Free And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie Page A

one could speak, the door opened and Rogers came in.
    He said, looking from one to the other:
    “Is there anything more I can get you?”
    Mr. Justice Wargrave stirred a little in his chair. He asked:
    “What time does the motorboat usually come over?”
    “Between seven and eight, sir. Sometimes it’s a bit after eight. Don’t know what Fred Narracott can be doing this morning. If he’s ill he’d send his brother.”
    Philip Lombard said:
    “What’s the time now?”
    “Ten minutes to ten, sir.”
    Lombard’s eyebrows rose. He nodded slowly to himself.
    Rogers waited a minute or two.
    General Macarthur spoke suddenly and explosively:
    “Sorry to hear about your wife, Rogers. Doctor’s just been telling us.”
    Rogers inclined his head.
    “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
    He took up the empty bacon dish and went out. Again there was a silence.
    III
    On the terrace outside Philip Lombard said:
    “About this motorboat—”
    Blore looked at him.
    Blore nodded his head.
    He said:
    “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Lombard. I’ve asked myself the same question. Motorboat ought to have been here nigh on two hours ago. It hasn’t come? Why?”
    “Found the answer?” asked Lombard.
    “ It’s not an accident —that’s what I say. It’s part and parcel of the whole business. It’s all bound up together.”
    Philip Lombard said:
    “It won’t come, you think?”
    A voice spoke behind him—a testy impatient voice.
    “The motorboat’s not coming,” it said.
    Blore turned his square shoulder slightly and viewed the last speaker thoughtfully.
    “You think not too, General?”
    General Macarthur said sharply:
    “Of course it won’t come. We’re counting on the motorboat to take us off the island. That’s the meaning of the whole business. We’re not going to leave the island … None of us will ever leave … It’s the end, you see—the end of everything….”
    He hesitated, then he said in a low strange voice:
    “That’s peace—real peace. To come to the end—not to have to go on … Yes, peace….”
    He turned abruptly and walked away. Along the terrace, then down the slope towards the sea—obliquely—to the end of the island where loose rocks went out into the water.
    He walked a little unsteadily, like a man who was only half awake.
    Blore said:
    “There goes another one who’s barmy! Looks as though it’ll end with the whole lot going that way.”
    Philip Lombard said:
    “I don’t fancy you will, Blore.”
    The ex-Inspector laughed.
    “It would take a lot to send me off my head.” He added dryly: “And I don’t think you’ll be going that way either, Mr. Lombard.”
    Philip Lombard said:
    “I feel quite sane at the minute, thank you.”
    IV
    Dr. Armstrong came out on to the terrace. He stood there hesitating. To his left were Blore and Lombard. To his right was Wargrave, slowly pacing up and down, his head bent down.
    Armstrong, after a moment of indecision, turned towards the latter.
    But at that moment Rogers came quickly out of the house.
    “Could I have a word with you, sir, please?”
    Armstrong turned.
    He was startled at what he saw.
    Rogers’ face was working. Its colour was greyish green. His hands shook.
    It was such a contrast to his restraint of a few minutes ago that Armstrong was quite taken aback.
    “Please sir, if I could have a word with you. Inside, sir.”
    The doctor turned back and reentered the house with the frenzied butler. He said:
    “What’s the matter, man, pull yourself together.”
    “In here, sir, come in here.”
    He opened the dining room door. The doctor passed in. Rogers followed him and shut the door behind him.
    “Well,” said Armstrong, “what is it?”
    The muscles of Rogers’ throat were working. He was swallowing. He jerked out:
    “There’s things going on, sir, that I don’t understand.”
    Armstrong said sharply:
    “Things? What things?”
    “You’ll think I’m crazy, sir. You’ll say it isn’t anything. But it’s got