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DESTROYERS.

Through the dark night

And the fury of battle

Pass the destroyers in showers of spray.
As the Wolf-pack to the flank of the cattle,
We shall close in on them-shadows of grey.
In from ahead,

Through shell-flashes red,

We shall come down to them, after the Day.
Whistle and crash

Of salvo and volley

Round us and into us as we attack.
Light on our target they'll flash in their folly,
Splitting our ears with the shrapnel-crack,
Fire as they will,

We'll come to them still,

Roar as they may at us-Back-Go Back!
White though the sea

To the shell-splashes foaming,

We shall be there at the death of the Hun.
Only we pray for a star in the gloaming
(Light for torpedoes and none for a gun).
Lord-of Thy Grace

Make it a race,

Over the sea with the night to run.

KLAXON.

THE MAN FROM THE CLOUDS.

BY J. STORER CLOUSTON.

PART I.

VII. AT THE MANSION-HOUSE.

As I followed the girl through the hall a man's voice asked

"Is that O'Brien ?" "No," she said; "it's some one to see you, father."

She showed me into a room and closed the door, and in the course of the next few minutes I came to one or two pretty obvious conclusions. She was clearly Mr Rendall's daughter, and they were equally clearly in the habit of receiving visits at odd times from Mr O'Brien; in fact, they evidently conoluded it was he, or Miss Rendall herself would scarcely have opened the door to me. Also, her reply might be taken as implying that if Mr O'Brien had been the visitor it would not have been her father he had come to see. But whether or no this were the true interpretation, I so thoroughly disliked and suspected O'Brien that any suggestion of intimacy was alone enough to make me glad I had started on the defensive.

"Otherwise," said I to myself, "what a charming girl to find in such a place!"

However, I reminded myself that I had not come here to be charmed, and proceeded next to take stock of the room.

It was not large, but pleas

antly proportioned, low in the ceiling, and pervaded with a delicate yet distinct flavour of the past. I found myself instinctively wondering how one could reproduce this particular flavour on the stage; no armour or tapestry or any of the usual antique paraphernalia to be allowed, for beyond the thick walls and rather small windows it was so difficult to lay one's finger on any one specific thing that palpably suggested age. Finally, I decided that it was impossible to re-create such an atmosphere. It was compounded of stillness within and the glimpses of primeval quiet without, of a touch of comfortable shabbiness, of plenty of elderly books, and of a faint odour of the dampness of centuries mingled with the scent of honeysuckle. My suspicions were suddenly lulled, and with that prompt decision which has landed me in and pulled me out of so many holes, I decided to drop my German accent. That the charming Miss Rendall might miss it and wonder what had become of it was (I must confess) a reflection which did not occur to me till afterwards.

Just as I had come to this decision in walked the laird, and in two minutes I had come to another decision, which was

to adhere to the plan of campaign I had thought of as I walked, in so far as keeping my business to myself was concerned. My first impression of Mr Rendall was of height, and a certain quiet, formidable quality. He was grey-haired, with a close-clipped grizzled moustache, loose clothes as though he had shrunk a little in girth, and the unmistakable air of a man who had seen considerably more of the world than the island of Ransay. He received me quite politely and hospitably, but with every moment that passed I grew more acutely conscious of some thing deterrent behind his courtesy. A sense of a strong personality in the background, not actually hostile as yet, but ironic and critical, set me instinctively and instantly on guard. Not that I actually suspected the man, but to take him straightway into my confidence was simply impossible. A man of another temperament might have done so-and quite possibly have been right; but his effect on me was like tapping a limpet.

I gave him my name, and then I said in a quiet confidential way

"Forgive this intrusion, Mr Rendall, but the fact is, my ship has evidently been called away."

I glanced towards the window, and following my look, he could see the smoke of the cruiser just visible on the horizon. He gave a little nod but said nothing.

"I was landed last night on a certain piece of business," I

went on, "and it is no part of that business to make myself conspicuous, and so I have taken the liberty of coming to your house."

"You wish to wait here till your ship returns?" he inquired.

"I thought perhaps you might know of some lodging where I might remain quietly." He smiled slightly.

"You had better stay here. There is no other lodging."

I began to thank him, but he cut me short.

"It is Hobson's choice," said he, "and my house is not overcrowded at present. Have you lunched?"

"I am afraid I haven't." "Come and join us. My daughter and I had just sat down."

He moved towards the door. "I have no luggage," I said.

"I can lend you what you want."

I thanked him again, and said brazenly

"May I ask for the loan of a coat? I am anxious not to exhibit my uniform coat in the island if I can help it."

