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Chapter 50

           Orperhaps"goodweather"wasahintthatheknewaboutmymeetingswithJulie…andthatbadweatherwassoontocome.Icouldn’tbelievethathewouldkeepherfrommeforanotherweek.HemustknowthatIshouldrushovertoBouraniwhetherhewasthereornot.Idecidedthatitwashiswayofsaying,Yourmove.SoIwouldmove.Soonaftertwoo’clockonSaturday,Iwasonmywayupintothehills.Atthree,Ienteredtheclumpoftamarisk.Intheblazingheattheweatherremainedwindless,stagnantitwasdifficulttobelievethatwhatIhadseenhadhappened.Butthereweretwoorthreerecentlybrokentwigsandbranches;andwherethe"prisoner"haddivedawaytherewereseveraloverturnedstones,theirbottomsstainedruddyfromtheislandearth;andmorebrokenspraysoftamarisk.AlittlehigherIpickedupseveralscrewed-outcigaretteends.Onewasonlyhalf-smokedandhadthebeginningsofthesamephrase:LeipzigdaIstoodontheblufflookingdownovertheothersideoftheisland.AlongwaytothesouthIcouldseeabigcaïqueofthekindthatmusthavebroughtthe"soldiers"totheisland;therewasnothingunusualinseeingit.SuchcaIquespassedthroughthestraitsfacingtheschoolseveraltimesaweek.ButitremindedmehoweasyitwasforConchis’scasttogetonandofftheislandwithoutmyknowing.Istoodsometimeonthebluff,becauseifanyonewaswatchingIwantedthemtoknowIwasonmyway.

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