the full. It happens once, then time moves on. Moment comes when gold and pearls can not buy back the raven locks of youth.”

“Why, Charlie,—you’re getting sentimental,” Bradshaw cried.

Chan nodded. “I think of my own courtship on this shore—so long ago. How long, you wonder? I am now father of eleven children—judge for yourself.”

“You must be very proud of them,” Julie ventured.

“As proud as they will permit,” Chan answered. “At least, I have done my part to link past with future. When I move on, leaving eleven offspring, can any man say I have not been here? I think not.”

“You're certainly right on that,” Bradshaw assured him.

“May I speak with you in private for a moment?” Charlie said. He walked with the boy back toward the lights of the house.

“What’s doing?” Bradshaw wanted to know.

“Plenty will be doing at any moment now. Within the hour I tell you who killed Shelah Fane.”

“Good lord!” the boy gasped.