Page:The Black Camel (IA blackcamel0000earl).djvu/54

The butler followed him to the screen door, and held it open.

“Ah, yes,” said the actor. “I hear the roar of surf. No doubt I shall find the sea in that same general neighborhood.” He paused in the doorway, and indicated a light gleaming through the trees some distance to the right. “What’s over there?”

“It’s a sort of summer-house, or pavilion, sir,” Jessop explained. “At least, it would be a summer-house in England, where we have summers. It may be a few of the guests are in there.”

Van Horn went out on the lawn, and started across it in the direction of the light. Suddenly he heard, above the pounding of the breakers, voices on the beach. He stood for a moment, undecided which way to go.

Jessop, meanwhile, returned to the living-room. An old bent Chinese came shuffling in.

“My dear Wu Kno-ching,” the butler protested, “in a well-run house, the cook’s place is in the kitchen.”

The old man blandly ignored the rebuke. “What time dinnah?” he asked.

“As I have told you, the dinner is set for eight-thirty,” replied Jessop. “It may, however, be somewhat delayed.”

Wu Kno-ching shrugged. “Wha’ kin’ house this is? Dinnah mebbe sometime plitty soon aftah while. I get dinnah leady boss say wait dinnah goes to hell.” He departed, murmuring further reproof.

The screen door slammed behind Wilkie Ballou; he crossed the lanai aimlessly and entered the living-room.

“I fear this idea of a swim is going to delay dinner, sir,” Jessop said to him.