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Yes, that was it—frightened!

She looked like a woman who walked in mortal fear…

A little shiver passed down Vera’s back. What on earth was the woman afraid of?

She said pleasantly:

‘I’m Mrs Owen’s new secretary. I expect you know that.’

Mrs Rogers said:

‘No, Miss, I don’t know anything. Just a list of the ladies and gentlemen and what rooms they were to have.’

Vera said:

‘Mrs Owen didn’t mention me?’

Mrs Rogers’ eyelashes flickered.

‘I haven’t seen Mrs Owen—not yet. We only came here two days ago.’

Extraordinary people, these Owens, thought Vera.

Aloud she said:

‘What staff is there here?’

‘Just me and Rogers, Miss.’

Vera frowned. Eight people in the house—ten with the host and hostess—and only one married couple to do for them.

Mrs Rogers said:

‘I’m a good cook and Rogers is handy about the house.

I didn’t know, of course, that there was to be such a large party.’

Vera said:

‘But you can manage?’

‘Oh yes, Miss, I can manage. If there’s to be large parties often perhaps Mrs Owen could get extra help in.’

Vera said, ‘I expect so.’

Mrs Rogers turned to go. Her feet moved noiselessly over the ground. She drifted from the room like a shadow.

Vera went over to the window and sat down on the window seat. She was faintly disturbed. Everything— somehow—was a little queer. The absence of the Owens, the pale ghostlike Mrs Rogers. And the guests! Yes, the guests were queer, too. An oddly assorted party.

Vera thought:

‘I wish I’d seen the Owens… I wish I knew what they were like.’

She got up and walked restlessly about the room.

A perfect bedroom decorated throughout in the modern style. Off-white rugs on the gleaming parquet floor—faintly tinted walls—a long mirror surrounded by lights. A mantelpiece bare of ornaments save for an enormous block of white marble shaped like a bear, a piece of modern sculpture in which was inset a clock. Over it, in a gleaming chromium frame, was a big square of parchment—a poem.

She stood in front of the fireplace and read it. It was the old nursery rhyme that she remembered from her childhood days.

Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;One choked his little self and then there were Nine. Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;One overslept himself and then there were Eight. Eight little soldier boys travelling in Devon;One said he’d stay there and then there were Seven. Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;One chopped himself in halves and then there were Six. Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;A bumble bee stung one and then there were Five. Five little soldier boys going in for law;One got in Chancery and then there were Four. Four little soldier boys going out to sea;A red herring swallowed one and then there were Three. Three little soldier boys walking in the Zoo;A big bear hugged one and then there were Two. Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;One got frizzled up and then there was One. One little soldier boy left all alone;He went and hanged himself and then there were None.

Vera smiled. Of course! This was Soldier Island!