PRISCILLA'S SPIES

By George A. Birmingham

Copyright, 1912, By George H. Doran Company

 To M. E. M. , M. S. R. , D. P. , and L. K. The vision of whose tents I have panned about the bay. 

Contents

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

CHAPTER VII

CHAPTER VIII

CHAPTER IX

CHAPTER X

CHAPTER XI

CHAPTER XII

CHAPTER XIII

CHAPTER XIV

CHAPTER XV

CHAPTER XVI

CHAPTER XVII

CHAPTER XVIII

CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XXI

CHAPTER XXII

PRISCILLA'S SPIES

CHAPTER I

The summer term ended in a blaze of glory for Frank Mannix. It was agenerally accepted opinion in the school that his brilliant catch in thelong field—a catch which disposed of the Uppingham captain—had beenthe decisive factor in winning the most important of matches. And thevictory was particularly gratifying, for Haileybury had been defeatedfor five years previously. There was no doubt at all that the sixty notout made by Mannix in the first innings rendered victory possible in the"cock house" match, and that his performance as a bowler, first change, in the second innings, secured the coveted trophy, a silver cup, forEdmonstone House. These feats were duly recorded by Mr. Dupré, the housemaster, in a neat speech which he made at a feast given in the classroomto celebrate the glory of the house. When the plates of the eleven werefinally cleared of cherry tart and tumblers were refilled with the mostinnocuous claret cup, Mr. Dupré rose to his feet

He chronicled the virtues and successes of the hero of the hour. The catch in the Uppingham match was touched on—a dangerous bat thatUppingham captain. The sixty not out in the house match had beenrewarded with a presentation bat bearing a silver shield on the back ofit. No boy in the house, so Mr. Dupré said, grudged the sixpence whichhad been stopped from his pocket money to pay for the bat. Then, passingto graver matters, Mr. Dupré spoke warmly of the tone of the house, thatindefinable quality which in the eyes of a faithful schoolmaster is moreprecious than rubies. It was Mannix, prefect and member of the lowersixth, who more than any one else deserved credit for the fact thatEdmonstone stood second to no house in the school in the matter of tone. The listening eleven, and the other prefects who, though not membersof the victorious eleven, had been invited to the feast, cheeredvigorously. They understood what tone meant though Mr. Dupré did notdefine it. They knew that it was mainly owing to the determined attitudeof Mannix that young Latimer, who collected beetles and kept tame whitemice, had been induced to wash himself properly and to use a clothesbrush on the legs of his trousers. Latimer's appearance in the olddays before Mannix took him in hand had lowered the tone of the house. Mannix' own appearance—though Mr. Dupré did not mention this—added theweight of example to his precepts. His taste in ties was acknowledged. No member of the school eleven knotted a crimson sash round his waistwith more admired precision. Nor was the success of the hero confinedto the playing fields and the dormitory. Mr. Dupré noted the fact thatMannix had added other laurels to the crown of the house's glory bywinning the head master's prize for Greek iambics. 

Mr. Dupré sat down. Mannix himself, blushing but pleasurably consciousthat his honours were deserved, rose to his feet. As President of theLiterary Society and a debater of formidable quality, he was well ableto make a speech. He chose instead to sing a song. It was one, so heinformed his audience, which Mr. Dupré had composed specially for theoccasion. The tune indeed was old. Every one would recognise it at onceand join in the chorus. The words, and he, Frank Mannix, hoped theywould dwell in the memory of those who sang them, were Mr. Dupré's own. The eleven, the prefects and Mr. Dupré himself joined with uproarioustunefulness in a chorus which went tolerably trippingly to the air of"Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen. "

 "Here's to the House, Edmonstone House. Floreat semper Edmonstone House. " 

Mannix trolled the words out in a clear tenor voice. One after anotherof the eleven, even Fenton, the slow bowler who had no ear for music, picked them up. The noise flowed through the doors and windows of theclassroom. It reached the distant dormitory and stimulated small boys inpyjamas to thrills of envious excitement It was Mannix again, Mannix athis greatest and best, who half an hour later stood up in his place. With an air of authority which became him well he raised his hand andstilled the babbling voices of the enthusiastic eleven. Then, pitchingon a note which brought the tune well within the compass of evenFenton's growling bass, he began the school songs, "Adsis musa canentibus Laeta voce canentibus Longos clara per annos Haileyburia floreat. " 

House feeling, local patriotism to thetune of "The Maiden of Bashful Fifteen, " was well enough. Behind it, deep in the swelling heart of Mannix, lay a wider thing, a kind ofimperialism, a devotion to the school itself. Far across the dimquadrangle rang the words "Haileyburia Floreat. " It was Mannix'sgreatest moment

Three days later the school broke up. Excited farewells were said byboys eagerly pressing into the brakes which bore them to the Hertfordstation. Mannix, one of the earliest to depart, went off from the midstof a group of admirers. It was understood by his friends that he was tospend the summer fishing in the west of Ireland—salmon fishing. Therewould be grouse shooting too. Mannix had mentioned casually a salmon rodand a new gun. Happy Mannix!

The west of Ireland is a remote region, wild no doubt, half barbarousperhaps. Even Mr. Dupré, who knew almost all things knowable, admitted, as he shook hands with his favorite pupil, that he knew the west ofIreland only by repute. But Mannix might be relied on to sustainin those far regions the honour of the school. Small boys, bornhero-worshippers, gathered in groups to await the brakes which shouldcarry them to less splendid summer sports, and spoke to each other inconfidence of the salmon which Mannix would catch and the multitude ofgrouse which would fall before the explosions of his gun. 

CHAPTER II

Edward Mannix, Esq. , M. P. , father of the fortunate Frank, holds theoffice of Parliamentary Under-Secretary of the War Office, a positionof great importance at all times, but particularly so under thecircumstances under which Mannix held it. His chief, Lord Tolerton, Secretary of State for War, was incapacitated by the possession of amarquisate from sitting in the House of Commons. It was the duty, the very onerous duty, of Mr. Edward Mannix to explain to therepresentatives of the people who did not agree with him in politicsthat the army, under Lord Torrington's administration, was adequatelyarmed and intelligently drilled. The strain overwhelmed him, and hisdoctor ordered him to take mud baths at Schlangenbad. Mrs. Mannixbehaved as a good wife should under such circumstances. She lifted everycare, not directly connected with the army, from her husband's mind. The beginning of Frank's holidays synchronised with the close of theparliamentary session. She arranged that Frank should spend the holidayswith Sir Lucius Lentaigne in Rosnacree. She had every right to demandthat her son should be allowed to catch the salmon and shoot the grouseof Sir Lucius. Lady Lentaigne, who died young, was Mrs. Mannix's sister. Sir Lucius was therefore Frank's uncle. Edward Mannix, M. P. , worriedby Lord Torrington and threatened by his doctor, acquiesced in thearrangement. He ordered a fishing rod and a gun for Frank. He sent theboy a ten-pound note and then departed, pleasantly fussed over by hiswife, to seek new vigour in the mud of Germany. 

Frank Mannix, seventeen years old, prefect and hero, stretched himselfwith calm satisfaction in a corner of a smoking carriage in the Irishnight mail. Above him on the rack were his gun-case, his fishing-rod, neatly tied into its waterproof cover, and a brown kit-bag. He smokeda nice Egyptian cigarette, puffing out from time to time large fragrantclouds from mouth and nostrils. His fingers, the fingers of the handwhich was not occupied with the cigarette, occasionally caressed hisupper lip. A fine down could be distinctly felt there. In a good lightit could even be seen. Since the middle of the Easter term he had foundit necessary to shave his chin and desirable to stimulate the growthupon his upper lip with occasional applications of brilliantine. He wasthoroughly satisfied with the brown tweed suit which he wore, a pleasantchange of attire after the black coats and grey trousers enjoined by theschool authorities. He liked the look of a Burberry gabardine which laybeside him on the seat. There was a suggestion of sport about it; yetit in no way transgressed the line of good taste. Frank Mannix was awarethat his ties had set a lofty standard to the school. He felt sure thathis instinctive good taste had not deserted him in choosing the brownsuit and the gabardine. 

Of his boots he was a little doubtful. Their brown was aggressive; butthat, so the gentleman in Harrod's Stores who sold them had assured him, would pass away in time. Aggressiveness of colour is inevitable in newbrown boots. 

At Rugby he lit a second cigarette and commented on the warmth ofthe night to an elderly gentleman who entered the carriage from thecorridor. The elderly gentleman was uncommunicative and merely growledin reply. Mannix offered him a match. The gentleman growled again andlit his cigar from his own matchbox. Mannix arrived at the conclusionthat he must be, for some reason, in a bad temper. He watched him for awhile and then decided further that he was, if not an actual "bounder, "at all events "bad form. " The elderly gentleman had a red, blotchedface, a thick neck, and swollen hands, with hair on the backs of them. He wore a shabby coat, creased under the arms, and trousers which baggedbadly at the knees. Mannix, had the elderly gentleman happened to be asmall boy in Edmonstone House, would have felt it his duty to impart tohim something of the indefinable quality of tone. 

Shortly before reaching Crewe, the old gentleman having smokedthree cigars with fierce vigour, left the carriage. Mannix, feelingdisinclined for more tobacco, went to sleep. At Holyhead he was wakenedfrom a deep and dreamless slumber. A porter took his kit-bag and wantedto relieve him also of the gun-case, the fishing-rod, and the gabardine. But Mannix, even in his condition of half awakened giddiness clungto these. He followed the porter across a stretch of wooden pier, gotinvolved in a crowd of other passengers at the steamer's gangway, andwas hustled by the elderly gentleman who had smoked the three cigars. He still seemed to be in a bad temper. After hustling Mannix, he swore, pushed a porter aside and forced his way across the gangway. Mannix, nowalmost completely awake, resented this behaviour very much and decidedthat the elderly gentleman was not in any real sense of the word agentleman, but simply a cad. 

Indignation, though a passion of a harassing nature, does not actuallyprevent sleep in a man of seventeen years of age who is in good generalhealth. Mannix coiled himself up on one of the sofas which line thecorridors of the Irish mail steamers. He was dimly conscious of seeingthe old gentleman who had hustled him trip over the gun case which layat the side of the sofa. Then he fell asleep. He was wakened—it seemedto him rather less than five minutes later—by a steward who told himthat the steamer was rapidly approaching Kingstown Pier. He got up andsought for means to wash. It is impossible for a self-respecting man whohas been brought up at an English public school to begin the day in goodhumour unless he is able to wash himself thoroughly. But the designerof the steamers of this particular line did not properly appreciate thefact He provided a meagre supply of basins for the passengers, many ofwhom, in consequence, land at Kingstown Pier in irritable moods, FrankMannix was one of them. 

The elderly gentleman, who appeared less than ever a gentleman at fiveo'clock in the morning, was another. Mannix retained, in spite of hissleepiness and his sensation of grime, a slight amount of self-control. He was moderately grateful to an obsequious sailor who relieved him ofhis kit bag. He carried, as he had the night before, his own gun-caseand fishing-rod. The elderly gentleman, who carried nothing, had noself-control whatever. He swore at the overburdened sailor who took histhings ashore for him. Mannix proceeded in his turn to cross the gangwayand was unceremoniously pushed from behind by the elderly gentleman. Heprotested with frigid politeness. 

"Don't dawdle, boy, don't dawdle, " said the elderly gentleman. 

"Don't hustle, " said Mannix. "This isn't a football scrimmage. "

In order to say this effectively he stopped in the middle of the gangwayand turned round. 

"Damn it all, " said the elderly gentleman, "go on and don't try to beinsolent. "

Mannix was a prefect. He had, moreover, disposed of the captain of theUppingham eleven by a brilliant catch in the long field at a criticalmoment of an important match. He had been praised in public by no lessa person than Mr. Dupré for his excellent influence on the tone ofEdmonstone House. He was not prepared to be sworn at and insulted bya red-faced man with hairy hands at five o'clock in the morning. Heflushed hotly and replied, "Damn it all, sir, don't be an infernal cad. "The elderly gentleman pushed him again, this time with some violence. Mannix stumbled, got his fishing-rod entangled in the rail of thegangway, swung half round and then fell sideways on the pier. Thefishing-rod, plainly broken in pieces, remained in his hand. Thegun-case bumped along the pier and was picked up by a porter. Mannix wasextremely angry. A tall lady, apparently connected with the offensivered-faced gentleman, observed in perfectly audible tones that schoolboysought not to be allowed to travel without some one in charge of them. Mannix's anger rose to boiling point at this addition of calculatedinsult to deliberate injury. He struggled to his feet, intendingthen and there to speak some plain truths to his assailant. He wasimmediately aware of a pain in his ankle. A pain so sharp as to makewalking quite impossible. The sailor who carried his bag sympathisedwith him and helped him into the train. He felt the injured anklecarefully and came to the conclusion that it was sprained. 

Between Kingstown and Dublin Mannix arranged plans for handing over hisassailant to the police. That seemed to him the most dignified form ofrevenge open to him. He was fully determined to take it. Unfortunatelyhis train carried him, slowly indeed, but inexorably, to the stationfrom which another train, the one in which he was to travel westwards toRosnacree, took its departure. The elderly gentleman and the lady withthe insolent manner, whose destination was Dublin itself, had leftKingstown in a different train. Mannix saw no more of them and so wasunable to get them handcuffed. 

Two porters helped him along the platform at Broadstone Station andsettled him in a corner of the breakfast carriage of the westward goingmail. A very sympathetic attendant offered to find out whether there wasa doctor in the train. It turned out that there was not. The sympatheticattendant, with the help of a young ticket-collector in a neat uniformoffered to do the best he could for his ankle. The cook joined them, leaving a quantity of bacon hissing in his pan. He was a man of somesurgical knowledge. 

"It's hot water, " he said, "that's best for the like of that. "

"It could be, " said the ticket-collector, "that it's broke on him. "

"Cold water, " said Mannix firmly. 

"With a sup of whiskey in it, " said the attendant

"If it's broke, " said the ticket-collector, "and you go putting whiskeyand water on it it's likely that the young gentleman will be lame forlife. "

"Maybe now, " said the cook derisively, "you'd be in favour of soda waterwith the squeeze of a lemon in it. "

"I would not, " said the ticket-collector, "but a drop of sweet oil theway the joint would be kept supple. "

"Get a jug of cold water, " said Mannix, "and something that will do fora bandage. "

The attendant, with a glance at the cook, compromised the matter. Hebrought a basin full of lukewarm water and a table napkin. The cookwrapped the soaked napkin round the ankle. The ticket-collector tied itin its place with a piece of string. The attendant coaxed the sock overthe bulky bandage. The new brown boot could by no means be persuaded togo on. It was packed by the attendant in the kit bag. 

"It's my opinion, " said the ticket-collector, "that you'd get damagesout of the steamboat company if you was to process them. "

Mannix did not want to attack the steamboat company. He felt vindictive, but his anger was all di-rected against the man who had injured him. 

"There was a fellow I knew one time, " said the ticket-collector, "thatgot £200 out of this company, and he wasn't as bad as you nor near it. "

"I remember that well, " said the attendant "It was his elbow hedislocated, and him getting out at the wrong side of the carriage. "

"He'd have got more, " said the ticket-collector. "He'd have got £500instead of £200 if so be he'd have gone into the court, but that's whathe couldn't do, by reason of the fact that he happened to be travellingwithout a ticket when the accident came on him. "

He gazed thoughtfully out of the window as he spoke. 

"It might have been that, " said the attendant, "which was the cause ofhis getting out at the wrong side of the carriage. "

"He tried it, " said the ticket-collector, still looking straight infront of him, "because he hadn't a ticket. "

No one spoke for a minute. The story of the fraudulent traveller whosecured £200 in damages was an affecting one. At length the cook brokethe silence. 

"The young gentleman here, " he said, "has his ticket right enoughsurely. "

"He may have, " said the ticket-collector. 

"I have, " said Mannix, fumbling in his pocket "Here it is. "

"I'm obliged to you, " said the ticket-collector. "It was it I wanted tosee. "

"Then why didn't you ask me for it?" said Mannix. 

"He wouldn't do the like, " said the attendant, "and you with maybe abroken leg. "

"I would not, " said the ticket-collector. "It would be a queer thing forme to be bothering you about a ticket, and me just after tying a bit ofcord round as nasty a leg as ever I seen. "

"But when you wanted to see the ticket—" said Mannix. 

"I drew down the subject of tickets, " said the collector, "the way you'doffer me a look at yours, if so be you had one, but as for asking youfor it and you in pain, it's what I wouldn't do. "

There are travellers, cantankerous people, who complain that Irishrailway officials are not civil. Perhaps English porters and guards mayexcel them in the plausible lip service which anticipates a tip. Butin the Irishman there is a natural delicacy of feeling which expressesitself in lofty kinds of courtesy. An Englishman, compelled by a senseof duty to see the ticket of a passenger, would have asked for it withcallous bluntness. The Irishman, knowing that his victim was in pain, approached the subject of tickets obliquely, hinting by means of ananecdote of great interest, that people have from time to time beenknown to defraud railway companies. 

CHAPTER III

Rosnacree House, the home of Sir Lucius Lentaigne and his ancestorssince the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes brought the family toIreland in search of religious freedom, stands high on a wooded slopeabove the southern shore of a great bay. From the dining-room windows, so carefully have vistas been cut through the trees, there is a broadprospect of sea and shore. For eight miles the bay stretches north tothe range of hills which bound it. For five or six miles westward itswaters are dotted over with islands. There are, the people say, threehundred and sixty-five of them, so that a fisher-man with a taste forexploration, could such a one be found, might land on a differentisland every day for a whole year. Long promontories, some of them to bereckoned with the three hundred and sixty-five islands when the tideis high, run far out from the mainland. Narrow channels, windingbewilderingly, eat their way for miles among the sea-saturate fieldsof the eastward lying plain. The people, dwelling with pardonable prideupon the peculiarities of their coast line, say that any one who walkedfrom the north to the south side of the bay, keeping resolutely alongthe high-tide mark, would travel altogether 200 miles. He would reachafter his way-faring a spot which, measured on the map, would be justeight miles distant from the point of his departure. Sir Lucius, wholoved his home, while he sometimes affects to despise it, says thathe believes this estimate of the extent of the sea's meanderings to beapproximately correct, but adds that he has never yet met any one withcourage enough to attempt the walk. You do, in fact, come suddenly onsalt-water channels in the midst of fields at long distances from thesea, and find cockles on stretches of mud where you might expect frogspawn or black slugs. Therefore, it is quite likely that the high-tideline would really, if it were stretched out straight, reach right acrossIreland and far put into St. George's Channel. 

In Rosnacree House, along with Sir Lucius, lives Juliet Lentaigne, hismaiden sister, elderly, intellectual, dominating, the competent mistressof a sufficient staff of servants. She lived there in her girlhood. Shereturned to live there after the death of Lady Lentaigne. Priscilla, SirLucius' only child, comes to Rosnacree House for such holidays as aregranted by a famous Dublin school. She was sent to the school at the ageof eleven because she rebelled against her aunt. Having reached the ageof fifteen she rebels more effectively, whenever the coming of holidaysaffords opportunity. 

Being a young woman of energy, determination and skill in rebellion, she made an assault upon her Aunt Juliet's authority on the very firstmorning of her summer holidays. She began at breakfast time. 

"Father, " she said, "I may go to meet Cousin Frank at the train, mayn'tI?"

"Certainly, " said Sir Lucius. 

It was right that some one should meet Frank Mannix on his arrival. Sir Lucius did not want to do so himself. A youth of seventeen is atroublesome guest, difficult to deal with. He is neither man enoughto associate on quite equal terms with grown men nor boy enough to beturned loose to play according to his own devices. Sir Lucius did notlook forward to the task of entertaining his nephew. He was pleased thatPriscilla should take some part, even a small part, of the business offhis hands. 

Priscilla glanced triumphantly at her aunt. 

"There is no possible objection, " said Miss Lentaigne, "to your meetingyour cousin at the train, but if you are to do so you cannot spend themorning in your boat. "

Priscilla thought she could. 

"I'm only going as far as Delginish to bathe, " she said. "I'll be backin lots of time. "

"Be sure you are, " said Sir Lucius. 

