He seemed a little confused. "No, no," he began, and then altered it into "Yes, yes." Which did he mean, or did he mean anything at all?

"A man in an oilskin coat, with a moustache on his liphere," I went on, touching my own lip, "who goes out at night and walks along the shore; have you seen any one like that?"

Again he seemed to look intelligent, but he only shook his head vaguely.

"Well," I said, "if you do see any one like that let me know, and you will see some more shoots. Also, I shall give you this."

I held up a new half-crown, and he laughed so joyfully that I began to have a faint hope he might prove of some use after all.

And yet when I had left

him and resumed my walk back to the Rendalls' house, my spirits were not very high. As an ally Jook did not impress me with a feeling of great confidence, while his failure to recognise my desoription of the oilskinned man depressed me unreasonably. I told myself that the opinion of the parish idiot on the subject of strangers was of small value. Besides, quite likely the oilskinned man would not be a stranger to the people in the neighbourhood. They might know him familiarly as a prosperous farmer, or a hardy fisherman -or as their own dootor, or their doctor's guest, or-no, be could not be their laird, for Mr Rendall was too tall. In short, my talk with Jock had proved nothing one way or the other.

And yet my whole failure to come upon any trace of the gang, in spite of all my ingenuity, did set me thinking. Could it possibly be that my entire adventure had been a hallucination ? I confessed frankly to myself that I have a pretty lively imagination, and I recalled vividly how I had almost collapsed on my way to the Scollays under the strain of an intense reaction, how my brain had whirled, and how I peopled the farm kitchen with full thrice the number of persons actually assembled. I had been consoious of all that; but supposing my brain had actually begun to whirl half an hour sooner, before I had become conscious of it? Might I not

have imagined my whole mysterious adventure?

It was a nasty thought, for in that case what a superfluous fool I had made of myself since! But I faced it manfully, and sternly asked myself what the opinion of the average hard-headed, soberly-reasoning man would be if he were given the facts, and re

quested to pronounce his verdiot on them. What would be my own verdict if I were told such a yarn? Would I swallow it without demur?

"Be hanged if I would!" I said candidly.

By the time I got back to the big house, I had very nearly ceased to believe in the tale myself.

That evening we were all three sitting in the library (the same old-world room into which I had first been shown), when a servant entered and gave a message to Mr Rendall. He rose and went out, leaving his daughter and myself each apparently immersed in a book. She may genuinely have been, but I was making the covers of mine a screen for inward debate. Had I made a mere fool of myself, and should I make a clean breast of everything to my hosts? Or should I wait a little longer before deciding? I went on thinking after the laird had left the room, and Miss Jean still kept her eyes immovably on her page. I frankly confess I have never cut less ice with any woman — especially one who decidedly attracted me.

In a few minutes her father returned, and said to her

"John Howieson has cried off to-night. I must go myself."

She started up with a word of expostulation, but he merely smiled in his grim way, nodded at her (not at me, I noticed),

and was gone. With a little sigh she sat down again and plunged into her book, but my curiosity had been roused, and in a moment I inquired

"Is your father going out for long?"

Her concern seemed to have broken down her reticence.

"All night," she said. "I wish he wouldn't!”

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"The coast patrol,” said she. "The coast patrol!" I exclaimed. "What's that?"

She seemed to look at me for an instant a little doubtfully before she answered.

"The Admiralty have asked all the Justices of Peace to have the coast patrolled."

"By whom?"

"Anybody they can get. We have the whole island mapped out into beats, and the different farmers take it night about."

For the moment I only half believed her. Such an amateur way of keeping watch and ward in such a vital area seemed hardly credible, but I learned afterwards that in

those early days of the war that was one of the things which actually happened. Another fact also made me doubt ful. On the night I landed I had met no watchers.

"Who watches the shore up at the north end-near the Scollays' farm?" I asked.

"Oh, Dr Rendall and Mr O'Brien look after that beat," said she.

In a flash my belief in my own adventure had begun to return. Either that couple neglected their duty-or I had met one of the watchers!

"Do the doctor and Mr O'Brien ever go out themselves -like your father to-night?" I asked.

"Mr O'Brien goes out pretty often, I believe."

I thought for a moment longer, and then I jumped

utes," she said as she left the room.

"Now, what the devil does this mean?" I said to myself.

Five minutes of course meant quarter of an hour, and then we sallied forth into the night, she in a long tweed coat and I in my inevitable oilskin.

"Which way do you want to go?" she asked.

"Suppose we work our way towards the north end," I suggested.

