Together on Ecarte Island

Signals

"Ah! Schoolmaster Jilbert!" called Mr. Thaddeus, Ecarte's elderly post master when Gilbert strolled into the lighthouse post office. "Ye just missed the little miss." he informed the younger man, chuckling at his little play on words, "She done left for home, luggin' along that awfully heavy typewriter machine. Ha! For such a little thing, she can sure carry thrice her weight in parcels up and around this whole island! I can't do half o'that no more with my old back, but I since take to ridin' my motor scooter."
     "Yes, she is extremely strong." Gilbert agreed, "I've been expecting a telegram. Might there be one for me by now?"
     Mr. Thaddeus consulted his telegram log journal, searching for Gilbert's fake name, through a pair of reading glasses perched at the end of his nose. "Ah! Yes!! Here ye be! A telegram for Jilbert, arrived first thing this mornin."
     Gilbert signed the logbook and took out a single coin worth the price of receiving the telegram and laid it on the counter.  Mr. Thaddeus took up the coin and dropped it into the till. He then led Gilbert to a small soundproof booth where a recording device, left from the war, sat along with a pair of headphones and a writing pad and small pencil. 
Most island folks, when they received or sent an occasional telegram depended on Violet or Mr. Thaddeus to translate, but for those who could decipher on their own, it was the perfect device for absolute secrecy.
    Gilbert switched on the recording device and listened to the clicks and beeps, each symbolizing a letter of the alphabet in a code Gilbert had known since boyhood. He jotted the letters down quickly, then flipped another switch that erased the clicks and beeps entirely.
"Thank you, Mr. Thaddeus," Gilbert called as he stuffed his scrape of paper into his trouser pocket. Mr. Thaddeus, turned from his duties in time to see Gilbert's back as the tall, slender one armed man exited the front entrance.
Once Gilbert was a safe distance from the lighthouse, he slipped the paper out of his pocket and read it again carefully.

Random shootings of military rank stop keep on lookout stop trust no one stop meet me at CH on the third stop D

     Gilbert then destroyed the message by tearing it into small bits with his teeth, chewing then spitting them out on the ground. It was a strategy learned in the military when one did not have a fire for incineration.  One could never be too careful. And here on the remote island of Ecarte, he had actually let himself believe that he and Violet could live at peace forever. What a foolish notion. 
     When he returned home, Gilbert wasted no time in removing a false bottom of his wardrobe to reveal a small arsenal of weaponry and rifle cleaning supplies.  He selected the smallest hand pistol, slipped it into his pocket and grabbed the cleaning supplies. Gilbert knew he had to work quickly.  Somehow he felt it important to keep his actions from Violet, just for now.
     He sat at the table where they ate their meals and positioned himself to watch for Violet walking up the steps possibly at any moment.  Be on the lookout. Well, right now I'm more concerned about the girl who loves me beyond all reason coming through the door, not some rogue assassin. How wretched is that?  You're adding more bricks and mortar to your fortress of lies, aren't you, old boy?
     By the time he did see her figure climbing the steps to him in the dying afternoon's dusk, the gun cleaning supplies were safely back in the wardrobe.  The pistol was nestled securely in a left side hidden pocket in his trousers. 
     Violet came through the door with her typewriter and breadbasket and he stood up to meet her.  Her eyes immediately loved him before she even spoke. You don't deserve her at all.
     "I missed our walk home together, Major." Violet commented as a greeting, sitting down the typewriter case near the door. She then carried the bakery basket to the table, and took out the items, explaining how she procured such a gift.
     "Well, I did a good thing when I put the kettle on just now, didn't I?" Gilbert said with a genuine smile.
     They prepared a small evening meal of fresh tea, bread and butter, and a bit of cheese and summer sausage with a sweet sticky bun for a treat.  Despite the events of the day, Gilbert felt almost completely happy listening to Violet describe the sewing machine Jenna would teach her to use as payment for the letter writing.
     "How clever and resourceful," Gilbert commended, which made Violet's beautiful face beam with pride.
He knew it was useless to ask her of either letter she assisted in writing. Violet's strict rule of confidentiality rivaled only that of a novice priest hearing his first confession. Gilbert felt confident of Casper's success at the engineering institute. Not only was the boy brilliant but also had the social skills to make a good leader. Gilbert could honestly say he wished these qualities in a son. . .that is, if he ever had the privilege to sire a son.
While lost in thought of a presently nonexistent child, Violet had cleared the table and lit another lamp by which to read by. But instead of one of his boyhood adventure novels, she had opened the one newspaper that arrived on the island once per week.
It wasn't as if Violet never read the publication, but in light of new developments of possible dangers, Gilbert met the activity of her reading the paper with a sense of suspicion. Violet may know something. It was true she had an extraordinary gift of intuition. But it was also true that she could intercept telegrams. . .
Violet looked up at him, apparently sensing him watching her intently. Gilbert smiled at her warmly.
"How about we go on holiday back to Leiden." he announced and laughed when Violet's mouth dropped open in wide-eyed surprise.
"I'd love to go with you, Major!"she cried. She reached out to take his hand where it lay on the table. "When?"
"Hmmm, classes will break for the summer next week. How does the week after that sound? The 1st sounds best." Three days to Leiden. . .
Violet nodded, squeezing his hand, her mouth smiling with pure and utter joy.
"I love you, Major!" she blurted out, her cheeks crimson.
Gilbert laughed. "I love you, too, my silly, sweet girl."