"After being out in the boat, " said Miss Lentaigne, "you will be bothdirty and untidy, certainly not fit to meet your cousin at the train. "

Priscilla, who had a good deal of experience of boats, knew that heraunt's fears were well founded. But she had not yet reached the age atwhich a girl thinks it desirable to be clean, tidy and well dressedwhen she goes to meet a strange cousin. She treated Miss Lentaigne'sopposition as beneath contempt. 

"I must bathe, " she said, "It's the first day of the hols. "

"Holidays, " said Miss Lentaigne. 

"Sylvia Courtney, " said Priscilla, "who won the prize for Englishliterature at school calls them 'hols. '"

"That, " said Sir Lucius, "settles it. The authority of any one who winsa first prize in English literature——"

"And besides, " said Priscilla, "she said it, hols that is, to MissPettigrew when she was asking when they began. _She_ didn't object. "

Miss Lentaigne poured out her second cup of tea in silence. AgainstMiss Pettigrew's tacit approval of the word there was no arguing. MissPettigrew, the head of a great educational establishment, does more thanwin, she awards prizes in English literature. 

Priscilla, released from the tedium of the breakfast table, sped downthe long avenue on her bicycle. Across the handle bars was tied abundle, her towel and scarlet bathing dress. From the back of thesaddle, wobbling perilously, hung a much larger bundle, a new lug sail, the fruit of hours and hours of toilsome needlework on the wet days ofthe Christmas "hols. "

From the gate at the end of the avenue the road runs straight and steepinto the village. At the lower end of the village is the harbour, withits long, dilapidated quay. This is the centre of the village life. Hereare, occasionally, small coasting steamers laden with coal or flour, andheavy brigantines or topsail schooners which have felt their way fromdistant English ports round a wildly inhospitable stretch of coast. Here, almost always, are the bluff-bowed hookers from the outer islands, seeking cargoes of flour and yellow Indian meal, bringing in exchangefish, dried or fresh, and sometimes turf for winter fuel. Here aresmaller boats from nearer islands which have come in on the morning tidecarrying men and women bent on marketing, which will spread brown sailsin the evening and bear their passengers home again. Here at her redbuoy lies Sir Lucius' smartly varnished pleasure boat, the _Tortoise_, reckoned "giddy" in spite of her name by staid, cautious island folk;but able, with her centre board and high peaked gunter lug to sailround and round any other boat in the bay. Here, brilliantly green, liesPriscilla's boat, the _Blue Wanderer_, a name appropriate two years agowhen she was blue, less appropriate last year, when Peter Walsh made amistake in buying paint, and grieved Priscilla greatly by turning outthe _Blue Wanderer_ a sober grey. This year, though the name stillsticks to her, it is less suitable still, for Priscilla, buying thepaint herself at Easter time, ordained that the _Blue Wanderer_ shouldbe green. 

Above the quay, at the far side of the fair green, stands Brannigan'sshop, a convenient and catholic establishment. To the left of the dooras you enter, is the shop of a publican, equipped with a bar and asheltering partition for modest drinkers. To the right, if you turn thatway, is a counter at which you can buy anything, from galvanised ironrowlocks to biscuits and jam. On the low window sills of both windowssit rows of men who for the most part earn an honest living by watchingthe tide go in and out and by making comments on the boats whichapproach or leave the quay. It is difficult to find out who pays themfor doing these things, but it is plain that some one does, for they arenot men of funded property, and yet they live, live comfortably, drink, smoke, eat occasionally and are sufficiently clothed. Of only one amongthem can it be said with certainty that he is in receipt of regular payfrom anybody. Peter Walsh earns five shillings a week by watching overthe _Tortoise_ and the _Blue Wanderer_. 

Priscilla leaped off her bicycle at the door of Bran-nigan's shop. Themen on the window sills took no notice of her. They were absorbed inwatching the operation of warping round the head of a small steamerwhich lay far down the quay. The captain had run out a hawser andmade the end of it fast to a buoy at the far side of the fair-way. Adonkey-engine on the steamer's deck was clanking vigorously, hauling inthe hawser, swinging the head of the steamer round, a slow but deeplyinteresting manoeuvre. "Peter Walsh, " said Priscilla, "is that you?" "Itis, Miss, " said Peter, "and it's proud and pleased I am to see you homeagain. " "Is the _Blue Wanderer_ ready for me?" "She is, Miss. The minuteyou like to step into her she's there for you. There's a new pair ofrowlocks and I've a nice bit of rope for a halyard for the little lug. Is it it you have tied on the bicycle?"

"It is, " said Priscilla, "and it's a good sail, half as big again as theold one. "

"I'd be glad now, " said Peter, "if you'd make that same halyard fast tothe cleat on the windward side any time you might be using the sail. "

"Do you think I'm a fool, Peter?"

"I do not, Miss; but sure you know as well as I do that the mast that'sin her isn't over and above strong, and I wouldn't like anything wouldhappen. "

"There's no wind any way. "

"There is not; but I wouldn't say but there might be at the turn of thetide. "

"Haul her up to the slip, " said Priscilla. "I'll be back again longbefore the tide turns. "

The steamer swung slowly round. The rattle of her donkey-engine wasplainly audible. The warp made fast to the buoy dipped into the water, strained taut dripping, and then dipped again. Suddenly the captain onthe bridge shouted. The engine stopped abruptly. The warp sagged deepinto the water. A small boat with one man in her appeared close underthe steamer's bows, went foul of the warp and lay heavily listed whileone of her oars fell into the water and drifted away. 

"That's a nice sort of fool to be out in a boat by himself, " saidPriscilla. 

"He was damn near having to swim for it, " said Peter, as the boatrighted herself and slipped over the warp. 

"Who is he?"

"I don't rightly know who he is, " said Peter, "but he paid four poundsfor the use of Flanagan's old boat for a fortnight, so I'm thinking hehas very little sense. "

"He has none, " said Priscilla. "Look at him now. "

The man, deprived of one of his oars, was pushing his way along thesteamer's side towards the quay. The captain was swearing heartily athim from the bridge. 

"Anyhow, " said Priscilla, "I haven't time to stay here and see himdrown, though of course it would be interesting. I'm going to bathe andI have to get back again in time to meet the train. "

Peter Walsh laid the _Blue Wanderer_ alongside the slip. He lacedthe new lug to its yard, made fast the tack and hoisted it, gazingcritically at it as it rose. Then he stepped out of the boat. Priscillaflung her bathing-dress and towel on board and took her seat in thestern. 

"You'll find the tiller under the floor board, Miss. With the littleair of wind there is from the south you'll slip down to Delginish easyenough if it's there you're thinking of going. "

"Shove her head round now, Peter, and give her a push off. I'll get wayon her when I'm out a bit from the slip. "

The sail flapped, bellied, flapped again, finally swung over tostarboard. Priscilla settled herself in the stern with the sheet in herhand. 

"The tide's under you, Miss, " said Peter Walsh, "You'll slip out easyenough. "

The _Blue Wanderer_, urged by the faint southerly breeze, slid along. The water was scarcely rippled by the wind but the tide ran strongly. One buoy after another was passed. A large black boat lay alongside thequay, loaded heavily with gravel. The owner leaned over his gunwale andgreeted Priscilla. She replied with friendly familiarity. 

"How are you, Kinsella? How's Jimmy and the baby? I expect the baby'sgrown a lot. "

"You're looking fine yourself, Miss, " said Joseph Antony Kinsella. "Thebaby and the rest of them is doing grand, thanks be to God. "

The _Blue Wanderer_ slipped past. She reached one and then anotherof the perches which mark the channel into the harbour. The breezefreshened slightly. Little wavelets formed under the _Blue Wandere's_bow and curled outwards from her sides, spreading slowly and then fadingaway in her wake. Priscilla drew a biscuit from her pocket and munchedit contentedly. 

Right ahead of her lay the little island of Delginish with a sharplyshelving gravel shore. On the northern side of it stood two warning redperches. There were rocks inside them, rocks which were covered at fulltide and half tide, but pushed up their brown sea-weedy backs when thetide was low. Priscilla put down her tiller, hauled on her sheet andslipped in through a narrow passage. She rounded the eastern cornerof the island and ran her boat ashore in a little bay. She lowered thesail, slipped off her shoes and stockings and pushed the boat out. A fewyards from the shore, she dropped her anchor and waited till the boatswung shorewards again to the length of her anchor rope. Then, with herbathing-dress in her hand she waded to the land. The tide was falling. Priscilla had been caught more than once by an ebbing tide with a boatleft high and dry. It was not an easy matter to push the Blue Wandererdown a stretch of stony beach. Precautions had to be taken to keep herafloat. 

A few minutes later, a brilliant scarlet figure, she was wading outagain, knee deep, waist deep. Then with a joyful plunge she swam forwardthrough the sun-warmed water. She came abreast of the corner of herbay, the eastern point of Delginish, turned on her back and splasheddeliciously, sending columns of glistening foam high into the air. Standing upright with outspread hands and head thrown back, she trodwater, gazing straight up into the sky. She lay motionless on her back, totally immersed save for eyes, nostrils and mouth. A noise of oarsroused her. She rolled over, swam a stroke or two, and saw Flanagan'sold boat come swiftly down the channel. The stranger, who had courteddisaster by fouling the steamer's warp, tugged unskilfully at his oars. He headed for the island. Priscilla shouted to him. 

"Keep out, " she said. "You're going straight for the rocks. "

The young man in the boat turned round and stared at her. 

"Pull your right oar, " said Priscilla. 

The young man pulled both oars hard, missed the water with his rightand fell backwards to the bottom of the boat. His two feet stuck upridiculously. Priscilla laughed. The boat, swept forward by the tide, grounded softly on the sea wrack which covered the rocks. 

"There you are, now, " said Priscilla. "Why didn't you do what I toldyou?"

The young man struggled to his feet, seized an oar and began to pushviolently. 

"That's no use, " said Priscilla, swimming close under the rocks. "You'llhave to hop out or you'll be stuck there till the tide rises, and thatwon't be till swell on in the afternoon. "

The young man eyed the water doubtfully. Then he spoke for the firsttime. 

"Is it very deep?" he said. 

"Where you are, " said Priscilla, "it's quite shallow, but if you stepover the edge of the rock there's six foot of water and more. "

The young man sat down and began to unlace his boots. 

"If you wait to do that, " said Priscilla, "you'll be high and dryaltogether. Never mind your boots. Hop out and shove. "

He stepped cautiously over the side of his boat, seized his gunwaleand shoved. The boat slipped off the rock, stern first. The young manstaggered, loosed his hold on her and then stood gaping helplessly, ankle deep in water perched on a very slippery rock, while the boatslipped away from him, stemming the tide as long as the impulse of hispush lasted. 

"What shall I do now?" he asked. 

"Stand where you are, " said Priscilla. "She'll drift down to you again. I'll give her a shove so that she'll come right up to you. "

She swam after the boat and laid a hand on her gunwale. Then, kickingand splashing, guided her back to the young man on the rock. He climbedon board. 

"Where do you suppose you're going?" asked Priscilla. 

"To an island, " said the young man. 

"If one island is the same to you as another, " said Priscilla, "and youhaven't any particular one in your mind, I'd advise you to stop at thisone. "

"But I have. "

"Which one?"

The young man looked at her suspiciously and then took his oars. 

"I hope your island is quite near, " said Priscilla, "For if it isn'tyou're not likely to get there. Were you ever in a boat before?"

The young man pulled a few strokes and got his boat into the channelbeyond the red perches. 

"I think, " said Priscilla, "that you might say 'thank you, ' Only for meyou'd have been left stranded on that rock till the tide rose again andfloated you off somewhere between four and five o'clock this afternoon. "

"Thank you, " said the young man, "thank you very much indeed. "

"But where are you going?"

The question seemed to frighten him. He began to row with desperateenergy. In a few minutes he was far down the channel Priscilla watchedhim. Then she swam to her bay, pushed the _Blue Wanderer_ a littlefurther from the shore and landed. 

The island of Delginish is a pleasant spot on a warm day. Above itsgravel beach rises a slope of coarse short grass, woven through withwild thyme and yellow crowtoe. Sea-pinks cluster on the fringe of grassand delicate groups of fairy-flax are bright-blue in stony places. Redcentaury and yellow bed-straw and white bladder campion flourish. Tinywild roses, clinging to the ground, fleck the green with spots ofvivid white. The sun reaches every yard of the shadeless surface of theisland. Here and there grey rocks peep up, climbed over, mellowed byolive green stonecrops. Priscilla, glowing from her bath, lay fullstretch among the flowers, drawing deep breaths of scented air andgazing at the sky. But nothing was further from her mind than soulfulsentimentalising over the beauties of nature. She was puzzling about theyoung man who had left her, endeavoring to arrive at some theory of whohe was and what he could be doing in Rosnacree. After awhile she turnedover on her side, fumbled in her pocket and drew out two more biscuitsin crumbly fragments. She munched them contentedly. 

At eleven o'clock she raised herself slowly on one elbow and lookedround. The tide had nearly reached its lowest, and the Blue Wanderer layhalf in, half out of the water; her stern perched high, her bow with theuseless anchor rope depending from it, dipped deep. Priscilla realisedthat she had no time to lose. She put her shoulder to the stern ofthe boat and pushed, springing on board as the boat floated. The BlueWanderer, even with her new lug sail, does not work well to windward. Itis possible by very careful steering to make a little by tacking if thebreeze is good and the tide is running favourably. With a light wind andin the slack water of the ebb the most that can be done is not to go toleeward. Priscilla, with the necessity of meeting a train present in hermind, unstepped the mast and took her oars. In twenty minutes she wasalongside the slip where Peter Walsh stood waiting for her. 

"I was talking to Joseph Anthony Kinsella, " he said, "since you wereout—him that lives beyond in Inishbawn. "

"Were you?" said Priscilla. "I saw him in his boat as I was going out, with a big load of gravel on board. He says the baby's all right. "

"It may be, " said Peter. "Any way, he said nothing to the contrary whenhe was with me. It wasn't the baby we were speaking of. Will you mindyourself now, Miss. That slip is terribly slippery at low tide onaccount of the green weed that does be growing on it Take care but youmight fall. "

The warning came a little too late. Priscilla stepped from the boat andimmediately fell forward on her hands and knees. When she rose there wasa large, damp green patch on the front of her dress. 

"Will you look at that, now?" said Peter. "Didn't I tell you to go easy?Are you hurted, Miss?"

"If it wasn't the new baby you were talking about, " said Priscilla, "what was it?"

"Joseph Anthony Kinsella is just after telling me that he's seen thatyoung fellow that has Flanagan's old boat out beyond among the islands. "

"Which island? I asked him, but he wouldn't tell me. "

"Joseph Anthony didn't rightly know, but it's his belief that he's onIlaunglos, or Ardilaun, or one of them to the north of Carrowbee. "

"He can't be living there, then. There isn't a house on any of thoseislands. "

"Joseph Anthony was saying that he might maybe have a tent with himand be sleeping in it the same as the tinkers would. I've heard of thelike. "

"Did he see the tent?"

"He did not; but there could be a tent without his seeing it. What Iseen myself was the things the young fellow bought in Brannigan's andput into Flanagan's old boat. He had a can of paraffin oil with a corkdrove into the neck of it, and he'd two loaves of bread done up inbrown paper, and he'd a couple of tins that might be meat of one kindor another, and along with them he had a pound of tea and maybe two ofsugar. I misdoubted when I saw him carrying them down the quay, but itwas some kind of a picnic he was out for. Them kind of fellows has verylittle sense. "

"I expect, " said Priscilla, "that he'll be drowned before long, and thenthey'll find some papers on his body that'll tell us who he is. I mustbe off now, Peter, or I'll be late for the train. "

"You're time enough, Miss. Sure them trains is never punctual. "

"They are not, " said Priscilla, "except on the days when you happen tobe late for them. Then they make a point of being up to the minute justto score off you. "

CHAPTER IV

The train, as Priscilla prophesied, was strictly punctual. It was drawnup at the platform when she leaped off her bicycle in front of thestation. As she passed through the gate she came face to face with FrankMannix supported by the station master and the guard. 

"Hullo!" she said. "You're my cousin Frank, I suppose. You look rathersick. "

Frank gazed at her. 

"Are you Priscilla?" he asked. 

He had formed no very definite mental picture of his cousin beforehand. Little girls of fifteen years of age are not creatures of great interestto prefects who have made remarkable catches in the long field and lookforward to establishing their manhood among the salmon and the grouse. So far as he had thought of Priscilla at all he had placed her in thebackground, a trim, unobtrusive maiden, who came down to dessert afterdinner and was kept under proper control at other times by a governess. It shocked him a little to see a girl in a tousled blue cotton frock, with a green stain on the front of it, with a tangle of damp fair hairhanging round her head in shining strings, with unabashed fearless eyeswhich looked at him with a certain shrewd merriment. 

"You look wobbly, " said Priscilla. "Can't you walk by yourself?"

"I've met with an accident, " said Frank. 

"That's all right. I was afraid just at first that you might be the sortthat collapsed altogether after being seasick. Some people do, you know, and they're never much good for anything. I'm glad you're not one ofthem. Accidents are different of course. Nobody can ever be quite sureof not meeting an accident. "

She glanced at the stain on the front of her dress as she spoke. It wasthe result of an accident. 

"I've sprained my ankle, " said Frank. 

"It's my belief, " said the guard, "that the young gentleman's leg isbroke on him. That's what the ticket-collector was after telling me atthe junction any way. "

"Would you like me to cut off your sock?" said Priscilla. "Thestation-master's wife would lend me a pair of scissors. She's sure tohave a pair. Almost everybody has. "

"No, I wouldn't, " said Frank. 

There had been trouble enough in getting the sock on over the damp tablenapkin. He had no wish to have it taken off again unnecessarily. 

"All right, " said Priscilla, "I won't if you'd rather not of course; butit's the proper thing to do for a sprained ankle. Sylvia Courtney toldme so and she attended a course of Ambulance lectures last term andlearnt all about first aid on the battle-field. I wanted to go to thoselectures frightfully, but Aunt Juliet wouldn't let me. Rather rot Ithought it at the time, but I saw afterwards that she couldn't possiblyon account of her principles. "

Frank, following Priscilla's rapid thought with difficulty, supposedthat Ambulance lectures, dealing necessarily with the human body, mightbe considered by some people slightly unsuitable for young girls, andthat Aunt Juliet was a lady who set a high value on propriety. Priscillaoffered a different explanation. 

"Christian Science, " she said. "That's Aunt Juliet's latest. There'salways something. Can you sit on a car?"

"Oh yes, " said Frank. "If I was once up I could sit well enough. "

"Let you make your mind easy about getting up, " said the station-master. "We'll have you on the side of the car in two twos. "

They hoisted him up, Priscilla giving advice and directions while theydid so. Then she took her bicycle from a porter who held it for her. 

"The donkey-trap will bring your luggage, " she said. "It will be allright. "

She turned to the coachman. 

"Drive easy now, James, " she said, "and mind you don't let the cob shywhen you come to the new drain that they're digging outside the courthouse. There's nothing worse for a broken bone than a sudden jar. That'sanother thing that was in the Ambulance lectures. "

The car started. Priscilla rode alongside, keeping within speakingdistance of Frank. 

"But my ankle's not broken, " he said. 

"It may be. Anyhow I expect a jar is just as bad for a sprain. Verylikely the lecturer said so and Sylvia Courtney forgot to tell me. Pretty rotten luck this, for you, Cousin Frank, on account of thefishing. You can't possibly fish and the river's in splendid order. Father said so yesterday. But perhaps Aunt Juliet will be able to cureyou. She thinks she can cure anything. "

"I shall be all right, " said Frank, "when I can rest my leg a bit—Idon't think it's really bad I daresay at the end of a week——"

"If Aunt Juliet cures you at all she'll do it quicker than that. She hadFather out of bed the day after he got influenza last Easter hols. Hevery nearly died afterwards on account of having to travel up to Dublinto go to a nursing home when his temperature was 400 and something, butAunt Juliet said he was perfectly well all the time; so she may be ableto fix up that ankle of yours. "

They have, so it is understood, tried experiments in vegetarianismat Haileybury; but Christian Science is not yet part of the regularcurriculum even on the modern side. Frank Mannix had only the vaguestidea of what Miss Lentaigne's beliefs were. He knew nothing at all abouther methods. Priscilla's account of them was not very encouraging. 