She said nothing more, and we made our way by a track to the shore, and then turned towards the left. I had been filling my pipe, and when we got to the last stone wall I stopped, bent under its shelter, and struck a match. My face was towards her, and in the fraction of a second before the first match blew out I caught the glimpse of something just visible in the mouth of one of the big pockets of her tweed coat. It was the butt-end of a pistol.

I struck three more matches before I got my pipe alight, and I contrived to face her each time, but she had turned and kept her other side towards me. When we resumed our walk I noticed that she consistently kept two or three yards away from me.

"Just shooting distance!" I said to myself.

"By the way, what are we supposed to be looking for?" I inquired presently.

66

Chiefly periscopes, I think,"

response.

"Do they light them up for us?" I asked.

She laughed despite herself, "That is what I've been wondering myself," said she.

This was her only sympathetic relapse, and, to tell the truth, I made no further remark worthy of being smiled at. That pistol kept me thinking. That she had come out to watch me, and if necessary shoot me, seemed a pretty obvious deduction, and, much as I admired her nerve, it made humorous conversation a trifle difficult.

On we walked-on and on for what seemed an interminable distance. It was quite moonless, and only a few stars twinkled here and there through a veil of light clouds that had drifted up with the sunset. The grass underfoot was black, the sea was nearly 88 dark, and the inland country invisible. Once I remarked

"It's a curious thing that we haven't met any of our fellow-watchers."

"The beats are very long," she said, "and I'm afraid all the watchers don't keep at their posts all the time."

"What! they take a nap now and then?"

She seemed as though she were going to agree, and then to change her mind.

"Oh, we shall meet some one very soon. I think father is taking this beat."

But we met no one, and as we pursued our lonely way I began to think that here was quite a possible reason for my

not having come upon one of these coast patrols two nights ago. Still, it was only a possible reason; the other alternative remained.

And then, I know not how it was, but I began gradually to get a curious impression that something was in the air, something was going to happen. It is easy to say I only imagine now in the retrospect that I had this feeling.

But I noted the sensation clearly and positively at the time. I strained my eyes, I looked this way and that, so strong did the feeling become. Once I thought for a moment I heard soft footsteps somewhere on the inland side, and I stopped short then and listened; but when I stopped I heard nothing.

It can only have been a few minutes after this that the figure at my side (which had been so silent that I had almost forgotten it was a girl, and a pretty girl too) stopped suddenly, and I stood still beside her.

"Do you hear anything?" she asked, and there seemed to be a little catch in her breath.

I listened, and shook my head. I could see that she was gazing intently down at the beach.

"Do you see anything?" I asked in a voice instinctively hushed.

"No," she answered in the same low tone, "but I thought I heard something."

Again I strained my ears, and this time I distinotly did

hear something; it might have been a movement among the rooks below or on the bank ahead of us. She said nothing more, but she seemed to be peering down into the gloom that veiled the beach,

"I'll go down and see what it is," I said.

For an instant I thought she was going to demur; but she said nothing, and with a bold air I stepped off the turf and began to make my way down first through loose boulders, and then along a ledge below. I confess frankly that I felt a trifle less bold than I looked, especially when I discovered the hazardous nature of the going. I remember that the sky began to seem lighter by contrast, but that the rooks were sheer chaotic darkness.

I must have been feeling my way along for some minutes, with a growing sense of the futility of the performance, when I first heard the sharp tinkle of a loose stone on rock. I turned towards the sound and heard it again. Either three or four times I had heard it distinctly when I found myself close to the grass again, only at this place there was a steep little cliff, higher than my head, between it and me, instead of a slope of boulders, so that any one on the bank above would be looking straight down on to me. All this I can swear to.

And then when my shoulder was rubbing this low cliff face, I thought-indeed I am sure

I heard something move above, and certainly there was a sharp grating sound on the rook at my back-within an inch of me it seemed. I looked round quickly just in time to catch a glimpse of something thin and curved and sinister passing upwards against the night sky; I did not see it descend again, but the next moment came the sharp grating, close to my head this time, and once more the long curved menace passed up, faintly visible against the sky.

I did not wait for it to descend again. That somebody was striking at me from above, and that I had better get out of the way, seemed so evident that I spent no further time in watching the operation. I started from the cliff, my feet struck a patch of seaweed, and with a half smothered "Damn!" I did the next few yards sliding seawards on my side. A peculiarly hard ledge stopped my career, and for a moment I lay there wondering what bones were broken. By the time I had found there were none and sorambled to my feet the skyline above the bank was clear. Whoever had struck at me was gone, and there was not even the slightest sound save the gurgling of the sea below. And then I gingerly picked my way back.

I drew near the turf bank at the top, and now again I stopped. Low voices reached my ear distinctly, and presently I spied two vague forms standing close together. Before I moved again I had transferred something from my hip pocket