Follow a Stranger

for Kianthos, I’m afraid.”

Pyrakis shrugged. “A pity, I shall feel deprived. I was

looking forward to more of Miss Kate’s company. She is

excitingly responsive, like a well-tuned violin.” He kissed

her hand, then, saying something in Greek to Marc, bent

and kissed her on the mouth.

Marc took her elbow. “We must hurry. I’ll see you,

Spiro.”

He marched her back down to the harbour very fast,

his face coolly shuttered, and helped her into the yacht.

They set off at once. Kate looked back at the island, its

hills now dark and menacing with the approaching storm.

Then she sighed. She would remember that meeting

with Pyrakis all her life.

Marc shouted to her to come and help him, and she

hurriedly obeyed.

She had done little sailing before, but she was light on

her feet, and quick-witted, so they worked together in

comparative harmony.

“I don’t like the look of that sky,” he said anxiously. “I

hope we get back before that wind veers, or we may be

blown right off course. I wish I had noticed the sky

earlier.”

They were within sight of Kianthos when the wind

suddenly began to blow strongly, beating them to and fro

as if the boat were a matchstick. Kate caught a glimpse of

Marc, through a turmoil of whipped spray, and heard him

shouting to her, but the wind blew his words away.

Then the boat seemed to fly upwards, like a toy in the

grip of a giant, and she was thrown across the deck,