"All I want, " he said, "is simply to rest my ankle. "

"Do you think, " said Priscilla, "that you could sit in a boat? That'smine, the green one beside the slip. If you turn your head you'll seeher. But perhaps it hurts you to turn your head. If it does you'd betternot try. The boat will be there all the same even if you don't see her. "

They were passing the quay while she spoke, and Priscilla, who wasa little behind at the moment, pointed to the _Blue Wanderer_. Frankdiscovered one of the disadvantages of an Irish car. The view of thepassengers, even if each one is alone on his side, is confined almostentirely to objects on one side of the road. Only by twisting his neckin a most uncomfortable way can any one see what lies directly behindhim. Frank made the effort and was unimpressed by the appearance of the_Blue Wanderer_. She was exceedingly unlike the shining outriggers inwhich he had sometimes rowed on the upper reaches of the Thames duringearlier summer holidays. 

"I expect, " said Priscilla, "that the salt water will be jolly good foryour ankle, in reality, though Aunt Juliet will say it wont She's boundto say that, of course, on account of her principles. All the sameit may. Peter Walsh was telling me the other day that it's perfectlysplendid for rheumatism. I shouldn't wonder a bit if sprained ankles andrheumatism are much the same sort of thing, only with different names. But of course we can't go this afternoon. Aunt Juliet will demand tohave first shy at you. If she fails we may manage to sneak off to-morrowmorning. But perhaps you don't care for boats, Cousin Frank. "

"I like boats very much. "

He spoke in a slightly patronising tone, as an elderly gentleman mightconfess to a fondness for chocolates in order to please a small nephew. He felt it necessary to make it quite clear to Priscilla that he had notcome to Rosnacree to be her playmate and companion. He had come to fishsalmon in company with her father and such other grown men as might fromtime to time present themselves. Nursery games in stumpy green boatswere not consonant with his dignity. He did not want to hurt Priscilla'sfeelings, but he was anxious that she should understand his position. She seemed unimpressed. 

"That's all right, " she said. "I'll row you. You can sit in the sternand let your legs dangle over in the water. I've often done that whenPeter Walsh has been rowing. It's quite a jolly thing to do. "

It was a thing which Frank Mannix was quite determined not to do. Thesuggestion that he should behave in such a way struck him as "cheeky"in a very high degree. A lower schoolboy in Edmondstone House, if hehad ventured to speak in such a way, would have been beaten with a fivesbat. But Priscilla was a girl and, as Frank understood, girls are notbeaten. He answered her with kindly condescension. 

"Perhaps we'll be able to manage it some day, " he said, "before Ileave. "

They arrived at Rosnacree House and Frank was helped up the steps by thebutler and the coachman. Sir Lucius expressed the greatest regret whenhe heard of his nephew's accident. 

"It's too bad, " he said, "too bad, and the river in such fine conditionafter a fortnight's rain. I was looking forward to seeing you get intoyour first salmon. But cheer up, Frank, I daresay it won't turn out tobe very tedious. We'll have you hobbling along in a week or a fortnight. We've a good while before us yet. I'll get up O'Hara this afternoon, our local practitioner. Not a bad fellow at all, though he drinks abit. Still he'll know what to do with a sprained ankle. Oh! by the wayperhaps——"

Sir Lucius' sentence ended abruptly. His sister entered the room. Shegreeted Frank and inquired whether he had enjoyed his journey. The storyof the accident was told to her. It was evident at once that she tooka keen interest in the sprained ankle. Priscilla, describing the sceneafterwards to Rose, the under housemaid, said that Miss Lentaigne's eyesgleamed and sparkled with joy. Every one in the household had for manyweeks carefully refrained from illness or disability of any kind. IfMiss Lentaigne's eyes really did sparkle they expressed a perfectlynatural delight. There is nothing more trying than to possess a power ofhealing and to find no opportunity for exercising it. 

"Perhaps, " she said, "Frank and I may have a little talk together afterluncheon. "

Sir Lucius was a man of hospitable instincts with high old-fashionedideas of the courtesy due by a host to his guest He did not think itquite fair to subject Frank to a course of Christian Science. But hewas also very much afraid of his sister, whom he recognised as hisintellectual superior. He cleared his throat and made a nervous proteston Frank's behalf. 

"I'm not sure, Juliet, " he said, "I'm really not at all sure that yourtheory quite applies to sprains, especially ankles. "

Miss Lentaigne smiled very gently. Her face expressed a tolerantpatience with the crude ideas entertained by her brother. 

"Of course, " Sir Lucius went on, "there's a great deal in your idea. I've always said so. In the case of any internal disease, nerves youknow, and that kind of thing where there's nothing actually visible, I'msure it works out admirably, quite admirably, but with a sprained ankle!Come now, Juliet, there's the swelling you know. You can't deny theswelling. Hang it all, you can measure the swelling with a tape. Is yourankle much swelled, Frank?"

"A good deal. But it's not worth making a fuss about. It'll be allright. "

Miss Lentaigne smiled again. In her opinion it was all right already. There was not really any swelling, although Frank, in his ignorance, might honestly think there was. She hoped, after luncheon, to convincehim of these pleasant truths. 

Sir Lucius was a coward at heart. He was exceedingly sorry for hisnephew, but he made no further effort to save him from the ministrationsof Miss Lentaigne. Nor did he venture to mention the name of O'Hara, theexcellent, though occasionally inebriate, local practitioner. Frank, as yet unaware of the full beauty of the scientific Christian method ofdealing with illness, was very polite to Miss Lentaigne during luncheon. He talked to her about Parliament and its doings as a subject likely tointerest her, assuming the air of a man who knows the inner secretsof the Cabinet. He did, in fact, know a good deal about the habits andmanners of our legislators, having picked up details of an interestingkind from his father. Miss Lentaigne was greatly delighted with him. Sowas Priscilla, who winked three times at her father when neither Franknor her aunt was looking at her. Sir Lucius was uneasy. He feared thathis nephew was likely to turn out a prig, a kind of boy which he held inparticular abhorrence. 

When luncheon was over he said that he intended to take his rod and goup the river for the afternoon. He invited Priscilla to go with him andcarry his landing net. Frank, preceded by Miss Lentaigne, was conductedby the butler to a hammock chair agreeably placed under the shade of alime tree on the lawn. When Sir Lucius and Priscilla, laden with fishinggear, passed him, he was still making himself politely agreeable to MissLentaigne. Priscilla winked at him. He returned the salutation with astare which was intended to convince her that winking was a particularlyvicious kind of bad form. Miss Lentaigne, as Priscilla noticed, sat withtwo treatises on Christian Science in her hand. 

Priscilla, returning without her father at half past six o'clock, found Frank sitting alone under the lime tree. He was in a singularlychastened mood and inclined to be companionable and friendly, even witha girl of no more than fifteen years old. 

"I say, Priscilla, " he said, "is that old aunt of yours quite mad?"

There was something in the way he expressed himself which delightedPriscilla. He had reverted to the phraseology of an undignifiedschoolboy of the lower fifth. The veneer of grown manhood, eventhe polish of a prefect, had, as it were, peeled off him during theafternoon. 

"Not at all, " said Priscilla. "She's frightfully clever, what's calledintellectual. You know the sort of thing. How's your ankle?"

"She says it isn't sprained. But, blow it all, it's swelled the size ofthe calf of your leg. "

He did not mean Priscilla's leg particularly; but with a slight lift ofan already short skirt she surveyed her own calf curiously. She wantedto know exactly how thick Frank's injured ankle was. 

"Then she didn't cure it?"

"Cure it!" said Frank, "I should think not. She simply kept on tellingme I only thought it was sprained. I never heard such rot talked in allmy life. How do you stand it at all?"

"That's nothing, " said Priscilla. "We're quite glad she's taken toChristian Science; though she did nearly kill poor father. Before thatshe was all for teetotallity—that's not quite the right word, but youknow the thing I mean, drinking nothing but lemonade, either homemade orthe kind that fizzes. I didn't mind that a bit for I like lemonade, bothsorts, but father simply hated it. He told me he'd rather go up to thatnursing home in Dublin every time he feels ill than live through anothersix months on lemonade. Before that she was frightfully keen on a thingcalled uric acid. Do you know what that is, Cousin Frank?" "No, " hesaid, "I don't. How did it take her?" "She wouldn't give us anything toeat, " said Priscilla, "except queer sort of mashes which she said weremade of nuts and biscuits and things. I got quite thin and as weak asa cat. " "I wonder you stuck it out. " "Oh, it didn't last long. None ofthem do, you know. That's our great consolation; though we rather hopethe Christian Science will on account of its doing us no particularharm. She doesn't mind what we eat or drink, which is a great comfort. She can't you know, according to her principles, because when there'sno such thing as being sick it can't matter how much whipped cream oranything of that sort you eat just before you go to bed at night. Shedidn't like it a bit when I got up on Christmas night and foraged outnearly a quarter of a cold plum pudding. She was just going up to bedand she caught me. She wanted awfully to stop me eating it, but shecouldn't without giving the whole show away, so I ate it before her veryeyes. That's the beauty of Christian Science. " "But I say, Priscilla, weren't you sick?" "Not a bit When Father heard about it next morninghe said he thought there must be something in Aunt Juliet's theory afterall. He has stuck to that ever since, though he says it doesn't apply toinfluenza. She had a great idea about fresh air one time, and got up acarpenter to take the window frames, windows and all, clean out ofmy room. I used to have to borrow hairpins from Rose—she's the underhousemaid and a great friend of mine—so as to fasten the bedclothes onto the mattress. Otherwise they blew away during the night, while Iwas asleep. That was one of the worst times we ever had, though I don'tthink Father minded it so much. He used to go out and smoke in theharness room. But I hated it worse than anything except the uric acid. You never knew where your clothes would be in the morning if it was theleast stormy, and my hair used to blow into soup and tea and things, which made it frightfully sticky. "

"Do you think, " said Frank, "that she'll leave me alone now? Or will shewant to have another go at me to-morrow?"

"Sure to, " said Priscilla, "unless you give in that your ankle is quitewell. "

"But I can't walk. "

"That won't matter in the least. She'll say you can. Aunt Julietis tremendously determined. Poor Rose—I told you she is the underhousemaid, didn't I? She is any way. Poor Rose once got a swelled faceon account of a tooth that she wouldn't have out. Aunt Juliet kept ather, reading little bits out of books and kind of praying, in passagesand pantries and places, wherever she met Rose. That went on for morethan a week. Then Rose got Dr. O'Hara to haul the tooth and the swellingwent down. Aunt Juliet said it was Christian Science cured her. And ofcourse it may have been. You never can tell really what it is that curespeople. "

"I wonder, " said Frank, "if I could manage to get down to the boatto-morrow. You said something about a boat, didn't you, Priscilla? Is itfar?"

"I'll work that all right for you. As it just happens, luckily enoughthere's an old bath-chair in a corner of the hay-loft. I came acrossit last hols when I was looking for a bicycle pump I lost. I was ratherdisappointed at the time, not thinking that the old chair would be anyuse, whereas I wanted the pump. Now it turns out to be exactly what wewant, which shows that well directed labour is never really wasted. Thefront-wheel is a bit groggy, but I daresay it'll hold all right as faras the quay. I'll go round after dinner to-night and fish it out I canwheel you quite easily, for it's all down hill. "

Frank had not intended when he left England to go about the country in abath-chair with a groggy front-wheel. For a moment he hesitated. A wildfear struck him of what the Uppingham captain—that dangerous bat whoseinnings his brilliant catch had cut short—might say and think if hesaw the vehicle. But the Uppingham captain was not likely to be inRosnacree. Christian Science was a more threatening danger. He picturedto himself the stare of amazement on the countenance of Mr. Dupré andthe sniggering face of young Latimer who collected beetles and hatedwashing. But Mr. Dupré, Latimer and the members of the house eleven, were, no doubt, far off. 

Miss Lentaigne was very near at hand. He accepted Priscilla's offer. 

"Right, " she said. "I'll settle the chair, if I have to tie it togetherwith my hair ribbon. It's nice to think of that old chair coming inuseful in the end. It must have been in the loft for ages and ages. Sylvia Courtney told me that her mother says anything will come inuseful if you only keep it long enough; but I don't know whether that'strue. I don't think it can be, quite, for I tried it once with a usedup exercise-book and it didn't seem to be the slightest good even afteryears and years, though it got most frightfully tattered. Still itmay be true. You never can tell about things of that sort, and SylviaCourtney says her mother is extremely wise; so she may be quite right. 

"Christian Science, " said Frank bitterly, "wouldn't be of any use if youkept it for centuries. What's the use of saying a thing isn't swelledwhen it is?"

CHAPTER V

A night's rest restored self-respect to Frank Mannix. He felt when hisclothes were brought to him in the morning by a respectful footman thathe had to some extent sacrificed his dignity in his confidentialtalk with Priscilla the day before. He had committed himself to thebath-chair and the boating expedition, and he had too high a sense ofpersonal honour to back out of an engagement definitely made. But hedetermined to keep Priscilla at a distance. He would go with her, would to some extent join in her childish sports; but it must be on thedistinct understanding that he did so as a grown man who condescends toplay games with an amusing child. With this idea in his mind he dressedhimself very carefully in a suit a cricket flannels. The garments werein themselves suitable for boating as he understood the sport. They werealso likely, he thought, to impress Priscilla. The white flannel coat, bound round its edges with crimson silk, was at Hailey-bury part of auniform set apart for the sole use of members of the first eleven whohad actually got their colours. The crimson sash round his waist wasa badge of the same high office. Small boys, who played cricket on thehouse pitches in the Little Side ground, bowed in awed humility before amember of the first eleven when he appeared before them in all his gloryand felt elated if they were allowed to walk across the quadranglewith any one who wore the sacred vestments. Frank had little doubt thatPriscilla, who was to be his companion for the day would realise thegreatness of her privileges. 

But Priscilla seemed curiously unimpressed. She met him in the breakfastroom before either Sir Lucius or Miss Lentaigne came down. 

"Great Scot! Cousin Frank, " she said, "you are a howler!"

Frank drew himself up; but realised even as he did so that he must makesome reply to Priscilla. It was impossible to pretend not to know thatshe was speaking about his clothes. 

"An old suit of flannels, " he said with elaborate carelessness. "I hopeyou didn't expect me to be grand. "

"I never saw anything grander in my life, " said Priscilla. "I thoughtSylvia Courtney's summer Sunday hat was swankey; but it's simply not init with your coat I suppose that belt thing is real silk. "

"School colours, " said Frank. 

"Oh! Ours are blue and dark yellow. I have them on a hockey blouse. "

The bath-chair turned out to be rather more dilapidated and disreputablethan Frank expected. The front-wheel—bound to its place with string, not hair ribbon—seemed very likely indeed to come off. He eyed itdoubtfully. 

"If you're afraid, " said Priscilla, "that it will dirty your beautifulwhite trousers, I'll give it a rub-over with my pocket-handcher. But Idon't think that'll be much use really. You'll be filthy from head tofoot in any case before we get home. "

Frank, limping with as much dignity as possible, sat down in the chair. He got out his cigarette case and asked Priscilla not to start until hehad lit his cigarette. 

"You don't object to the smell, I hope, " he said politely. 

"Not a bit I'd smoke myself only I don't like it. I tried once—SylviaCourtney was shocked. That's rather the sort she is—but it seemed to meto have a nasty taste. You're sure you like it, Cousin Frank? Don't doit simply because you think you ought. "

Priscilla pushed the bath-chair from behind. Frank guided the shakyfront wheel by means of a long handle. They went down the avenue at anextremely rapid pace, Priscilla moving in a kind of jaunty canter. Whenthey reached the gate Frank's cigarette had gone out. There was a pausewhile he lit it again. Then he asked Priscilla to go a little lessquickly. He wished his approach to the public street of the village tobe as little grotesque as possible. 

"By the way, " said Priscilla, "have you any money?"

"Certainly. How much do you want?"

"That depends. I have eightpence, which ought to be enough unless youwant something very expensive to drink. "

"Why should we take anything to drink? We said at breakfast that we'd beback for luncheon. "

"We won't, " said Priscilla, "nor we won't for tea. Lucky if we are fordinner. "

"But Miss Lentaigne said she'd expect us. If we stay out she won't likeit. "

"Let her dis. , " said Priscilla. "Now what do you want to drink? I alwayshave lemon flavoured soda. It's less sticky than regular lemonade. Stoneginger beer is better than either, of course, but Brannigan doesn't keepit, I can't imagine why not. "

"If we're going to stay out, " said Frank, "I'll have beer, lager forchoice. "

"Right. Lager is twopence. Lemon flavoured soda twopence if we bringback the bottles. That will leave fourpence for biscuits which ought tobe enough. "

Fourpence worth of biscuits seemed to Frank an insufficient supply offood for two people who are to be on the sea for the whole day. Hesaw, besides, an opportunity of asserting once for all his position ofsuperiority. He made up his mind to tip Priscilla. He fumbled in hispocket for a coin. 

"You get quite a lot of biscuits for fourpence, " said Priscilla, "if yougo in for plain arrowroot. Of course they're rather dull, but then youget very few of the better sorts. Take macaroons, for instance. They'renearly a halfpenny each in Brannigan's. Sheer robbery, I call it. "

Frank, determined to do the thing handsomely if he did it at all, passedhalf a crown to Priscilla over the back of the bath chair. 

"My dear child, " he said, "buy macaroons by all means if you like them. Buy as many as you want. "

Priscilla received the half-crown without any appearance of shame. 

"If you're prepared to lash out money in that way, " she said, "we may aswell have a tongue. Brannigan has small ones at one and sixpence. Brawnof course is cheaper, but then if you have brawn you want a tin-opener. The tongues are in glass jars which you can break with a stone or arowlock. The lids are supposed to come off quite easily if you jab aknife through them, but they don't really. All that happens is a sort offizz of air and the lid sticks on as tight as ever. Things hardly everdo what they're supposed to according to science, which makes me thinkthat science is rather rot, though, of course, it may have its uses onlythat I don't know them. "

Priscilla wheeled the bath-chair for some distance along the roadwithout speaking. Then she asked another question. 

"Which would you rather have, the tongue or a tin of Californianpeaches. They're one and sixpence too, so we can't have both, forit would be a pity to miss the chance of one and fourpence worth ofmacaroons. I don't remember ever having so many at one time before. Though of course they're not really so many when there are two of us toeat them. "

"I'll give you another one and sixpence, " said Frank, "and then you'llbe able to get the peaches too if you want them. I rather bar thosetinned fruits myself. They have no flavour. "

On Saturday evenings, when prefects and all self-respecting membersof the upper and middle schools have tea in their studies, Frank wasaccustomed to eat tinned lobsters and sometimes tinned salmon, but heknew that superiority to such forms of food was one of the marks of agrown man. He hoped, by speaking slightingly of the Californian peaches, to impress Priscilla with the idea that he was a sort of uncle of hers. The luncheon was involving him in considerable expense, but he did notgrudge the money if it produced the effect he desired. Unfortunately itdid not. 

"Well have a gorgeous bust, " said Priscilla. "I shouldn't wonder ifBrannigan got some kind of fit when we spend all that in his shop atonce. He's not accustomed to millionaires. "

Frank, not being able to find a shilling and a sixpence in his pocket, handed over another half crown. Priscilla promised to give him hischange. She stopped the bath-chair at the door of Brannigan's shop. Themen of leisure who sat on the window sills stared curiously at Frank. Young gentlemen dressed in white flannels and wheeled in bath-chairs arerare in Rosnacree. Frank felt embarrassed and annoyed. 

"Excuse me half a mo. , " said Priscilla. "I'll just speak a word to PeterWalsh and then do the shopping. Peter, you're to get the sails on the_Tortoise_ at once. "

She spoke with such decisive authority that Peter Walsh felt quitecertain that she had no right to give the order. 

"Is it the _Tortoise_, Miss?"