I thought he looked a trifle surprised (it must be remembered that all this time I was in a buttoned-up oilskin), but he merely nodded again and led me upstairs to a pleasant bedroom with a low ceiling and some heavy old-fashioned mahogany furniture. There he left me, and in a moment returned with a brush and comb and a tweed coat.

I had noticed that in one of the drawers there was a

key, and as I took the coat I said

"I hope you won't think me unduly cautious if I lock my uniform coat up in one of these drawers. There are certain eertain papers in the pockets which I am bound to be careful of."

Again I fancied I caught a brief look of surprise, but it must have been brief, for his face was as inscrutable as ever as he answered

"Do exactly as you like." A maid came with a jug of hot water and then I was alone.

"I wonder if the man believes me?" I said to myself. "Things are going a little too dashed smoothly!"

However, there was nothing for it now but playing the game out. I first took the precaution of suddenly and quietly opening the door. There was nobody at the keyhole, so I took off my oilskin and put on the tweed coat, and then looked up the top drawer and put the key in my pocket. Hardly necessary to say that drawer remained as empty as the others.

"I call that either a very neat dodge or a devilish silly one," I said to myself. "And which it is depends entirely on the results."

As I brushed my hair I thanked my stars I was fair, for a shave was now long overdue.

"What a pirate I'd look if I were a brunette!" I thought, and as it was, the recollection of dainty Miss Rendall made me determined to borrow a razor forthwith.

VOL, CCIV.-NO. MCCXXXIII,

I foresaw that lunch would be a function demanding considerable tact. Seeing that I had decided, rightly or wrongly (and the Lord knew which !), not to trust these people, they had to be kept in a nice equilibrium betwixt doubt and confidence. confidence. To persuade them too thoroughly that they were entertaining a genuine British naval officer would be fatal if they were treasonably inclined, and a serious mistake if they were not, for then they might reassure the other islanders and my gang would go to earth, not to be dug up again in a hurry. On the other hand, to have them too suspicious would be all right if they were treasonable, but would probably end my adventure if they were honest.

The line I selected was a blend of mystery regarding my business, breezy chat on noncommittal topics, and an occasional oddity of eonduet, such as might have been caused by a guilty conscience or a harmless strain of eccentricity (and I left them to make their choice).

Here are a few choice excerpts from our conversation, which I happen to remember more or less verbatim.

Myself (chattily). "Delightful air you have in your island! Like champagne-or perhaps in these parts I ought to say like whisky-and-soda.

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Mr Rendall (somewhat drily). "We do happen to be acquainted with champagne."

Miss Rendall (smiling pleasantly as she hit). "We probably don't look as though we

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were, father. Mr Merton's simile was safer."

Myself (feeling rather an ass, but outwardly gay). "I meant ne reflection on your cellar, Miss Rendall. I was merely aiming at local colour."

At this point I fell abruptly silent, the laugh, as it were, frozen on my lips. I gazed at my plate, and then glanced furtively at my host (I was giving them their choice). The next fragment of conversation which I remember ran somewhat thus

Myself (leading up deliberately to to the test question). "There's one thing I envy the natives of this happy island. What a wonderful show of wild flowers flowers they have! Do they make good grazing?"

Mr Rendall (again drily). “If one happens to have ruminant tastes, I believe they edible."

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Miss Rendall (brightly, but evidently unkindly). "Mr Merton was probably thinking chiefly of the ruminant natives."

Myself (keeping sternly to the point). "I was thinking chiefly of sheep. (With a direct and steady look at the laird.) Are there many sheep on this island?"

Mr Rendall (quite_calmly). "A good many. Are you

anxious for statistios?"

Myself (concealing my disappointment under α brave smile). "Oh no. Please don't mistake me for an intelligent inquirer."

I turned the brave smile on to Miss Rendall. She smiled back very slightly. In her face I seemed to read a trace of scepticism,-as if she did not quite agree with my modest estimate of myself, but at the same time thought none the better of me. would have given a good deal to know exactly what was in her mind. Did she suspect something? And if so, what?

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I had one more shot. It was an inspiration which came to me at the end of lunch when my host offered me a cigar.

"Matches?" he observed, pushing a box towards me. Again I looked at him hard and asked

"Have you such a thing as a wax match ?"

His eyebrows rose slightly. "If you prefer to light a cigar with a cigar with a wax match, I daresay I can find one."

"If Mr Merton doesn't mind waiting for half an hour, perhaps I might diseover a box in the storeroom," said Miss Rendall; and she added demurely, "beside the champagne."

My only consolation was that I was making an idiot of myself in a good cause.

VIII. SUNDAY.

I said good-night early that evening, and did a heap of thinking in my bedroom.

Nothing that Nothing that seems to me now to be worth recording had been said or done since

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