he supposed the rattle of wheels
had grown so familiar that he had not noticed it.

"Send the boys away; there's nothing more to be done," he said.

They turned back towards the shack, and after a few minutes Jake
remarked: "It will be a relief when this business is over. My nerves are
getting ragged."

CHAPTER XXVII

THE SILVER CLASP

It was about eleven o'clock on a hot morning and Kenwardine, who had
adopted native customs, was leisurely getting his breakfast in the patio.
Two or three letters lay among the fruit and wine, but he did not mean to
open them yet. He was something of a sybarite and the letters might blunt
his enjoyment of the well-served meal. Clare, who had not eaten much, sat
opposite, watching him. His pose as he leaned back with a wineglass in
his hand was negligently graceful, and his white clothes, drawn in at the
waist by a black silk sash, showed his well-knit figure. There were
touches of gray in his hair and wrinkles round his eyes, but in spite of
this he had a look of careless youth. Clare, however, thought she noticed
a hint of preoccupation that she knew and disliked.

Presently Kenwardine picked out an envelope with a British stamp from
among the rest and turned it over before inserting a knife behind the
flap, which yielded easily, as if the gum had lost its strength. Then he
took out the letter and smiled with ironical amusement. If it had been
read by any unauthorized person before it reached him, the reader would
have been much misled, but it told him what he wanted to know. There was
one word an Englishman or American would not have used, though a Teuton
might have done so, but Kenwardine thought a Spaniard would not notice
this, even if he knew English well. The other letters were not important,
and he glanced at his daughter.

Clare was not wearing well. She had lost her color and got thin. The
climate was enervating, and Englishwomen who stayed in the country long
felt it more than men, but this did not quite account for her jaded look.

"I am afraid you are feeling the hot weather, and perhaps you have been
indoors too much," he said. "I must try to take you about more when I
come back."

"Then you are going away! Where to?"

Kenwardine would have preferred to hide his destination, but since this
would be difficult it seemed safer not to try and there was no reason why
his household should not know.

"To Jamaica. I have some business in Kingston, but it won't