"Didn't I say the _Tortoise_. Go and get the sails at once. "

"I don't know, " said Peter, "whether would your da be pleased with me ifI sent you out in the _Tortoise_. Sure you know——"

"Mr. Mannix and I, " said Priscilla, "are going out for the day in the_Tortoise_. "

Peter Walsh took a long look at Frank. He was apparently far fromsatisfied with the result of his inspection. 

"Of course if the young gentleman in the perambulator is going with you, Miss—the _Tortoise_ is a giddy kind of a boat, your honour, and withoutyou'd be used to her or the like of her—but sure if you're satisfied—butwhat it is, the master gave orders that Miss Priscilla wasn't to go outin the _Tortoise_ without either himself or me would be along with her. "

Frank was painfully aware that he was not used to the _Tortoise_ or toany boat the least like her. He had never in his life been to sea in asailing boat for the management of which he was in any way responsible. He was, in fact, entirely ignorant of the art of boat sailing. But themen who sat on the window sills of Brannigan's shop, battered sea dogsevery one of them, had their eyes fixed on him. It would be deeplyhumiliating to have to own up before them that he knew nothing aboutboats. Sir Lucius's order applied, very properly, to Priscilla who wasa child. Peter Walsh looked as if he thought that Frank also ought to betreated as a child. This was intolerable. The day seemed very calm. Itwas difficult to think that there could be any real risk in going outin the __Tortoise__. Priscilla nudged him sharply with her elbow. Frankyielded to temptation. 

"Miss Lentaigne, " he said, "will be quite safe with me. "

He spoke with lordly self-confidence, calculated, he thought, to impressthe impudent loafers on the window sills and to reduce Peter Walshto prompt submission. Having spoken he felt unreasonably angry withPriscilla who was grinning. 

Peter Walsh ambled down to the quay. He climbed over the dredger, whichwas lying alongside, and dropped from her into a small water-loggedpunt. In this he ferried himself out to the _Tortoise_. Priscillabounded into Brannigan's shop. The sea dogs on the window sillseyed Frank and shook their heads. It was painfully evident that hisself-confident tone had not imposed on them. 

"There's not much wind any way, " said one of them, "and what there iswill be dropping with the ebb. "

"It'll work round to the west with the flood, " said another. "With theweather we're having now it'll follow the sun. "

Priscilla came out of the shop laden with parcels which she placed oneby one on Frank's lap. 

"Beer and lemonade, " she said. "The beast was out of lemon flavouredsoda, so I had to get lemonade instead, but your lager's all right. Youdon't mind drinking out of the bottle, do you, Cousin Frank? You canhave the bailing tin of course, if you like, but it's rather salty. Macaroons and cocoanut creams. They turned out to be the same price, so I thought I might as well get a mixture. The cocoanut creams arelighter, so one gets more of them for the money. Tongue. I told himnot to put paper on the tongue. I always think brown paper is rather anuisance in a boat. It gets so soppy when it's the least wet. There'sno use having more of it than we can help. Peaches. He hadn't any of thesmall one and sixpenny tins, so I had to spend your other shilling tomake up the half-crown for the big one. I hope you don't mind. We shallbe able to finish it all right I expect. Oh, bother! I forgot that thepeaches require a tin-opener. Have you a knife? If you have we may beable to manage by hammering it along through the lid of the tin with arowlock. "

Frank had a knife, but he set some value on it He did not want to haveit reduced to the condition of a coarse toothed saw by being hammeredthrough a tin with a rowlock. He hesitated. 

"All right, " said Priscilla, "if you'd rather not have it used I'll goand try to stick Brannigan for the loan of a tin-opener. He may not carefor lending it, because things like tin-openers generally drop overboardand then of course he wouldn't get it back. But he'll hardly be able torefuse it I offer to deposit the safety pin in my tie as a hostage. Itlooks exactly as if it is gold, and, if it was, would be worth far morethan any tin-opener. "

She went into the shop again. It was nearly ten minutes before shecame out. Frank was seriously annoyed by a number of small children whocrowded round the bath-chair and made remarks about his appearance. Hetried to buy them off with macaroons, but the plan failed, as a similarone did in the case of the Anglo-Saxon king and the Danes. The children, like the Norse pirates, returned almost immediately in increasednumbers. Then Priscilla appeared. 

"I thought I should have had a frightful rag with Brannigan over thetin-opener, " she said, "but he was quite nice about it. He said he'dlend it with pleasure and didn't care whether I left him the safety pinor not. The only trouble was that he couldn't find one. He said that hehad a gross of them somewhere, but he didn't know where they'd been put. In the end it was Mrs. Brannigan who found them in an old biscuit tinunder some oilskins. That's what delayed me. "

Peter Walsh was hoisting a sail, a gunter lug, on the _Tortoise_. He paused in his work now and then to cast a glance ashore at Frank. Priscilla wheeled the bath-chair down to the slip and hailed Peter. 

"Hurry up now, " she said, "and get the foresail on her. Don't keep ushere all day. "

Peter pulled on the foresail halyards with some appearance of vigour. He slipped the mooring rope and ran the _Tortoise_ alongside the slip, towing the water logged punt behind her. 

"Joseph Antony Kinsella, " said Peter, "was in this morning on the floodtide and he was telling me he came across that young fellow again nearIllaunglos. "

"Was he talking to him?" said Priscilla. 

"He was not beyond passing the time of day or the like of that forJoseph Antony had a load of gravel and he couldn't be wasting histime. But the young fellow was in Flanagan's old boat and it was JosephAntony's opinion that he was trying to learn himself how to row her. "

"He'd need to. But if that's all that passed between them I don't seethat we're much further on towards knowing what that man is doing here. "

"Joseph Antony did say, " said Peter, "that the young gentleman was assimple and innocent as a child and one that wouldn't be likely to bedoing any harm. "

"You can't be sure of that. "

"You cannot, Miss. There's a terrible lot of fellows going round thecountry these times, sent out by the government that would be gladenough to be interfering with the people and maybe taking the land awayfrom them. You'd never know who might be at such work and who mightn't, but Joseph Antony did say that the fellow in Flanagan's old boat hadn'tthe look of it. He's too innocent like. "

"Hop you out now, Peter, " said Priscilla, "and help Mr. Mannix down intothe boat. He has a sprained ankle and can't walk by himself. Be carefulof him!"

The task of getting Frank into the _Tortoise_ was not an easy onefor the slip was nearly as slimy as when Priscilla fell on it theday before. Peter, with his arm round Frank's waist, proceeded verycautiously. 

"Settle him down on the starboard side of the centre-board case, " saidPriscilla. "We'll carry the boom to port on the run out. "

"You will, " said Peter, "for the wind's in the east, but you'll have tojibe her at the stone perch if you're going down the channel. "

"I'm not going down the channel. I mean to stand across to Rossmore andthen go into the bay beyond. " Priscilla stepped into the boat and tookthe tiller. 

"Did I hear you say, Miss, that you're thinking of going on toInishbawn?"

"You did not hear me say anything about Inishbawn; but I may go thereall the same if I've time. I want to see the Kinsellas' new baby. "

"If you'll take my advice, Miss, " said Peter, "you'll not go next nornigh Inishbawn. "

"And why not?"

"Joseph Antony Kinsella was telling me this morning that it's alive withrats, such rats nobody ever seen. They have the island pretty near eataway. "

"Talk sense, " said Priscilla. 

"They came out on the tide swimming, " said Peter, "like as it might bea shoal of mackerel, and you think there'd be no end to them climbing upover the stones and eating all before them. "

"Shove her bow round, Peter; and keep that rat story of yours for theyoung man in Flanagan's boat. Hell believe it if he's as innocent as yousay. "

Peter shoved out the _Tortoise_. The wind caught the sail. Priscillapaid out the main sheet and let the boom swing forward. Peter shouted alast warning from the slip. 

"Joseph Antony was telling me, " he said, "that they're terrible fierce, worser than any rats ever he seen. "

The _Tortoise_ slipped along and was soon beyond the reach of his voice. She passed the heavy hookers at the quay side, left buoy after buoybehind her, bobbed cheerfully through a tide race at the stone perch, and stood out, the wind right behind her, for Rossmore Head. 

CHAPTER VI

Rosnacree Bay is a broad stretch of water, but those who go down toit in boats are singularly at the mercy of the tides. Save for certainchannels the water everywhere is shallow. At some remote period, itseems, the ocean broke in and submerged a tract of low land between themountains which bound the north and south shores of the bay. What oncewere round hillocks rising from boggy pasture land are now islands, sloping eastwards to the water as they once sloped eastwards to greenfields, but torn and chafed into steep bluffs where the sea beats ontheir western sides. 

But the ocean's conquest is incomplete. Its empire is disputed still. The very violence of the assault has checked its advance by piling upa mighty breakwater of boulders right across the mouth of the bay. Gathered upon sullenly firm based rocks these great round stones rolland roar and crash when the full force of the Atlantic billows comesfoaming against them. They save the islands east of them. There are gapsin the breakwater, and the sea rushes through these, but it is tamed ofits ferocity, humiliated from the grandeur of its strength so that itwanders, puzzled, bewildered, through the waterways among the islands. The land asserts itself. Things which belong to the land approach withcontemptuous familiarity the very verges of their mighty foe. On theedges of the water the islanders build their hayricks, redolent of rurallife, and set up their stacks of brown turf. Geese and ducks, whosenatural play places are muddy pools and inland streams, swim through thesalt water in the sheltered bays below the cottages. Pigs, driven downto the shore to root among the rotting seaweed, splash knee deep inthe sea. At the time of high spring tides, in March and at the end ofSeptember, the water flows in oily curves or splashes muddily againstthe very thresholds of the cottages. It penetrates the brine-soaked soiland wells turn brackish. It wanders far inland through winding straits. The wayfarer, stepping across what seems to be a ditch at the end ofa field far from the sea wonders to hear brown wrack crackle under hisfeet. 

A few hours later the land asserts itself again. The sea draws backsullenly at first. Soon its retreat becomes a very flight. The narrowways between the islands, calm an hour before, are like swift rivers. Through the cleft gaps in the breakwater of boulders the sea goes backfrom its adventurous wanderings to the ocean outside; but not as inother places, where a deep felt homing impulse draws tired water to thevoluminous mother bosom of the Atlantic. Here, even on the calmest days, steep wavelets curl and break over each other, like fugitives drivento desperate flight by some maddening fear, prepared, so great is theterror behind them, to trample on their own comrades in the race forsecurity. One after another all over the bay the wrack-clad backs ofrocks appear. Long swathes of brown slimy weed, tugging at submergedroots, lie writhing on the surface of the ebbing streams. The islandsgrow larger. Confused heaps of round boulders appear under their westernbluffs. Cormorants perch in flocks on shining stones, stretching outtheir narrow wings, peering through tiny black eyes at the withdrawalof the sea. On the eastern shores of every island, stretches ofpebble-strewn mud widen rapidly. The boats below the cottages liedejected, mutely re-reproachful of the anchors which have held them backfrom following the departed waters. Soft green banks appear here andthere, broaden, join one another, until whole stretches of the bay, miles of it, show this pale sea grass instead of water. Only the fewdeep channels remain, with their foolish stranded buoys and their highuseless perches, to witness to the fact that at evening time the seawill claim its own again. 

Very wonderful are the changes of the bay. The southwest wind sweepsrain over it in slanting drifts. The islands show dimly grey amid awelter of grey water, breaking angrily in short, petulant seas, whichbuffet boats confusedly and put the helmsmen's skill to a high test. Orchilly, curling mists wrap islands and promontories from sight. Terns, circling somewhere up above, cry to each other shrilly. Gulls flitsuddenly into sight and out of sight again, uttering sorrowful wails. Now and again cormorants, low flying with a rushing noise, break theoily surface of the water with every swift downward flapping of theirwings. Then the boatman needs something more than skill, must rely uponan inborn instinct for locality if he is not to find himself embayed andaground in some strange land-locked corner far from his home. Or, inthe splendid summer days the islands seem poised a foot or two above theglistening water. The white terns hover and plunge, re-emerge amid thejoyful callings of their fellows, each with some tiny silver fish tofeed to the yellow chicks which gape to them from the short, coarsegrass among the rocks. Curlews call to each other from island to island, and high answering calls come from the sea-saturated fields of themainland. Small broad billed guillemots and puffins float at ease uponthe water, swelling with obvious pride as they display the flocks oflittle ones which swim with infantile solemnity around them. Gullscluster and splash noisily over shoals of fry. Then boats drift lazilyalong; piled high perhaps with brown turf, store of winter fuel for somehome; or bearing stolid cattle from the cropped pasturage of one islandto the untouched grass of another; or, paddled, noisily, carry a crowdof boys and girls home from school, mightily enriched no doubt withknowledge only to be obtained when the water is calm enough forchildren's sea-going in the summer days. 

On such days all the drama of the flowing and ebbing tides may bewatched with ever increasing wonder and delight The sea is caught by theislands and goes whirling down the channels. It is turned backwards bysome stray spit of land and set beating against some other current ofthe same tide which has taken a different way and reached the same pointin strong opposite flow. The little glistening wavelets leap to meeteach other, like lovers reunited whose mouths are hungry for thepressure of glad greetings. There are places where the water eddiesround and round, where smooth eager lips, rising from the whirlpools, seem as if they reached up for something to kiss, and are sucked downagain into the depths with voiceless passion. Foot by foot the watergains on the rocks beside the channels, on the fringes of the boulders, on the stony shores, and covers the stretches of mud:

The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pale ablution roundearth's human shore. But they do not escape without defilement On thesurface of the tide, when it ebbs from the mudbanks, there gathers aniridescent slime. Tiny particles of floating sand catch and reflect thelight Fragments of dead weed, black or brown, are borne along. The tidehas stolen across the beaches below the cottages and carried away thegarbage cast there. It has passed where a little while before the cattlestrayed, and passing has been stained. Here is no breaking of cleargreen waves against black defiant rocks, no tumultuous pitched battlebetween the ocean, inspired by the supreme passion of the tide, and thesullen resistance of unyielding cliffs. Instead a dubious sea wanders inand out amid scenes which the experience of many centuries has not madefamiliar to it. 

It was into this shining bay that the _Tortoise_ sped, her white sailsbellied with the pleasant wind. Priscilla exulted, with flushed cheeksand sparkling eyes. 

Frank, yielding a little to the fascination of the sailing, was yet illat ease. His conscience troubled him, the acutely sensitive conscienceof a prefect who had been responsible for the tone of EdmondstoneHouse. He feared that he had done wrong in going with Priscilla in the_Tortoise_, wrong of a particularly flagrant kind. He thought of himselfas a man of responsibility placed in the position of trust. Had he beenguilty of a breach of trust? It seemed remotely unlikely, so cheerfuland sparkling was the sea, that any accident could possibly occur. Butwith what feelings could he face a broken and reproachful father shouldanything happen and Priscilla be drowned? The blame would justly rest onhim. The fault would be entirely his. 

"Priscilla, " he said, "I wish we hadn't come. I ought not to have comewhen Uncle Lucius has forbidden you to use this boat. "

"Oh, " said Priscilla, "don't you fret Father doesn't really mind a bit. He only pretends to, has to, you know, on account of Aunt Juliet Heknows jolly well that I can sail the _Tortoise_, any one could. "

Frank could not; but Priscilla's tone comforted him a little. Yet hisconscience was ill at ease. 

"But Miss Lentaigne, " he said, "your Aunt Juliet——"

"She'll object, all right, of course, " said Priscilla. "If she knewwhere we are this minute she'd be dead, cock sure that we'd be drowned. She'd probably spend the afternoon planning out nice warm ways ofwrapping up our clammy corpses when she got them back. But she doesn'tknow, so that's all right. "

"She will know, this evening. We shall have to tell her. "

On one point Frank was entirely decided. Priscilla should neitherlure nor drive him into any kind of deceit about the expedition. ButPriscilla had no such intention. 

"We'll tell her right enough, " she said, "when we get home. She'll bepretty mad, of course, inwardly; but she can't _say_ much on account ofher principles. "

"I don't see what her principles have to do with it. "

"Don't you? Then you must be rather stupid. Can't you see that if youhaven't really got a sprained ankle, but only believe you have, andwouldn't have it if you believed you hadn't, then we shouldn't really bedrowned, supposing we were drowned, I mean, which, of course, we're notgoing to be—if we believed we weren't drowned? And Aunt Juliet, with herprinciples, would be bound to believe we weren't, even if we were. We've only got to put it to her that way and she won't have a ghost of agrievance left. It's the simplest form of Christian Science. But inany case, whatever silliness Aunt Juliet may indulge in, we were simplybound to have the _Tortoise_ today. It's a matter of duty. I don't seehow you can get around that, Cousin Frank, no matter how you argue. "

Frank did not want to get behind his duty. He had been brought up with avery high regard for the word, If it had been clearly shown him that itwas his duty to take an ocean voyage in the _Tortoise_, with Priscillaas leader of the expedition, he would have bidden a long farewell tohis friends and gone forth cheerfully. But he did not see that thisparticular sail, which seemed, indeed, little better than a humiliating, though agreeable, act of truancy, could possibly be sheltered under thename of duty. Priscilla enlightened him. 

"I daresay you don't know, " she said, "that there is a German spy at thepresent moment making a chart of this bay. We are hunting him. "

There is something intensely stimulating to every healthy mind in theidea of hunting a spy. No prefect in the world, no master even, not Mr. Dupré himself, not the remote divine head-master in the calm Elysium ofhis garden, could have escaped a thrill at the mention of such a sport. Frank was conscious of a sudden relapse from the serenity of the grownman's common sense. For an instant he became a normal schoolboy. 

"Rot!" he said. "What spy?"

"It's not rot, " said Priscilla. "You've read 'The Riddle of the Sands, 'I suppose. You must have. Well, that's exactly what he's at, mappingout mud-banks and things so as to be able to run a masked flotilla oftorpedo boats in and out when the time comes. There was one of the samelot caught the other day sketching a fortification in Lough Swilly. Father read it to me out of a newspaper. "

Frank had seen a report of that capture. German spies have of late, been appearing with disquieting frequency. They are met with in the mostunlikely places. Frank was a little shaken in his scepticism. 

"What makes you say there's a German spy?" he said

"I saw him. So did Peter Walsh. So did Joseph Antony Kinsella. You heardPeter Walsh talking about him this morning. I saw him yesterday. Iwas bathing at the time and he ran his boat on a rock off the point ofDelginish. If it hadn't been for me he'd have been there still, onlydrowned, of course, for his boat floated away from him. I wish now thatI'd left him there, but, of course, I didn't know at the time that hewas a spy. That idea only came to me afterwards. I say, Cousin Frank, wouldn't it be absolutely spiffing if it turned out that he really was?"

It was impossible for any one to deny that such a thing would bespiffing in the very highest possible degree. 

"If he is, " said Priscilla, "and I don't see any reason why heshouldn't—anyhow it's jolly good sport to pretend—and if he is, it'sour plain duty to hunt him down at any risk. Sylvia Courtney says thatWordsworth's 'Ode to Duty' is quite the most thrillingly impressive poemin the whole 'Golden Treasury' so you won't want to go back on it. "

Frank's prize had been won for Greek Iambics, not for Englishliterature. He was not in a position to discuss the value ofWordsworth's "Ode to Duty" as a guide to conduct in ordinary life. 

"My plan, " said Priscilla, "is to begin at the south of the bay and workacross to the north, investigating every island until we light on theone where he is. That's the reason I had to take the _Tortoise_. The_Blue Wanderer_ wouldn't have done it for us. She won't go to windward. But the _Tortoise_ is a racing boat. Father bought her cheap atKingstown because she never won any races, which is the reason why hecalled her the _Tortoise_. But she can sail faster than Flanagan's oldboat, anyhow. And that's the one which the spy has got. "

Frank was not inclined to discuss the appropriateness of the_Tortoise's_ new name. He was just beginning to recover from thefeeling of bewildered annoyance induced by the sudden introduction ofWordsworth's poem into the conversation. 

"But what makes you say he's a spy?" he said. "I know there are spies, and I saw about the capture of that one in Lough Swilly. But why shouldthis man be one?"

