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"FORGIVE ME," the stranger said in a thickly accented voice "The door was open, and I caht "Please where did you get this?" The aze, saw the knife in Moore&039;s hand "I meant no harm," he said very quietly

"Who are you?" Moore asked

"My name is Frederick Schiller I was told I could find a rooe I couldn&039;t find anyone"

Moore stood where he was for ato place the accent Of course; it was German He put the knife down on a table, still cautious

"Where did you get this?" Schiller asked again, holding the paperweight as if it were a precious jewel

Moore ignored his interest "How did you get here?"

"By freighter from Jamaica" He paused for a few seconds, then reached inside his coat and brought out a cheap broallet "I can pay," he said

Moore waved the wallet aside "I don&039;t knohat your business is on Coquina, Mr Schiller, but it&039;s a bad time for you to be here"

"Oh? Why is that?"

"There&039;s a stor in the sky, and the last hurricane we had almost tore this place apart"

"My business won&039;t take very long," Schiller replied "Now please This object where did you find it?"

"Aboard a boat"

Schiller closed his eyes

"or to be more exact, what&039;s left of one" The screen door opened behind Moore and Jana caain "Are you all right?" he asked her anxiously

She nodded, running a hand across her forehead "Yes I&039;m just very tired I can&039;t I can&039;t think very coherently yet"

"Is the young lady ill?" Schiller asked

"I think I&039;d better lie down for a while," she said to Moore

He glanced over at the German "The kitchen&039;s at the back if you want a cup of coffee I aued by the man now and wondered what his story was He helped Jana up the stairway to her room at the end of the hall and threw back the covers of the bed for her When he started to rasped his forear out across the pillows "I don&039;t understand," she said, searching his face "I don&039;t understand what&039;s happening here, and I&039;m afraid, and I don&039;t knohat to do"

He stood looking down at her for a ently, as he had done for another woht on in here?"

"No," she said She lay very still for a few seconds and then she put her hands to her face "I saw it I touched it Dear God, I can still smell the rot of it onthe terrace doors When he looked at her again her head was turned away froht He wondered if she would drift off to sleep; if she did, ould she drea face of a thing that should have been dead forty years ago? She shifted her position, her hands still at her face, and Moore heard her take a long, painful breath He stood beside her a while longer, then left the door open as he went out

He walked to his own room and checked the forty-five in the drawer It was loaded with one clip, and there were two spare clips He returned the gun to the drawer and went back downstairs

The Gerarette smoke around his head When Moore came back into the room he put the object on a table beside his chair Moore paid no attention to hi s With the afternoon sun hidden behind clouds, the light was a pale gray; though the room was dim and cobwebbed with shadows, he an, finally turning to him "What&039;s your business?"

Schiller exhaled a streaht as much"

The German reached inside a shirt pocket and offered the newspaper clipping Moore looked at it briefly "That woist here to take a look at the boat too I don&039;t knohat interest you , but aside from the historic value it&039;s a worthless hulk I wish to God I&039;d never found the da" His voice trailed off, and he took another drink frolass

"And you&039;ve been inside?"

"Yes"

Schiller sat back, sighed, pulled froe, distant voice

Moore exah cheekbones, weary, tormented eyes, deep lines across the forehead Representative of a salvage firm, perhaps, sent from Jamaica to appraise the hulk as scrap iron? No He was Gerh for salvage," Moore said, testing him

A thin smile crept across the e? No I don&039;t care about salvage; I would think she&039;s beyond that by now It&039;s incredible, you know I thought by now the sea would have broken her into pieces, that there would be nothing left at all" He raised his eyes to meet Moore&039;s "It&039;s true, then, just as the paper said" It was a statement, not a question

Moore sat where he could see the man&039;s face "It&039;s true"

The Gerain; Moore saw that his hand was tre a finger along its smooth surface "In 1942," he said, "I was a seaman in the German navy I was aboard U-198 when she was attacked and sunk by British subchasers out beyond your island"

Moore leaned forward, his expression frozen

"Yes," Schiller said His gaze was hard; the eyes, like bits of glass, focused on a spot at Moore&039;s forehead "I was the only survivor All the others except one went doith the boat, and that e of fla oil I called for him I tried to find him but the sea was littered with bodies The air stunk of sone; it had dropped out from underneath me Oh yes, I would have done the same had I been the commander There wasn&039;t time you see And then I was left alone with the noise of shelling and alarht hiarette out in an ashtray "Forgive o into that"

"No," Moore said, still stunned "I understand But how is it you came to be on Jamaica?"

Schiller absentmindedly wiped his lips with the back of his hand; it was a habit he had kept over the years All thedegrees, wiping away salt crust as the sea spray thundered against the iron bulwark, again and again, a hundred thousand ti his mouth "I live on Jamaica now," Schiller said "I came back in the late fifties to teach history and the Gere at the University of the West Indies at Mona At least that&039;s what I first told myself I think perhaps I really returned to the Caribbean because of the boat"

Moore waited for him to continue, but when Schiller was silent he asked, "The boat? Why?"