"I don't say he is, " said Priscilla. "All I say is that until we'vehunted him down we can't possibly be sure that he isn't. You never canbe sure about anything until you've actually tried it. And, anyway, what else can he be? You can't deny that there's some mystery about him. Remember what Peter Walsh said about his looking as innocent as a child. That's the way spies always look. Besides, I don't think his clothesreally belonged to him. I could see that at a glance. He had a pair ofwhite flannel trousers with creases down the fronts of the legs, quiteas swagger as yours, if not swaggerer, and a white sweater. He didn'tlook a bit comfortable in them, not as if they were the kind of clotheshe was accustomed to wear. That's Rossmore head on the left there, Cousin Frank. He's not there. I didn't expect he would be, and he isn't. I don't expect he's in that bay to the southwest of it either. But we'lljust run in a bit and make sure. "

The breeze had freshened a little, and the _Tortoise_ made good waythrough the calm water. Frank began to feel some little trust inPriscilla. She handled the boat with an air of confidence which wasreassuring. His conscience was troubling him less than it did. Thereis nothing in the world equal to sailing as a means of quieting anxiousconsciences. A man may be suffering mental agonies from the recollectionof some cruel and cold-blooded murder which he happens to havecommitted. On land his life would be a burden to him. But let him godown to the sea in a small white sailed ship, and in forty-eight hoursor less, he will have ceased to feel any remorse for his victim. Thismay be the reason why all Protestant nations are maritime powers. Havingdenied themselves the orthodox anaesthetic of the confessional, thesepeoples have been obliged to take to the sea as a means of preventingtheir consciences from harrying them. Driven forth across the waves bythe clamorous importunity of the voice within, they, of very necessity, acquire a certain skill in the management of boats, a skill which sooneror later leads to the burdensome possession of a navy and so to maritimeimportance. It is interesting to see how this curious law works out inquite modern times. 

The Italian navy is now considerable, but it has only become so sincethe people were driven to the sea as a consequence of the anti-clericalfeeling which led them to desert the confessional. It is quite possiblethat the Portuguese, having in their new Republic developed a strongantipathy to sacraments and so laid up for themselves a future ofspiritual disquiet, may see their ancient maritime glories revived, andin seeking relief beyond the mouth of the Tagus from the gnawings oftheir consciences, may give birth to some reincarnation of Vasco da Gamaor Prince Henry, the Navigator. 

"I don't think, " said Priscilla, looking round her searchingly, "thathe's anywhere in this bay. How's your ankle?"

"It's quite comfortable, " said Frank. 

"I asked, " said Priscilla, "because in order to get out of the bay Ishall have to jibe, and that means that you've got to hop across thecentreboard case. "

Frank had not the least idea of what happens when a small boat jibes. Heintended to ask for information, but was not given any opportunity. The boom, which had hitherto behaved with dignity and self-possession, suddenly swung across the boat with such swiftness that he had no timeto duck his head to avoid it. His straw hat, struck on the brim, wasswept over the side of the boat. He found himself thrown down againstthe gunwale, while a quantity of cold water poured over his legs. Hegrasped the centreboard case, the nearest stable thing at hand, andpulled himself up again into the middle of the boat. Priscilla, a gooddeal tangled in a writhing rope, was struggling past the tiller to thewindward side. 

"What's happened?" asked Frank. 

"Jibed all standing, " said Priscilla. "I didn't mean to, of course. Imust have been sailing her by the lee. But it's all right. We didn'tship more than a bucketful. I say, I'm rather sorry about your hat; butthat's a rotten kind of hat in a boat anyway. Would you mind getting upto windward? I've got to luff her a bit and she'll heel over. "

"Is it gone?"

"What? Oh, the hat. Yes, quite. We couldn't get it without jibingagain. "

"Don't let us do that, " said Frank, "if we can help it. 

"I won't. But do get up to windward. That is to say if your ankle's nottoo bad. I must luff a bit or we'll go ashore. The water's getting veryshallow. "

Frank scrambled over the centreboard case and bumped down on the floorboards on the windward side of the boat Priscilla pushed over the tillerand began to haul vigorously on the main sheet The _Tortoise_ sweptround, heeled over and rushed through the water on a broad reach. Thewind, so it seemed to Frank, began to blow much harder than before. He clung to the weather stay and watched the bubbling water tear pastwithin an inch or two of the lower gunwale. A sudden spasm of extremenervousness seized him. He looked anxiously at Priscilla. She seemed tobe entirely calm and self-possessed. His self-respect reasserteditself. He remembered that she was merely a girl. He set his teeth anddetermined to show no sign of fear. Gradually the exhilaration ofthe motion, the coolness of the breeze through his hair, the dancing, impulsive rush of the boat, and the shining white of the sail in frontof him conquered his qualms. He began to enjoy himself as he had neverin his life enjoyed himself before. 

"I say, Priscilla, " he said, "this is fine. "

"Topping, " said Priscilla. 

The feel of the cricket ball caught clean in the centre of the bat, sentin one clear flight to square leg across the boundary line, is glorious. Frank knew the exultation of such moments. The dash across the goalline from a swiftly taken pass is a thing to live for. Frank, as a fastthree-quarter back, knew that too. But this tearing of a heeling boatthrough bubbling green water became to him, when he got over the firstterror of it, a delirious joy. 

"That's Inishminna ahead of us to windward, " said Priscilla. "Flanaganlives there, who hired him the old boat. He might be there, but heisn't. I can see the whole slope of the island. We'll slip under the leeof the end of it past Illaunglos. It's a likely enough island. "

Frank suddenly remembered that they were in pursuit of a German spy. Theremainder of his scepticism forsook him. Amid such surroundings, withthe singing of the wind and the gurgling swish of the flying boat in hisears, any adventure seemed possible. The prosaic limitations of ordinarylife dropped off from him. Only it seemed a pity to find the spy, sincefinding him would stop their sailing. 

"I say, Priscilla, " he said. "Don't let us bother about the old spy. Let's go on sailing. "

"Just hunker down a bit, " said Priscilla, "and look under the foot ofthe sail. I can't see to leeward. Is there anything like a tent on thatisland?"

Frank curled himself into a cramped and difficult attitude. He peeredunder the sail and made his report. 

"There's nothing there, " he said, "except three bullocks. But I can onlysee two sides of the island. "

"We'll open the north side in a minute, " said Priscilla. "He can't be atthe west end of it, for it is all bluff and boulders. If he isn't on thenorth shore he's not there at all. 

Frank twisted himself again into the bottom of the boat, and peepedunder the sail. The north shore of Illaunglos held no tent. 

"Good, " said Priscilla. "Well stand on The next island is Inishark. He may be there. There's a well on it, and he'd naturally want to campsomewhere within reach of water. "

Frank, still curled up beside the centreboard case, gazed under the sailat Inishark. The boat, swaying and dipping in a still freshening breeze, sped on. 

"Is there any large white stone on the ridge of the island?" he asked. 

"No, " said Priscilla. "There isn't a white stone of any size in thewhole bay. It's most likely a sheep. "

"It's not a sheep. Nobody ever saw a sheep with a back that went up intoa point. I believe it's the top of a tent. Steer for it, Priscilla. "

Frank was aglow with excitement. The sailing intoxicated him. The sightof the triangular apex of the tent put himself beside himself. 

"Turn the boat, Priscilla. Go down to the island. "

Priscilla was cooler. 

"We'll hold on a minute, " she said, "and make sure. There's no userunning all that way down to leeward until we're certain. We'd only haveto beat up again. "

"It is a tent, " said Frank. "I can see now. There are two tents. "

Priscilla caught his excitement She knelt on the floor boards, crookedher elbow over the tiller, leaned over the side of the boat and staredunder the sail at the island. 

"That's him, " she said. "Now, Cousin Frank, we'll have to jibe again toget down there. Do you think you can be a bit nippier in getting overthe centreboard than you were last time. It's blowing harder, and itwon't do to upset. You very nearly had us over before. "

Frank was too excited to notice that she now put the whole blame ofthe sudden violence of the last jibe on him. Thinking over the matterafterwards, he remembered that she had apologised at the time for herown bad steering. Now she wanted to hold his awkwardness responsible forwhat might have been a disaster. 

"All right, " he said, "All right I'll do whatever you tell me. "

"I won't risk it, " said Priscilla. "You'd mean to do all right, but youwouldn't when the time came. That ankle of yours, you know. After all, it's just as easy to run her up into the wind and stay her. "

"There's a man at the door of one of the tents looking at us through apair of glasses, " said Frank. 

"Let him, " said Priscilla. 

She was hauling in the main sheet as the boat swept up into the wind. 

"Now, Cousin Frank, ready about. You must slack off the jib sheet andhaul down the other. That thin rope at your hand. Yes, that's it. "

The meaning of this new manoeuvre was dim and uncertain to Frank. Hegrasped the rope indicated to him and then heard a noise as if some oneat the bottom of the sea, an angry mermaid perhaps, was striking thekeel of the boat hard with a hammer. 

"She's touching, " said Priscilla. "Up centreboard, quick. "

Frank gazed at her in pained bewilderment. He had not the least idea ofwhat she wanted him to do. The knocking at the boat's bottom became morefrequent and violent. Priscilla gave the main sheet a turn round acleat and stretched forward, holding the tiller with her left hand. Shegrasped a rope, one out of a tangled web of wet ropes, and tugged. Theknocking ceased. The boat swept up into the wind. There was a suddenarrest of movement, a violent list over, a dart forward, a softcrunching sound, and then a dead stop. 

"Bother, " said Priscilla, "we're aground. "

She sprang overboard at once, stood knee deep in the water, and tuggedat the stern of the boat The centreboard, when she dropped its rope, fell to the bottom of its case, caught in the mud under the boat, andanchored her immovably. Priscilla tugged in vain. 

"It's no good, " she said at last, "and the tide's ebbing. We're here forhours and hours. I hope you didn't hurt your ankle, Cousin Frank, duringthat fray. "

CHAPTER VII

"That fellow is still looking at us through his glasses, " said Frank. 

"Can't help it, " said Priscilla, "If it amuses him he can go on lookingat us for the next four hours. "

She gathered her dripping skirt round her and stepped into the boat

"Sylvia Courtney, " she said, "told me last term that her favorite poemin English literature, is 'Gray's Elegy' on account of it's being sofull of calm. Sometimes I think that Sylvia Courtney is rather a beast. "

"She must be a rotter, " said Frank, "if she said that. "

"All the same, there's no use our fretting ourselves into a fuss. Wecan't get out of this unless we had the wings of a dove, so we may aswell take the sails off the boat. "

She climbed across Frank, loosed the halyard and brought the lug downinto the boat with a sudden run. Frank was buried in the folds of itAfter some struggling he got his head out and breathed freely. 

"I say, Priscilla, " he said, "why didn't you tell me you were going todo that?"

Priscilla was gathering the foresail in her arms. 

"I thought you knew, " she said. 

"I didn't know the beastly thing was going to come down on my head. "

"That fellow on the island, " said Priscilla, "is getting down his tentsand seems to be in a mighty hurry. He's got a woman helping him. Doyou think she could be a female spy? There are such things. They carrysecret ciphers sewn into their stays and other things of that kind. "

"I don't believe they're spies at all, " said Frank, who was feelingdishevelled and uncomfortable after his struggle with the sail. 

"Anyhow they seem pretty keen on getting away from Inishark. Just lookat them. "

There was no doubt that the people on the island were doing theirbest to strike their camp as quickly as possible. In their hurry theystumbled over guy ropes, got the fly sheet of one of their tents badlytangled round a packing case, and made the matter worse by trying tofree it without proper consideration. 

"Let them fuss, " said Priscilla. "We can't help it if they do get away. If your ankle isn't too bad we might as well have lunch. You grub outthe food when I get off my shoes and stockings, I'm a bit damp about thelegs. "

Frank felt under the thwart through which the mast was stepped and drewout one by one the parcel of macaroons, the tongue, the tin of peachesand the bottles. Priscilla wrung out her stockings over the stern of theboat and then hung them on the gunwale to dry. She propped her shoes upagainst the stern where they would get as much breeze as possible. 

"I wish, " said Frank, "that we'd thought of getting some bread. "

"Why? Don't you like macaroons?"

"I like them all right, but they don't go very well with tongue. "

"We'll begin with the tongue, then, and keep the macaroons tillafterwards. Hand it over. "

She took a rowlock and shattered the jar which held the tongue. Shesucceeded in throwing some of the broken glass overboard. A good dealmore of it stuck in the tongue. 

"What I generally do, " she said, "when I'm out in the _Blue Wanderer_by myself and happen to have a tongue, which isn't often on account oftheir being so beastly expensive—but whenever I have I simply bite bitsoff it as I happen to want them. But I know that's not polite. If youprefer it, Cousin Frank, you can gouge out a chunk or two with yourknife before I gnaw it. "

This seemed to Frank a good suggestion. He got out his knife. 

"Sylvia Courtney is always frightfully polite, " said Priscilla. 

Frank hesitated. The recollection of Sylvia Courtney's appreciation ofWordsworth's "Ode to Duty" and her fondness for "Gray's Elegy" for thesake of its calm came to him. He would not be classed with her. He puthis knife back into his pocket and bit a small bit off the tongue. Thenhe leaned over the side of the boat and spat out a good deal of brokenglass. He also spat out some blood. 

"That seems to be rather a glassy bit you've got, " said Priscilla. "Areyou cut?"

"A little, " said Frank, "but it doesn't matter. "

Priscilla bit off a large mouthful and handed the tongue back to Frank. Her cheeks bulged a good deal, but she chewed without any appearanceof discomfort. Frank had read in books about "the call of the wild. "He now, for the first time, felt the lust for savage life. He took thetongue, tore off a fragment with his teeth, and discovered as he ate it, that he was exceedingly hungry. 

"Your lemonade bottle, " he said, a few minutes later, "has one of thoseglass stoppers in it instead of a cork. How shall I open it?"

"Shank of a rowlock, " said Priscilla. "Those spies on the island havegot their tents down at last They're packing up now. "

Frank opened the lemonade bottle and then glanced at the island. Thefemale spy was packing a holdall. Her companion was staggering down thebeach towards the place where Flanagan's old boat lay high and dryon her side. He carried the packing case on his shoulder. Priscilla, tilting her head back, drank the lemonade from its bottle in largegulps. Then she opened the parcel of biscuits and munched a macarooncontentedly. 

"It's dashed annoying, " said Frank, "having to sit here and watch themescape, just as we had them cornered too. "

The inside of his lip hurt him a good deal while he ate. He wantedto grumble about something; but the fear of being compared to SylviaCourtney kept him silent about the broken glass. Priscilla took anothermacaroon. 

"We were doing Wordsworth's 'Excursion' last term, " she said, "inEnglish literature, and there's a long tract of it called 'DespondencyCorrected. ' I wish I had it here now. It's just what would do you good. "

Frank nibbled a biscuit with his eyes on the island. The man wascarrying down a bundle of rugs to the boat. The woman followed him withone of the tents. Then they went back together to their camping groundand collected a number of small objects which were scattered about. Frank became desperate. 

"Priscilla, " he said, "don't you think you could wade across to thatisland. There's only about an inch and a half of water round the boatnow. I'd do it myself if it wasn't for this infernal ankle. I simplycan't walk. "

"I could, " said Priscilla, "and what's more, I would, only that there'sa deep channel between us and them. If I'd jibed that time instead oftrying to stay her I should have kept in the channel and not run on tothis bank. I knew it was here all right, but I forgot it just at themoment. That's the worst of moments. They simply make one forget things, however hard one tries not to. I daresay you've noticed that. "

Frank had as a matter of fact noticed this peculiarity of moments veryoften. It had turned up in the course of his experience both on cricketand football fields. But it seemed to him that the consequences of beingentrapped by it were much more serious in sailing boats than elsewhere. He was so far from blaming Priscilla for the plight of the _Tortoise_that he felt very grateful to her for not blaming him. His moment hadcome when she gave him the order about the centreboard. Then not onlymemory, but all power of coherent thought had deserted him. 

"Let's have at the Californian peaches, " said Priscilla. "But we'dbetter eat a bit slower now that the first pangs of hunger are allayed. If we hurry up too much we'll have no food left soon and we haveabsolutely nothing else to do except to eat until five o'clock thisafternoon. We can't expect to get off before that. "

The spies packed their belongings into Flanagan's old boat and then setto work to push her down to the sea. Frank, with the point of the openerdriven through the top of the peach tin, paused to watch them. Theyshoved and pulled vainly. The boat remained where she was. Frank beganto hope that they, too, might have to wait for the rising tide. They satdown on a large stone and consulted together. Then they took everythingout of the boat and tried pushing and pulling her again. Her weight wasstill too great for them. They moved her forward in short jerks, buteach time they moved her the keel at her stern buried itself deeperin the soft mud. They sat down, evidently somewhat exhausted, and hadanother consultation. Then the man got the oars and laid them out asrollers. He lifted the boat's stern on to the first of them. 

"I thought, " said Priscilla, "that they'd hit on that dodge sooner orlater. Now they'll get on a bit. Go on scalping the peach tin, CousinFrank. "

The peaches had been cut in half by the kindly Californian who preservedthem and a half peach fits, with a little squeezing, into any mouth ofordinary size. Priscilla and Frank fished them out with their fingersand ate them. Some juice, but considering the circumstances very little, dripped down the front of Frank's white flannel coat, the gloriouscrimson bound coat of the first eleven. He did not care in the least. Hehad lapsed hopelessly. No urchin in the lower school, brewing cocoaover a form room fire, ladling out condensed milk with the blade of apenknife, would have been more dead to the decencies of life than thisdegenerate hero of the lower sixth. 

"They're getting the boat down, " said Priscilla, swallowing a lump ofpeach. "Do you think that you could throw stones far enough to hit themwhen they get out into the channel? I'd grub up the stones for you. Wemight frighten them back that way. "

Frank had won second prize in the sports at the end of the Easter termfor throwing the cricket ball. He looked across the stretch of water andjudged the distance carefully. 

"No, " he said, regretfully, "I couldn't. "

"That's a pity, " said Priscilla, "for I can't, either. I never could shyworth tuppence. Curious, isn't it? Hardly any girls can. "

The spies had got old Flanagan's boat down to the water's edge. They went back to the place where she had lain first. By a series oflaborious portages they got all their goods down to the beach and packedthem into the boat. 

"They're off now, " said Frank, regretfully. 

"I wouldn't be too sure, " said Priscilla. "That fellow's anextraordinary ass with a boat. "

Her optimism was well founded. By shoving hard the spies ran theirboat into the water. The lady spy stopped at the brink. The man, withreckless indifference to wet feet, followed the boat, still shoving. It happens that the shore of the north side of Inishark shelves veryrapidly into the deep channel. The boat floated suddenly, and urged bythe violence of the last shove, slid rapidly from the shore. The mangrasped at her. His fingers slid along the gunwale. He plunged forwardknee-deep, snatched at the retreating bow, missed it, stumbled andfell headlong into the water. The boat floated free and swung into thechannel on the tide. 

Priscilla leaped up excitedly. 

"Now they're done, " she said. "They're far worse stuck than we are. "

"Oh, do look at him, " said Frank, "Did you ever see anything so funny?"

The man staggered to his feet and floundered towards the shore, squeezing the salt water from his eyes with his knuckles. 

"Of course, I'm sorry for the poor beast in a way, " said Priscilla, "butI can't help feeling that it jolly well serves him right. Oh, look atthem now!"

She laughed convulsively. The scene was sufficiently ridiculous. The spystood dripping forlornly, on the shore. The lady dabbed at various partsof his clothing with her pocket-handkerchief. Flanagan's old boat, nowfairly in mid-channel, bobbed cheerfully along on the ebbing tide. 

"I'd give a lot this minute, " said Priscilla, "for a pair of glasses. Ican't think why I was such a fool as not to take father's when we werestarting. "

"I can see well enough, " said Frank. "What I'd like would be to be ableto hear what he's saying. "

"I don't take any interest in bad language, and in any case I don'tbelieve he's capable of it. He looked to me like the kind of man whowouldn't say anything much worse than 'Dear me. '"

"Wouldn't he? Look at him now. If he isn't cursing I'll eat my hat. "

The spy had shaken himself free of his companion's pocket handkerchief. He was waving his arms violently and shouting so loudly that his voicereached the _Tortoise_ against the wind. 

"I suppose, " said Priscilla, "that that's his way of trying to get drywithout catching a chill. Horrid ass, isn't he? It'd be far better forhim to run. What's the good of yelling? I expect in reality it's simplytemper. "

But Priscilla underestimated the intelligence of the spy. It appearedvery soon that he was not merely giving expression to emotion, but had apurpose in his performance. The lady, too, began to shout, shrilly. Shewaved her damp pocket handkerchief round and round her head. Priscillaand Frank turned and saw that another boat, a small black boat, witha very dilapidated lug sail, had appeared round the corner of the nextisland, and was making towards Inishark. 

"Bother, " said Priscilla, "that man, whoever he is, will bring them backtheir boat. "

The steersman in the lug-sailed boat altered his course slightly andreached down towards the derelict As he neared her he dropped his sailand got out oars. 

"That's young Kinsella, " said Priscilla. "I know him by the red sleevehis mother sewed into that gray shirt of his. No one else has a shirtthe least like it. He's a soft-hearted sort of boy who'd do a good turnto any one. He's sure to take their boat back to them. "

"He has a lady with him, " said Frank. 

"He has. I can't see who she is; but it doesn't look like his mother. Can't be, in fact, for she has a baby to mind. I collared a lot offlannel out of a box in Aunt Juliet's room last 'hols' and gave it toher for the baby. It's a bit of what I gave her that was made into asleeve for Jimmy's shirt. I wonder now who it is he has got with him?"

Jimmy Kinsella overtook the drifting boat, took her painter, and beganto tow her towards Inishark. 

"That lady, " said Priscilla, "is a black stranger to me. Who can shepossibly be?"

Jimmy Kinsella rowed hard, and in about ten minutes ran his ownboat aground on Inishark. He disembarked, dragged at the painter ofFlanagan's boat and handed her over to the lady on the island. A longconversation followed. The whole party, Jimmy Kinsella, his lady, thedripping spy, and the original lady with the damp pocket handkerchief, consulted together eagerly. Then they took the hold-all out ofFlanagan's boat. There was another conversation, and it became plainthat the two ladies were expostulating with the dripping gentleman. Jimmy Kinsella stood a little apart and gazed placidly at the two boats. Then the hold-all was unpacked and a number of garments laid out on thebeach. They were sorted out and a bundle of them handed to the spy. He walked straight up the slope of the island and disappeared over thecrest of the hill. 

"Gone to change his clothes, " said Priscilla. 

The two ladies repacked the hold-all. Jimmy Kinsella stowed it in thebow of Flanagan's boat. Then the lady of the island got it out again, unpacked it once more, and took something out of it. 

"Clean pocket-handkerchief, I expect, " said Priscilla. 

The guess was evidently a good one, for she spread the wet handkerchiefon a stone. Her companion reappeared over the crest of the island, cladin another pair of white trousers and another sweater. He carried hiswet garments at arm's length. Jimmy Kinsella went to meet him. Theytalked together as they walked down to the boats. Then the two ladieskissed each other warmly. Priscilla watched the performance with asneer. 

"Awful rot, that kind of thing, " she said. 

"All women do it, " said Frank. 

Here at last he was unquestionably Priscilla's superior. Never, tohis recollection, had he kissed any one except his mother, and he wasgenerally content to allow her to kiss him. 

"I don't; Sylvia Courtney tried it on with me when we were sayinggood-bye at the end of last term, but I jolly soon choked her off. Can'tthink where the pleasure is supposed to come in. "

Jimmy Kinsella placed the spy lady in the stern of Flanagan's boat andhanded in her companion. He arranged the oars and the rowlocks and then, standing ankle deep in the water, shoved her off. The spy took hisoars and pulled away. Priscilla and Frank watched the boat until shedisappeared. 

"Pretty rough luck on us, " said Priscilla, "Jimmy Kinsella turning upjust at that moment. I wonder if that woman is a man in disguise. Shemight be, you know. They sometimes are. "

"Couldn't possibly. No man would have been such a fool as to go tryingto dry anybody with a pocket handkerchief. Only a woman——"

"If it comes to that, " said Priscilla, "no woman would have been such afool as to let that boat go the way he did. Girls aren't the only assesin the world, Cousin Frank. "

"Besides, " said Frank, "she evidently took a lot of trouble to persuadehim to change his clothes. That looks as if——"

"It does, rather. I daresay she's his aunt. It's just the kind of thingAunt Juliet would have done before she took to Christian Science. Now, of course, it would be against her principles. Let's have anotherCalifornian peach to fill in the time. "

Frank handed the tin to her and afterwards helped himself. 

"Have you drunk all your beer, Cousin Frank?"

"No. Want some?"

"I was only thinking, " said Priscilla, "that perhaps you'd better not. I've just recollected King John. "

"What about him?"

"It was peaches and beer that finished him off, after he'd got stuck incrossing the Wash. That's rather the sort of position we're in now, andI shouldn't like anything to happen to you. "

Frank, by way of demonstrating his courage, took a long draught of lagerbeer, then he looked across at Inishark. Priscilla's eyes followed his. For a minute or two they gazed in silence. 

Jimmy Kinsella's boat still lay on the shore. Jimmy Kinsella's ladyhad taken off her shoes and stockings and rolled up the sleeves of herblouse. Her skirt was kilted high and folded over a broad band whichkept it well above her knees. Jimmy Kinsella himself, who was modest aswell as chivalrous, sat on a stone with his back to her and gazed at theslope of the island. The lady waded about in the shallow water. Now andthen she plunged her arms in and appeared to fish something up from thebottom. Priscilla and Frank looked at each other in amazement. 

"I wonder what on earth's she's doing, " said Priscilla. "Can shepossibly be taking soundings?"

"No, " said Frank. "Soundings aren't taken that way. You do it with aline and a lead from the deck of a ship. "

"All the same, " said Priscilla, "she's in league with the other spies. You saw the way they kissed each other. "

"She may, " said Frank, "be taking specimens of the sea bottom. That's avery important thing, I believe. "

"It is, frightfully; but that's not the way it's done. There was acurious old johnny last term who gave us a lecture on hydrography—that'swhat he called it—and he said you gather up small bits of the bottom byputting tallow on the end of a lump of lead. I expect he knew what hewas talking about, but, of course, he may not You never can tell aboutthose scientific lecturers. They keep on contradicting each other so. "

"If she's not doing that, what is she doing?"

"She may possibly be trying to cure her rheumatism, " said Priscilla. "They generally bathe for that; but she may not feel bad enough to goto such extremes. She looks rather fat. Fat people do have rheumatism, don't they?"

"No, gout. "

"More or less the same thing, " said Priscilla. "Of course, if that'swhat she's at, she's not a spy, and we oughtn't to go on treating heras if she was. I don't think it's right to suspect people of really badcrimes unless one knows. Do you, Cousin Frank?"

"Of course not. All the same, the way she's going on is rather queer. She's just put something that she picked up into that tin box she hasslung across her back. That doesn't look to me as if she had gout. "

"If only Jimmy Kinsella would turn this way, " said Priscilla, "I'd waveat him and make him come over here. It's perfectly maddening being stucklike this when such a lot of exciting things are going on. What time isit?"

"A little after two. "

"It's low water then, " said Priscilla. "From this on the tide will becoming in again. "

The _Tortoise_ lay on the top of a grey bank from which the water hadentirely receded. Between her and the channel, now a tangle of floatingweed, lay a broad stretch of mud, dotted over with large stones andpatches of gravel. The wind, which had been veering round to the southsince twelve o'clock, had almost entirely died away. The sun shone verywarmly. The _Tortoise_, lying sadly on her side, afforded no shelter atall. Both the beer and the lemonade were finished. 

Priscilla drank some peach juice from the tin. 

CHAPTER VIII

After wading about for a little more than half an hour, Jimmy Kineslla'slady went ashore. She rolled down the sleeves of her blouse and lether skirt fall about her ankles, but she did not put on her shoes andstockings. Jimmy Kinsella was summoned from his stone and launched hisboat. 

"I daresay, " said Priscilla, "that she thinks her rheumatism ought to becured by now. That is to say, of course, if she really has rheumatism, and isn't a nefarious spy. I rather like that word nefarious. Don't you?I stuck it into an English comp. The other day and spelt it quite right, but it came back to me with a blue pencil mark under it. Sylvia Courtneysaid that I hadn't used it in quite the ordinary sense. She thinksshe knows, and very likely she does, though not quite as much as sheimagines. Nobody can know everything; which is rather a comfort whenit comes to algebra. I loath algebra and always did. Any right-mindedperson would, I think. "

"It looks to me, " said Frank, "as if they were coming over here. "

Jimmy Kinsella was heading his boat straight for the bank on which the_Tortoise_ lay. In a few minutes she grounded on the edge of it. Thelady stepped out and paddled across the mud towards the _Tortoise_. Seen at close quarters she was, without doubt, fat, and had a roundgood-humoured face. Her eyes sparkled pleasantly behind a pair of goldrimmed pince-nez. 

"She is coming over to us, " said Priscilla. "The thing is for you tokeep her in play and unravel her mystery, while I slip off and put a fewstraight questions to Jimmy Kinsella. Be as polite as you possibly canso as to disarm suspicion. "

Priscilla began the course of diplomatic politeness herself. 

"We're delighted to see you, " she said. "My name is Priscilla Lentaigne, and my cousin is Frank Mannix. We're out for a picnic. "

"My name, " said the lady, "is Rutherford, Martha Rutherford. I'm outafter sponges. "

"Sponges!" said Frank. 

Priscilla winked at him. The statement about the sponges was obviouslyuntrue. There is no sponge fishery in Rosnacree Bay. There never hasbeen. Miss Rutherford, so to speak, intercepted Priscilla's wink. 

"By sponges, " she said, "I mean——"

"Won't you sit down?" said Priscilla. 

She picked her stockings from the gunwale of the boat, leaving a clearspace beside Miss Rutherford. 

"Bother!" she said, "the dye out of the purple clocks has run. That'sthe worst of purple clocks. I half suspected it would at the time, butSylvia Courtney insisted on my buying them. She said they looked chic. Would you care for anything to eat, Miss Rutherford?"

"I'm nearly starved. That's why I came over here. I thought you mighthave some food. "

"We've lots, " said Priscilla. "Frank will give it to you. I'll just stepacross and speak to Jimmy Kinsella. I want to hear about the baby. "

"I'm afraid, " said Miss Rutherford, when Priscilla left them, "that yourcousin doesn't believe me about the sponges. "

Frank felt deeply ashamed of Priscilla's behaviour. The prefect in himreasserted itself now that he was in the presence of a grown-up lady. Hefelt it necessary to apologise. 

"She's very young, " he said, "and I'm afraid she's rather foolish. Little girls of that age——"

He intended to say something of a paternal kind, something which wouldgive Miss Rutherford the impression that he had kindly undertaken thecare of Priscilla during the day in order to oblige those ordinarilyresponsible for her. A curious smile, which began to form at the cornersof Miss Rutherford's lips and a sudden twinkling of her eyes, stoppedhim abruptly. 

"I hope you'll excuse my not standing up, " he said, "I've sprained myankle. "

"I'd like to get in and sit beside you if I may, " said Miss Rutherford. "Now for the food. "

"There's some cold tongue, " said Frank. 

"Capital. I love cold tongue. "

"But—I'm afraid—" He fished it out from beneath the thwart, "—it may berather grubby. "

"I don't mind that a bit. "

"And—the fact is my cousin—it's only fair to tell you—she bit it prettynearly all over and——" Frank hesitated. He was an honourable boy. Evenat the cost of losing Miss Rutherford's respect he would not refrainfrom telling the truth, "And I bit it too, " he blurted out. 

"Then I suppose I may, " said Miss Rutherford. "I should like to morethan anything. I so seldom get the chance. "

She bit and munched heartily; bit again, and smiled at Frank. He beganto feel more at his ease. 

"There are some biscuits, " he said. "The macaroons are finished, I'mafraid. But there are some cocoanut creams. I'm afraid they're rathertoo sweet to go well with tongue. "

"In the state of starvation I'm in, " she said, "marmalade would go withpea soup. Cocoanut creams and tongue will be simply delicious. Have youanything to drink?"

"Only the juice of the tinned peaches. "

"Peach juice, " said Miss Rutherford, "is nectar. Do I drink it out ofthe tin or must I pour it into the palm of my hand and lap?"

"Any way you like, " said Frank. "I believe there's a bailer somewhere ifyou prefer it. "

"I prefer the tin, if it doesn't shock you. "

"Oh, " said Frank, "nothing shocks me. "

This was very nearly true. It had not been true a week before; but aday on the sea with Priscilla had done a great deal for Frank. MissRutherford threw her head back, tilted the peach tin, and quaffed asatisfying draught. 

"I'm afraid, " she said, "that you were just as sceptical as your cousinwas about my sponges. "

"I was rather surprised. "

"Naturally. You were thinking of bath sponges and naked Indians plungingover the side of their boats with large stones in their hands to sinkthem. But I'm not after bath sponges. I'm doing the zoophytes for thenatural history survey of this district. "

"Oh, " said Frank vaguely. 

"They brought me over from the British Museum because I'm supposedto know something about the zoophytes. I ought to, for I don't knowanything else. "

"It must be most interesting. "

"Last week I did the fresh water lakes and got some very good results. Professor Wilder and his wife are doing rotifers. They're stopping——"

"In tents?" said Frank with interest. 

"Tents! No. In quite the sweetest cottage you ever saw. I sleep on asofa in the porch. What put tents into your head?"

"Then it wasn't Professor Wilder and his wife whose boat you rescuedjust now?"

"Oh, dear no. I don't know who those people are at all. I never saw thembefore. Miss Benson is doing the lichens, and Mr. Farringdon the moths. They're the only other members of our party here at present, and I'm theonly one out on the bay. "

Frank was conscious of a sense of relief. It would have been adisappointment to him if the German spies had turned out to be harmlessbotanists or entomologists. 

Jimmy Kinsella was sitting in front of his boat gazing placidly at thesea when Priscilla tapped him on the shoulder. 

"What are you doing here, Jimmy?" she said. 

"Is that yourself, Miss?" said Jimmy, eyeing her quietly. 

"It is. And the only other person present is you. Now we've got thatsettled. "

Jimmy Kinsella grinned. 

"I thought it was the _Tortoise_ when I saw her; but I said to myself'There's strangers on board of her, for Miss Priscilla would know betterthan to run her aground on the bank when the tide would be leavingher. '"

"You haven't told me yet, " said Priscilla, "what you're doing here. "

"I'm out along with the lady beyond. "

"I could see that much for myself. What's she doing?"

"Without she'd be trying the salt water for the good of her health, Idon't know what she's doing. "

"I thought at first that it might be that, " said Priscilla. "Has she anysponges with her?"

"Not that I seen, Miss. But sure none of them would take a sponge withthem into the sea. They get plenty of it without that. "

"I just thought she hadn't. "

"If I was to be put on my oath, " said Jimmy slowly, "and was to be askedwhat I thought of her——"

"That's just what I am asking you. "

"I'd say she was a high up lady; may be one of them ones that does bewaiting on the Queen, or the wife of the Lord Lieutenant or such. "

"What makes you say that?"

"The skin of her. "

Jimmy's eyes which had been fixed on the remote horizon focussedthemselves slowly for nearer objects. His glance settled finally onPriscilla's bare feet. 

"Ah!" she said, "when she took off her shoes and stockings?"

"Saving your presence, Miss, the legs of her doesn't look as if she wasaccustomed to going about that way. "

"And that's all you know about her?"

"Herself and a gentleman that was along with her settled with my dayesterday for the use of the boat, the way I'd row her anywhere she'd afancy to go. "

"That was the gentleman who has Flanagan's old boat, I suppose?"

"It was not then, but a different gentleman altogether. "

"Then you can leave him out, " said Prisdlla, "and tell me all you knowabout the other couple, the ones who lost their boat. "

"Them ones, " said Jimmy, "has no sense, no more than a baby would have. Did you hear what they're after paying Flanagan for that old boat ofhis?"

"Four pounds a week. "

"You'd think, " said Jimmy, "that when they'd no more care for theirmoney than to be throwing it away that way they'd be able to affordto pay for a roof over their heads and not to be sleeping on the bareground with no more than a cotton rag to shelter them. It was lastFriday they came in to Inishbawn looking mighty near as if they'd hadenough of it 'Is there any objection, ' says he, 'to our camping on thisisland?' 'We'll pay you, ' says the lady, 'anything in reason for the useof the land. ' My da was terrible sorry for them, for he could see wellthat they weren't ones that was used to hardship; but he told them thatit would be better for them not. "

"On account of the rats?"

"Rats! What rats?"

"The rats that have the island very nearly eaten, " said Priscilla. 

"Sorra the rat ever I saw on Inishbawn, only one that came out in theboat one day along with a sack of yellow meal my da was bringing homefrom the quay; and I killed it myself with the slap of a loy. "

"I just thought Peter Walsh was telling me a lie about the rats, " saidPriscilla. "But if it wasn't rats will you tell me why your fatherwouldn't let them camp on Inishbawn?"

"He said it would be better for them not, " said Jimmy, "on account ofthere being fever on it, for fear they might catch it and maybe die. "

"What fever?"

"I don't rightly know the name of it; but sure my ma is covered thickwith yellow spots the size of a sixpence or bigger; and the young ladsis worse. The cries of them at night would make you turn round on yourbed pitying them. "

"Do you expect me to believe all that?" said Priscilla. 

"Three times my da was in for the doctor, " said Jimmy, "and thethird time he fetched out a powerful fine bottle that he bought inBrannigan's, but it was no more use to them than water. Is it likely nowthat he'd allow a strange lady and a gentleman to come to the island, and them not knowing? He wouldn't do it for a hundred pounds. "

"If you're going on talking that kind of way there's not much use myasking you any more questions. But I'd like very much to know wherethose camping people are now. "

"I shouldn't wonder, " said Jimmy, "but they're drowned. The planks ofthat old boat of Flanagan's is opened so as you could see the daylightin between every one of them, and it would take a man with a can to bebailing the whole time you'd be going anywhere in her; let alone thatthe gentleman——"

"I know what the gentleman is in a boat, " said Priscilla. 

"And herself is no better. It was only this morning my ma was saying tome that it's wonderful the little sense them ones has. "

"I thought, " said Priscilla, "that your mother was out all over yellowspots. What does she know about them?"

Jimmy Kinsella grinned sheepishly. 

"Believe you me, Miss, " he said, "if it was only yourself that was init——"

"There'd be neither rats nor fever on the island, I suppose. "

Jimmy looked towards the _Tortoise_ and let his eyes rest with aninquiring expression on Frank Mannix. 

"That gentleman's ankle is sprained, " said Priscilla, "so whatever it isthat you have on your island, you needn't be afraid of him. "

"That might be, " said Jimmy. 

"You can tell your father from me, " said Priscilla, "that the next timeI'm out this way I'll land on Inish-bawn and see for myself what it isthat has you all telling lies. "

"Any time you come, Miss, you'll be welcome. It's a poor place we have, surely, but it would be a queer thing if we wouldn't give you the bestof what might be going. But I don't know how it is. There's a powerfullot of strangers knocking around, people that might be decent or mightnot. "

His eyes were still fixed on Frank Mannix when Priscilla left him. 

The tide was flowing strongly and the water began to cover the lowerparts of the bank. Priscilla measured with her eye the distance betweenthe _Tortoise_ and the sea. She calculated that she might get off inabout an hour. 

When she reached the _Tortoise_ she found Frank pressing the last halfpeach on their guest. 

"Miss Rutherford, " said Priscilla, "have you landed on Inishbawn, thatisland to the west of you, behind the corner of Illaunglos?"

"No, " she said. "I wanted to, but the boy who's rowing me stronglyadvised me not to. "

"Rats?" Said Priscilla, "or fever?"

Miss Rutherford seemed puzzled by the inquiry. 

"What I mean, " said Priscilla, "is this: did he give you any reason fornot landing on the island?"

"As well as I recollect, " said Miss Rutherford, "he said something tothe effect that it wasn't a suitable island for ladies. I didn't takemuch notice of what he said, for it didn't matter to me where I landed. One of the islands is the same thing as another. In fact Inishbawn, ifthat's its name, doesn't look a very good place for sponges. "

"Oh, you still stick to those sponges?" said Priscilla. 

"Miss Rutherford, " said Frank, "is collecting zoophytes for the BritishMuseum. "

"Investigating and tabulating, " said Miss Rutherford, "for the RoyalDublin Society's Natural History Survey. "

"I took up elementary science last term, " said Priscilla, "but we didn'tdo about those things of yours. I daresay we'll get on to them nextyear. If we do I'll write to you for the names of some of the rarerkinds and score off Miss Pennycolt with them. She's the science teacher, and she thinks she knows a lot. It'll do her good to be made to looksmall over a sponge that she's never seen before, or even heard of. "

"I'll send them to you, " said Miss Rutherford. "I take the greatestdelight in scoring off science teachers everywhere. I was taught sciencemyself at one time and I know exactly what it's like. "

Jimmy Kinsella sat on a stone with his back to the party in the_Tortoise_. An instinct for good manners is the natural inheritance ofall Irishmen. The peasant has it as surely as the peer, generally indeedmore surely, for the peer, having mixed more with men of other nations, loses something of his natural delicacy of feeling. When, as in the caseof young Kinsella, the Irishman has much to do with the sea his courtesyreaches a high degree of refinement As the advancing tide crept inchby inch over the mudbank Jimmy Kinsella was forced back towards the_Tortoise_. He moved from stone to stone, dragging his boat after him asthe water floated her. Never once did he look round or make any attemptto attract the attention of Miss Rutherford. He would no doubt haveretreated uncomplaining to the highest point of the bank and sat theretill the water reached his waist, clinging to the painter of the boat, rather than disturb the conversation of the lady whom he had taken underhis care. But his courtesy was put to no such extreme test He made amove at last which brought him within a few feet of the _Tortoise_. Amere patch of sea-soaked mud remained uncovered. The water, advancingfrom the far side of the bank, already lapped against the bows ofthe _Tortoise_. Miss Rutherford woke up to the fact that the time forcatching sponges was past. 

"I'm afraid, " she said, "that I ought to be getting home. I can't tellyou how much obliged to you I am for feeding me. I believe I should havefainted if it hadn't been for that tongue. "

"It was a pleasure to us, " said Priscilla. "We'd eaten all we couldbefore you came. "

"I'm afraid, " said Frank politely, "that it wasn't very nice. We oughtto have had knives and forks or at least a tumbler to drink out of. Idon't know what you must think of us. "

"Think of you!" said Miss Rutherford. "I think you're the two nicestchildren I ever met. "

She stumped off and joined Jimmy Kinsella. Priscilla saw her putting onher shoes and stockings as the boat rowed away. She shouted a farewell. Miss Rutherford waved a stocking in reply. 

"There, " said Priscilla, turning to Frank, "what do you think of that?The two nicest children! I don't mind of course; but I do call it ratherrough on you after talking so grand and having on your best first elevencoat and all. "

CHAPTER IX

Frank learned several things while the sails were being hoisted. Theword halyard became familiar to him and connected itself definitelywith certain ropes. He discovered that a sheet is, oddly enough, not anexpanse of canvas, but another rope. He impressed carefully on his mindthe part of the boat in which he might, under favourable circumstances, expect to find the centreboard tackle. 

The wind, which had dropped completely at low water, sprang up again, this time from the west, with the rising tide. This was pleasant andpromised a fair run home, but Priscilla eyed the sky suspiciously. Shewas weather-wise. 

"It'll die clean away, " she said, "towards evening. It always does onthis kind of day when it has worked round with the sun. Curious thingswinds are, Cousin Frank, aren't they? Rather like ices in some ways, Ialways think. "

Frank had considerable experience of ices, and had been obliged, whileplaying various games, to take some notice of the wind from time totime; but he missed the point of Priscilla's comparison. She explainedherself. 

"If you put in a good spoonful at once, " she said, "it gives you a painin some tooth or other and you don't enjoy it. On the other hand, if youput in a very little bit it gets melted away before you're able totaste it properly. That's just the way the wind behaves when you're outsailing. Either it has you clinging on to the main sheet for all you'reworth or else it dies away and leaves you flapping. It's only about oncea month that you get just what you want. "

It seemed to Frank, when the boat got under way, that they had happenedon the one propitious day. The _Tortoise_ slipped pleasantly along, hersails well filled, the boom pressed forward against the shroud, the mainsheet an attenuated coil at Priscilla's feet. 

"I'm feeling a bit bothered, " said Priscilla. 

"We ought to have been back for luncheon, " said Frank. "I know that. "

"It's not luncheon that's bothering me; although it's quite likely thatwe won't be back for dinner either. What I can't quite make up my mindabout is what we ought to do next about those spies. "

"Go after them again to-morrow. "

"That's all well enough; but things are much more mixed up than that. Insome ways I rather wish we had Sylvia Courtney with us. She's presidentof our Browning Society and tremendously good at every kind ofcomplication. What I feel is that we're rather like those boys in thepoem who went out to catch a hare and came on a lion unaware. I haven'tgot the passage quite right but you probably know it. "

Frank did. He could not, since English literature is still only fitfullystudied in public schools, have named the author. But he quoted thelines with fluent confidence. It was by turning them into Greek Iambicsthat he had won the head-master's prize. 

"That's it, " said Priscilla. "And that's more or less what has happenedto us. We went out to chase a simple, ordinary German spy and we havecome on two other mysteries of the most repulsively fascinating kind. First there's Miss Rutherford, if that's her real name, who says she'sfishing for sponges, which is certainly a lie. "

"I don't know about it's being a lie, " said Frank. "She explained it tome after you'd gone. "

"Oh, that about zoophytes. You don't believe that surely?"

"I do, " said Frank. "There are lots of queer things in the BritishMuseum. I was there once. "

"My own belief is, " said Priscilla, "that she simply trotted out thosezoophyte things and the British Museum when she found that we weren'tinclined to swallow the ordinary sponge. At the same time I can'tbelieve that she's a criminal of any kind. She struck me as being anuncommonly good sort. The wind's dropping. I told you it would. Verysoon now we shall have to row. Can you row, Cousin Frank?"

Frank replied with cheerful confidence that he could. He had sat atPriscilla's feet all day and bowed to her superior knowledge of sailing. When it came to rowing he was sure that he could hold his own. Heunderstood the phraseology of the art, had learned to take advantage ofsliding seats, could keep his back straight and had been praised by amember of a University eight for his swing. 

"The other mystery, " said Priscilla, "is Inishbawn. The Kinsellas won'tlet the spies land on the island. They won't let Miss Rutherford. Theywon't let you, They tell every kind of ridiculous story to head peopleoff. "

The thought of his prowess as an oarsman had restored Frank'sself-respect. He recollected the reason given by Jimmy Kinsella for notallowing Miss Rutherford to land on Inishbawn. 

"I don't see anything ridiculous about it, " he said. "Young Kinsellasimply said that it wasn't a suitable place for ladies. There are lotsof places we men go to where we wouldn't take———-"

His sentence tailed away. Priscilla's eyes expressed an amount ofamusement which made him feel singularly uncomfortable. 

"That, " she said, "is the most utter rot I've ever heard in my life. And in any case, even if it was true, it wouldn't apply to us. JimmyKinsella distinctly said that I might land on the island as much as Ilike, but that he jolly well wouldn't have you. We may just as well rownow as later on. The breeze is completely gone. "

She got out the oars and dropped the rowlocks into their holes. Shepulled stroke oar herself. Frank settled himself on the seat behind her. He found himself in a position of extreme discomfort. The _Tortoise_was designed and built to be a sailing boat. It was not originallycontemplated that she should be rowed far or rowed fast. When Frankleaned back at the end of his stroke he bumped against the mast When heswung forward in the proper way he hit Priscilla between the shoulderswith his knuckles. When the boat shot forward the boom swung inboard. Ifthis happened at the end of a stroke Frank was hit on the shoulder. Ifit happened at the beginning of a stroke the spar struck him on the ear. However he shifted his position he was unable to avoid sitting on somerope. The centreboard case was between his legs and when he tried to gethis injured foot against anything firm he found it entangled in ropeswhich he could not kick away. Priscilla complained. 

"Put a little more beef into it, Cousin Frank, " she said. "I'm pullingher head round all the time. "

Frank put all the energy he could into a series of short jerky strokes, using the muscles of his arms, failing altogether to get the weight ofhis body on the oar. At the end of twenty minutes Priscilla gave him arest. 

"There's no use our killing ourselves, " she said. "The tide's under us. It's a jolly lucky thing it is. If it was the other way we wouldn'tget home to-night. I wonder now whether the Kinsellas think you've anyconnection with the police. You don't look it in the least, but younever can tell what people will think. If they do mistake you foranything of the sort it might account for their not wanting you to landon Inishbawn. "

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know why exactly—not yet. But there often are thingsknocking about which it wouldn't at all do for the police to see. Thatmight happen anywhere. There's an air of wind coming up behind us. Justget in that oar of yours. We may as well take the good of what's going. "

A faint ripple on the surface of the water approached the _Tortoise_. Before it reached her the boom swung forward, lifting the dripping mainsheet from the water, and the boat slipped on. 

"But of course, " said Priscilla, "that idea of your being a policemanin disguise doesn't account for their telling Miss Rutherford that therewas something on the island which it wouldn't be nice for a lady tosee. And it doesn't account for the swine-fever story that Joseph AntonyKinsella told the spies. "

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing much. Only that his wife and children had come out all overin bright yellow spots. "

"But perhaps they have. "

"Not they. You might just as well believe in Peter Walsh's rats. Thatleaves us with three different mysteries on hand. " Priscilla hooked herelbow over the tiller and ticked off the three mysteries on the fingersof her right hand. "The sponge lady, whose name may be Miss Rutherford, one. Inishbawn Island, that's two. The original spies, which makesthree. I'm afraid we'll have to row again. Do you think you can, CousinFrank?"

"Of course I can. "

"Don't be offended. I only meant that you mightn't be able to on accountof your ankle. How is your ankle?"

"It's all right, " said Frank, "That is to say it's just the same. "

No other favouring breeze rippled the surface of the bay. For rathermore than an hour, with occasional intervals for rest, Frank tugged athis oar, bumped his back, and was struck on the side of the head bythe boom. He was very much exhausted when the _Tortoise_ was at lengthbrought alongside the slip at the end of the quay. Priscilla stillseemed fresh and vigorous. 

"I wonder, " said Frank, "if we could hire a boy. "

"Dozens, " said Priscilla, "if you want them. .. What for?"

"To wheel that bath-chair. I can't walk, you know. And I don't like tothink of your pushing me up the hill. You must be tired. "

"That, " said Priscilla, "is what I call real politeness. There are lotsof other kinds of politeness which aren't worth tuppence. But that kindis rather nice. It makes me feel quite grown up. All the same I'll wheelyou home. "

She pushed the bath-chair up the hill from the village without anyobvious effort. At the gate of the avenue she stopped. Two smallchildren were playing just inside it. A rather larger child set on thedoorstep of the gate lodge with a baby on her knee. 

"What time is it, Cousin Frank?" said Priscilla. 

"It's ten minutes past seven. "

"Susan Ann, where's your mother?"

The girl with the baby on her knee struggled to her feet and answered:

"She's up at the house beyond, Miss. "

"I just thought she must be, " said Priscilla, "when I saw William Thomasand the other boy playing there, and you nursing the baby. If yourmother wasn't up at the house you'd all be in your beds. "

She wheeled the bath-chair on until she turned the corner of the avenueand was lost to the sight of the children who peered after her. Then shepaused. 

"Cousin Frank, " she said, "it's just as well for you to be prepared forsome kind of fuss when we get home. "

"We're awfully late, I know. "

"It's not that. It's something far worse. The fuss that's going on upthere at the present moment is a thunderstorm compared to what therewould be over our being late. "

"How do you know there's a fuss?"

"Before she was married, " said Priscilla, "Mrs. Geraghty—that's thewoman at the gate lodge, the mother of those four children—was our upperhousemaid. Aunt Juliet simply loved her. She rubs her into all the otherservants day and night. She says she was the only sufficient housemaid. I'm not sure that that's quite the right word. It may be efficient Anyhow she says she's the only something-or-other-ficient housemaid sheever had; which of course is a grand thing for Mrs. Geraghty, thoughnot really as nice as it seems, because whenever anything perfectlyappalling happens Aunt Juliet sends for her. Then she and Aunt Julietrag the other servants until things get smoothed out again. The minute Isaw those children sporting about when by rights they ought to be in bedI knew that Mrs. Geraghty had been sent for. Now you understand the sortof thing you have to expect when we get home. I thought I'd just warnyou, so that you wouldn't be taken by surprise. "

Frank felt that he still might be taken by surprise and urged Priscillato give him some further details about the catastrophe. 

"We'll find out soon enough, " said Priscilla. "At least we may. If it'sthe kind of thing that's visible, streams of water running down thefront stairs or anything like that, we'll see for ourselves, but ifit happens to be a more inward sort of disaster which we can't see—andthat's the kind there's always the worst fuss about—then it may take ussome time to find out. Aunt Juliet doesn't think it's good for childrento know about inward disasters, and so she never talks of them whenI'm there except in what she calls French, and not much of that becauseFather can't understand her. They may, of course, confide in you. It alldepends on whether they think you're a child or not. "

"I'm not. "

"_I_ know that, of course. And Aunt Juliet saw you in your evening coatlast night at dinner, so she oughtn't to. But you never can tell aboutthings of that kind. Look at the sponge lady for instance. She said youwere the nicest child she ever saw. Still they may tell you. "

Frank did not like being reminded of Miss Rutherford's remark. Priscilla's repetition of it goaded him to a reply which he immediatelyafterwards felt to be unworthy. 

"If they do tell me, " he said, "I won't tell you. "

"Then you'll be a mean, low beast, " said Priscilla. 

Frank pulled himself together with an effort. He realised that it wouldnever do to bandy schoolboy repartee with Priscilla. His loss of dignitywould be complete. And besides, he was very likely to get the worstof the encounter. He was out of practise. Prefects do not descend topersonalities. 

"My dear Priscilla, " he said, "I only meant that I wouldn't tell you ifit was the sort of thing a girl oughtn't to hear. "

"Like what Jimmy Kinsella has on Inishbawn, " said Priscilla. "Do youknow, Cousin Frank, you're quite too funny for words when you go in forbeing grand. Now would you like me to wheel you up to the hall-doorand ring the bell, or would you rather we sneaked round through theshrubbery into the yard, and got in by the gunroom door and so up theback stairs?"

"I don't care, " said Frank. 

"The back way would be the wisest, " said Priscilla, "but in the state ofgrandeur you're in now——"

"Oh, do drop it, Priscilla. "

"I don't want to keep it up. "

"Then go by the back door. "

"Do you promise to tell me all about it, supposing they tell you, andthey may? You can never be sure what they'll do. "

"Yes, I promise. "

"A faithful, solemn oath?"

"Yes. "

"Whether it's the sort of thing a girl ought to be told or not?"

"Yes. Only do go on. It'll take me hours to dress, and we're awfullylate already. "

Priscilla trotted briskly through the shrubbery, crossed the yard andhelped Frank out of the chair at the gunroom door. She gave him her armwhile he hobbled up the back stairs. At the top of the first flight shedeserted him suddenly. She darted forward, half opened a baize coveredswing door and peeped through. 

"I just thought I heard them at it, " she said. "Mrs. Geraghty and thetwo housemaids are rioting in the long gallery, dragging the furnitureabout and, generally speaking, playing old hokey. That gives us acertain amount of information, Cousin Frank. "

CHAPTER X

ROSNACREE HOUSE was built early in the 19th century by the Lentaigne ofthat day, one Sir Francis. At the beginning of that century the Irishgentry were still an aristocracy. They ruled, and had among their numbermen who were gentlemen of the grand style, capable of virile passionsand striking deeds, incapable, constitutionally and by training, of theprudent foresight of careful tradesmen. Lord Thormanby, who rejoiced ina brand new Union peerage and was a wealthy man, kept race horses. SirFrancis, who, except for the Union peerage, was as big a man as LordThormanby, kept race horses too. Lord Thormanby bought a family coach ofremarkable proportions. Sir Francis ordered a duplicate of it from thesame coach-builder. Lord Thormanby employed an Italian architect tobuild him a house. Sir Francis sought out the same architect and gavehim orders to build another house, identical with Lord Thormanby's indesign, but having each room two feet longer, two feet higher andtwo feet broader than the corresponding room at Thormanby Park. Thearchitect, after talking a good deal about proportions in a way whichSir Francis did not understand, accepted the commission and erectedRosnacree House. 

The two additional cubic feet made all the difference. Lord Thormanby'sfortune survived the building operations. Lord Francis Lentaigne'sestate was crippled. 

His successors struggled with a burden of mortgages and a mansionconsiderably too large for their requirements. Sir Lucius, when histurn came, shut up the great gallery, which ran the whole length of thesecond storey of the house, and lived with a tolerable amount of elbowroom in five downstairs sitting rooms and fourteen bedrooms. MissLentaigne made occasional raids on the gallery in order to see that thefine old-fashioned furniture did not rot. Neither she nor her brotherthought of using the room. 

For Frank Mannix the white tie which is worn in the evening was stillsomething of a novelty and therefore a difficulty. He was strugglingwith it, convinced of the great importance of having the two sidesof its bow symmetrical, when Priscilla tapped at his bedroom door. Inresponse to his invitation to enter she opened the door half way and puther head and shoulders into the room. 

"I thought I'd just tell you as I was passing, " she said, "that it's allright about your ankle. "

Frank, who had just re-bandaged the injured limb, asked her what shemeant. 

"I've seen Aunt Juliet, " she said, "and I find that she's quite droppedChristian Science and is frightfully keen on Woman's Suffrage. That'salways the way with her. When she's done with a thing she simply hoofsit without a word of apology to anyone. It was the same with the uricacid. She'd talk of nothing else in the morning and before night it waswithered like the flower of the field upon the housetop, 'whereof themower filleth not his arm. ' I expect you know the sort I mean. "

She shut the door and Frank heard her running down the passage. A coupleof minutes later he heard her running back again. This time she openedthe door without tapping. 

"I can't think, " she said, "what Woman's Suffrage can possibly haveto do with the big gallery, but they must be mixed up somehow or Mrs. Geraghty and the housemaids wouldn't be sporting about the way they are. They're at it still. I've just looked in at them. "

During dinner the conversation was very largely political. Sir Luciusinveighed with great bitterness against the government's policy inIreland. Now and then he recollected that Frank's father was asupporter of the government. Then he made such excuses for the Cabinet'sblundering as he could. Miss Lentaigne also condemned the government, though less for its incurable habit for truckling to the forces ofdisorder in Ireland, than for its cowardly and treacherous treatmentof women. She made no attempt to spare Frank's feelings. Indeed, shepointed many of her remarks by uncomplimentary references to LordTorrington, Secretary of State for War, and the immediate chief of Mr. Edward Mannix, M. P. Lord Torrington, so the public understood, was themost dogged and determined opponent of the enfranchisement of women. Heabsolutely refused to receive deputations of ladies and had more thanonce said publicly that he was in entire agreement with a statementattributed to the German Emperor, by which the energies of womenwere confined to babies, baking and bazaars for church purposes. MissLentaigne scorched this sentiment with invective, and used languageabout Lord Torrington which was terrific. Her abandonment of the causeof Christian Science appeared to be as complete as the most enthusiasticgeneral practitioner could desire. Frank was exceedingly uncomfortable. Priscilla was demure and silent. 

When Miss Lentaigne, followed by Priscilla, left the room, Sir Luciusbecame confidential and friendly. He pushed the decanter of port towardsFrank. 

"Fill up your glass, my boy, " he said. "After your long day on the sea——By the way I hope your aunt—I keep forgetting that she's not youraunt—I hope she didn't say anything at dinner to hurt your feelings. You mustn't mind, you know. We're all rather hot about politics in thiscountry. Have to be with the way these infernal Leagues and things aregoing on. You don't understand, of course, Frank. Nor does your father. If he did he wouldn't vote with that gang. Your aunt—I mean to say mysister is—well, you saw for yourself. She usedn't to be, you know. It'sonly quite lately that she's taken the subject up. And there's somethingin it. I can't deny that there's something in it. She's a clever woman, There's always something in what she says. Though she pushes things toofar sometimes. So does Torrington, it appears. Only he pushes them theother way. I think he goes too far, quite too far. Of course, my sisterdoes too, in the opposite direction. "

Sir Lucius sighed. 

"It's all right, Uncle Lucius, " said Frank. "I don't mind a bit. I'm notwell enough up in these things to answer Miss Lentaigne. If father washere——"

"What's that? Is your father coming here?"

"Oh, no, " said Frank. "He's in Schlangenbad. "

"Of course, of course. By the way, your father's pretty intimate withTorrington, isn't he? The Secretary of State for War. "

"My father's under-secretary of the War Office, " said Frank. 

"Now, what sort of a man is Torrington? He's a distant cousin of mine. My great aunt was his grandmother or something of that sort But I onlymet him once, years ago. Apart from politics now, I don't profess toadmire his politics—I never did. How men like your father and Torringtoncan mix themselves up with that damned socialist crew—But apart frompolitics, what sort of a man is Torrington?"

"I never saw him, " said Frank. "I've been at school, you know, UncleLucius. "

"Quite so, quite so. But your father now. Your father must know himintimately. I know he's rich, immensely rich. American mother, Americanwife, dollars to burn, which makes it all the harder to understand hispolitics. But his private life—what does your father think of him?

"Last time father stopped there, " said Frank, "he was called in themorning by a footman who asked him whether he'd have tea, coffee orchocolate. Father said tea. 'Assam, Oolong, or Sooching, sir, ' said thefootman, 'or do you prefer your tea with a flavour of Orange Pekoe?'"

"By gad!" said Sir Lucius. 

"That's the only story I've ever heard father tell about him, " saidFrank, "but they say——"

"That he has the devil of a temper. " said Sir Lucius, "and ridesroughshod over every one? I've been told that. "

"Father never said so. "

"Quite right. He wouldn't, couldn't in fact It wouldn't be the thing atall. The fact is, Frank, that Torrington's coming here tomorrow, wiredfrom Dublin to say so. He and Lady Torrington. I can't imagine what hewants here. I'd call it damned insolence in any one else, knowing whatI must think of his rascally politics, what every decent man thinksof them. But of course he's a kind of cousin. I suppose he recollectedthat. And he's a pretty big pot. Those fellows invite themselves, likeroyalty. But I don't know what the devil to do with him, and your aunt'sgreatly upset. She says it's against her principles to be decently civilto a man who's treated women the way Torrington has. "

"If the women had let him alone——" said Frank, "I know. I know. One ofthem boxed his ears or something, pretty girl, too, I hear; but thatonly makes it worse. That sort of thing would get any man's back up. Butyour aunt—that is to say, my sister—doesn't see that. That's the worstof strong principles. You never can see when your own side is in thewrong. But it makes it infernally awkward Torrington's coming here justnow. And Lady Torrington! It upsets us all. I wonder what the devil he'scoming here for?"

"I don't know, " said Frank. "Could he be studying the Irish question?Isn't there some Home Rule Bill or something? Father said next yearwould be an Irish year. "

"That's it. That must be it. Now I wonder who he expects me to have todinner to meet him. There's no use my wiring to Thormanby to come overfor the night. He wouldn't do it. Simply loathes the name of Torrington. Besides, I don't suppose Thormanby is the kind of man he wants to meet. He'd probably rather hear Brannigan or some one of that sort talkingdamned Nationalism. But I can't ask Brannigan, really can't, you know, Frank. I might have O'Hara, that's the doctor. I don't suppose my sisterwould mind now. She quite dropped Christian Science as soon as she heardTorrington was coming. But I don't know. O'Hara drinks a bit. "

Sir Lucius sat much longer than usual in the dining-room. Frank foundhimself yawning with uncontrollable frequency. The long day on the seahad made him very sleepy. He did his best to disguise his condition fromhis uncle, but he felt that his answers to the later questions aboutLord Torrington were vague, and he became more and more confused aboutSir Lucius' views of Woman Suffrage. One thing alone became clear tohim. Sir Lucius was not anxious to join his sister in the drawingroom. Frank entirely shared his feeling. 

But in this twentieth century it is impossible for gentlemen to spendthe whole evening in the dining-room. Wine drinking is no longerrecognised as a valid excuse for the separation of the sexes and tobaccois so universally tolerated that men carry their cigarettes into thedrawingroom on all but the most ceremonial occasions. Sir Lucius rose atlast. 

"It's very hot, " said Frank. "May I sit out for a while on the terrace, Uncle Lucius, before I go into the drawingroom. I'd like a breath offresh air. "

He hobbled out and found a hammock chair not far from the drawingroomwindow. The voices of Miss Lentaigne and his uncle reached him, theone high-pitched and firm, the other, as he imagined, apologetic anddeprecatory. The sound of them, the words being indistinguishable, wassomewhat soothing. Frank felt as the poet Lucretius did when from thesecurity of a sheltered nook on the side of a cliff he watched boatstossing on the sea. The sense of neighbouring strain and struggle addedto the completeness of his own repose. A bed of mignonette scented theair agreeably. Some white roses glimmered faintly in the twilight Faroff, a grey still shadow, lay the bay. Frank's cigarette dropped, halfsmoked, from his fingers. He slept deliciously. 

A few minutes later he woke with a start Priscilla stood over him. Shewas wrapt from her neck to her feet in a pale blue dressing-gown. Herhair hung down her back in a tight plait. On her feet were a pair ofwell worn bedroom slippers. The big toe of her right foot had pushed itsway through the end of one of them. 

"I say, Cousin Frank, are you awake? I've been here for hours, droppingsmall stones on your head, so as to rouse you up. I daren't make anynoise, for they're still jawing away inside and I was afraid they'd hearme. Could you struggle along a bit further away from the window? I'llcarry your chair. "

They found a nook behind the rose-bed which Priscilla held to beperfectly safe. Frank settled down on his chair. Priscilla, with herknees pulled up to her chin, sat on a cushion at his feet. 

"Aunt Juliet hunted me off to bed at half-past nine, " she said. "Dastardly tyranny! And she sent Mrs. Geraghty to do my hair—not thatshe cared if my hair was never done, but so as to make sure that Ireally undressed. Plucky lot of good that was!"

The precaution had evidently been of no use at all; but neither MissLentaigne nor Mrs. Geraghty could have calculated on Priscilla's roamingabout the grounds in her dressing-gown. 

"The reason of the tyranny, " said Priscilla, "was plain enough. AuntJuliet was smoking a cigarette. "

"Good gracious!" said Frank. "I should never have thought your auntsmoked. "

"She doesn't. She never did before, though she may take to it regularlynow for a time. I simply told her that she oughtn't to chew the end. No real smoker does; and I could see that she didn't like the wads oftobacco coming off on her tongue. Besides, it was beastly waste ofthe cigarette. She chawed off quite as much as she smoked. You'd havethought she'd have been obliged to me for giving her the tip, but quitethe contrary. She hoofed me off to bed. "

"But what has made her take to smoking?"

"She had to, " said Priscilla. "I don't think she really likes it, butwith her principles she simply had to. It's part of what's called theeconomic independence of women and she wants to dare the Prime Ministerto put her in gaol. I don't suppose he will, at least not unless shedoes something worse than that; but that's what she hopes. You know, ofcourse, that the Prime Minister is coming tomorrow. "

"It's not the Prime Minister, " said Frank, "only Lord Torrington. "

"That'll be a frightful disappointment to Aunt Juliet after sending downto Brannigan's for those cigarettes. Rose—she's the under housemaid—toldme that. Beastly cigarettes they are, too. Rose said the footman said_he_ wouldn't smoke them. Ten a penny or something like that. But ifLord Torrington isn't the Prime Minister what is Aunt Juliet doing outthe long gallery?"

"Lord Torrington is rather a boss, " said Frank, "though he's not thePrime Minister. He's the head of the War Office. "

Priscilla whistled. 

"Great Scott, " she said, "the head of the War Office! And Aunt Juliethasn't the least idea what's bringing him down here. She said so twice. "

"So did Uncle Lucius. He kept wondering after dinner what on earth LordTorrington wanted. "

"But we know, " said Priscilla. "This is what I call real sport. I haveher jolly well scored off now for sending me to bed. I shouldn't wonderif they made you a knight It's pretty well the least they can do. "

"What are you talking about? I don't know what's bringing him hereunless it's something to do with Home Rule. "

"Who cares about Home Rule? What he's coming for is the spies. Didn'tyou say that this Torrington man is the head of the War Office? Whatwould bring him down here if it isn't German spies? And we're the onlytwo people who know where those spies are. Even we don't quite know; butwe will tomorrow. Just fancy Aunt Juliet's face when we march them uphere in the afternoon, tied hand and foot with the anchor rope, and handthem over to the War Office. We shall be publicly thanked, of course, besides your knighthood, and our names will be in all the papers. Thenif Aunt Juliet dares to tell me ever again to go to bed at half pastnine I shall simply grin like a dog and run about through the city. Shewon't like that. You're quite, sure, Cousin Frank, that it really is theWar Office man who's coming?"

"Uncle Lucius told me it was Lord Torrington, and I know he's the headof the War Office because my father's the under-secretary. "

"That's all right, then. I was just thinking that it would be perfectlyawful if we captured the spies and it turned out that he wasn't the manwho was after them. "

"He may not be after them, " said Frank. "It doesn't seem to me a bitlikely that he is. You see, Priscilla, my father has a lot to do withthe War Office and I know he rather laughs at this spy business. "

"That's probably to disguise his feelings. Spies are always kept deadsecrets and if possible not let into the newspapers. Perhaps even yourfather hasn't been told. He doesn't appear to be head boss, and theymightn't mention it to him. That's what makes it such an absolutelygorgeous scoop for us. We'll get off as early as we can tomorrow. Youcouldn't start before breakfast, could you? The tide will be all right. "

"I could, of course, if you don't mind wheeling me down again in thatbath-chair. "

"Not a little bit I'll get hold of Rose before I go to bed, and tell herto call us. Rose is the only one in the house I can really depend on. She hates Aunt Juliet like poison ever since that time she had the badtooth. We can pick up some biscuits and things at Brannigan's as wepass. There's a good chunk of cold salmon somewhere, for we only atequite a small bit at dinner tonight I'll nail it if I can keep awaketill the cook's in bed, but I don't know can I. This kind of excitementmakes me frightfully sleepy. I suppose it's what's called reaction. Sylvia Courtney had it terribly after the English literature prize exam. It was headaches with her and general snappishness of temper. Sleepinessis worse in some ways, though not so bad for the other people. However, I'll do the best I can, and if we don't get the cold salmon we'll justhave to do without. "

She rose from her cushion, stretched herself and yawned unrestrainedly. Then she rubbed both eyes with her knuckles. 

"Priscilla, " said Frank, "before you go I wish you'd tell me——"

"Yes. What?"

"Do you really believe those two people we saw today are German spies?"

"Do you mean, really and truly in the inmost bottom of my heart?"

"Yes. "

"Well, I don't, of course. It would be too good to be true if they were. But I mean to go on pretending. Don't you?"

"Oh, yes, I'll pretend. I only wanted to know what you thought. "

"All the same, " said Priscilla, "they did rather scoot when they sawwe were after them. Nobody can deny that. That may be because they'repretending, too. I daresay they find it pretty dull being stuck on anisland all day, though, of course, it must be rather jolly cooking yourown food and washing up plates in the sea. Still they may be tired ofthat now, and glad enough to pretend to be German spies with us pursuingthem. It must be just as good sport for them trying to escape as it isfor us trying to catch them. I daresay it's even better, being stalkedunwaveringly by a subtle foe ought to give them a delicious creepyfeeling down the back. Anyhow we'll track them down. We're much betterout of this house tomorrow. It'll be like the tents of Kedar. You andI might be labouring for peace, but everybody else will be making readyfor battle. Aunt Juliet will be out for blood the moment she catchessight of the Prime Minister. Good night, Cousin Frank. "

CHAPTER XI

Rose, the under housemaid, with the recollection of the scientificallyChristian method of treating her toothache fresh in her mind andtherefore stimulated by a strong desire to annoy Miss Lentaigne, woke atfive a. M. At half past five she called Priscilla and knocked at Frank'sdoor. Priscilla was fully dressed ten minutes later. Frank appeared inthe yard at five minutes to six. They started as the stable clock strucksix, Priscilla wheeling the bath-chair. Rose yawning widely, watchedthem from the scullery window. 

Priscilla had failed to seize the cold salmon the night before. Rose, foraging early in the morning, with the fear of the cook before hereyes, had secured nothing but half a loaf of bread and a square sectionof honey. It was therefore something of a disappointment to find thatBrannigan's shop was not open when they reached the quay. No biscuits ortinned meats could be bought. Many adventurers would have been dauntedby the prospect of a long day's work with such slender provision. Itis recorded, for instance, of Julius Caesar, surely the most eminentadventurer of all history, that he hesitated to attempt an expeditionagainst one of the tribes of Gaul "propter inopiam pecuniae, " which mayvery well be translated "on account of a shortage of provisions. "But Julius Caesar, at the period of his greatest conquests, was amiddle-aged man. He had lost the first careless rapture of youth. Frankand Priscilla, because their combined ages only amounted to thirty-twoyears, were more daring than Caesar. With a fine faith in the providencewhich feeds adventurers, they scorned the wisdom which looks dubiouslyat bread and honey. They did not hesitate at all. 

The tide was still rising when they embarked. At that hour in themorning there was no wind and it was necessary to row the _Tortoise_out. Priscilla took both oars herself, remembering the gyrations of theboat the day before when Frank was helping her to row. 

"There'll be a breeze, " she said, "when the tide turns, but we can'tafford to wait here for that. When we're outside the stone perch we'lldrop anchor. But the first thing is to set pursuit at defiance bygetting beyond the reach of the human voice. If we can't hear whoeverhappens to be calling us we can't be expected to turn back and it won'tbe disobedience if we don't. "

The tide, with an hour more of flow behind it, crept along the greyquay wall, and eddied past the buoys. Two hookers lay moored, and faintspirals of smoke rose from the stove chimneys of their forecastles. Thinwreaths of grey mist hung here and there over the still surface of thebay. Patches of purple slime lay unbroken on the unrippled surface. Scraps of shrivelled rack, sucked off the shores of the nearer islands, floated past the _Tortoise_. A cormorant, balanced on the top of oneof the perches outside Delginish, sat with wings outstretched and neckcraned forward, peering out to sea. A fleet of terns floated motionlesson the water beyond the island. Two gulls with lazy flappings of theirwings, flew westwards down the bay. Priscilla, rowing with short, decisive strokes, drove the _Tortoise_ forward. 

"It's going to be blazing hot, " she said, "and altogether splendidlyglorious. I feel rather like a dove that is covered with silver wingsand her feathers like gold. Don't you?"

Frank did. Although he would not have expressed himself in the words ofthe Psalmist, he recognised them. The most reliable tenor in the choirat Haileybury is necessarily familiar with the Psalms. 

They reached the stone perch and cast anchor. It was half past seveno'clock. Priscilla got out the bread and honey. 

"The proper thing to do, " she said, "would be to go on half rations atonce, and serve out the bread by ounces and the honey by teaspoonfuls, but I think we won't. I'm as hungry as any wolf. "

"Besides, " said Frank, "we haven't got a teaspoon. "

"I hope your knife is to the fore. I'm not particular as a rule aboutthe way I eat things, but there's no use beginning the day by making thewhole boat sticky. I loathe stickiness, especially when I happen to siton it, which is one of the reasons which makes me glad I wasn't born abee. They have to, of course, poor things, even the queen, I believe. Itcan't be pleasant. "

The tug of the boat at her anchor rope slackened as the tide reachedits height A light easterly wind came to them from the land. Priscillaswallowed the last morsel of bread and honey as the _Tortoise_ driftedover her anchor and swung round. 

"Perhaps, " she said, "you'd like to practise steering, Cousin Dick. Ifso, creep aft and take the tiller. I'll get the sail on her and haul upthe anchor. "

Frank, humbled by the experience of the day before, was doubtful. Priscilla encouraged him. He took the tiller with nervous joy. Priscillahoisted the lug and then the foresail. 

"Now, " she said, "I'll get up the anchor and we'll try to go off on thestarboard tack. If we don't we'll have to jibe immediately. With thismuch wind it won't matter, but you might not like the sensation. "

Frank did not want to enjoy any sensation of a sudden kind and jibing, as he understood it, was always unexpected. He asked which way he oughtto push the tiller so as to make sure of reaching the starboard tack. Priscilla stood beside the mast and delivered a long, very confusinglecture on the effect of the rudder on the boat and the advantage ofhauling down one or other of the foresail sheets when getting under wayfrom anchor. Frank did not understand much of what she said, but wasashamed to ask for more information. Priscilla, on her knees under theforesail, tugged at the anchor rope. The _Tortoise_ quivered slightly, but did not move. Priscilla, leaning well back, tugged harder. The_Tortoise_—it is impossible to speak of a boat except as a live thingwith a capricious will—shook herself irritably. 

"She's slap over the anchor, " said Priscilla. "I can't think how shegets there for there's plenty of rope out; but there she is and I can'tmove the beastly thing. Perhaps you'll try. You may be stronger than Iam. I expect it has got stuck somehow behind a rock. "

Frank felt confident that he was stronger in the arms than Priscilla. Hecrept forward and put his whole strength into a pull on the anchorrope. The _Tortoise_ twisted herself broadside on to the breeze and thenlisted over to windward. Priscilla looked round her in amazement. The breeze was certainly very light, but it was contrary to her wholeexperience that a boat with sails set should heel over towards the wind. She told Frank to stop pulling. The _Tortoise_ slowly righted herselfand then drifted back to her natural position, head to wind. 

"The only thing I can think of, " said Priscilla, "is that the anchorrope has got round the centreboard. It might. You never can tell exactlywhat an anchor rope will do. However, if it has, we've nothing to do buthaul up the centreboard and clear it. "

She took the centreboard rope and pulled. Frank joined her and they bothpulled. The centreboard remained immovable. The _Tortoise_ was entirelyunaffected by their pulling. 

"Jammed, " said Priscilla. "I feel a jolly sight less like that dovethan I did. It looks rather as if we were going to spend the day here. I don't want to cut the rope and lose the anchor if I can possibly helpit, but of course it may come to that in the end, though even then I'mnot sure that we'll get clear. "

"Can we do nothing?" said Frank. 

"This, " said Priscilla, "is a case for prolonged and cool-headedreasoning. You reason your best and I'll bring all the resources of mymind to bear on the problem!"

She sat down in the bottom of the boat and gazed thoughtfully at thestone perch. Frank, to whom the nature of the problem was obscure, alsogazed at the stone perch, but without much hope of finding inspiration. Priscilla looked round suddenly. 

"We might try poking at it with the blade of an oar, " she said. "I don'tthink it will be much use, but there's no harm trying. "

The poking was a total failure, and Priscilla, reaching far out tothrust the oar well under the keel of the boat, very nearly felloverboard. Frank caught her by the skirt at the last moment and hauledher back. 

"We'll have to sit down and think again, " she said. "By the way, whatwas that word which Euclid said when he suddenly found out how toconstruct an isosceles triangle? He was in his bath at the time, as wellas I recollect. "

A man is not in the lower sixth at Haileybury without possessing a goodworking knowledge of the chief events of classical antiquity. Frank roseto his opportunity. 

"Are you thinking of Archimedes?" he asked. "What he said was 'Eureka'and what he found out wasn't anything about triangles but—"

"Thanks, " said Priscilla. "It doesn't really matter whether it wasEuclid or not and it isn't of the least importance what he found out. It was the word I wanted. Let's agree that whichever of us Eureka'sit first stands up and shouts the word far across the sea. You've noobjection to that, I suppose. The idea may stimulate our imaginations. "

Frank had no objection. He felt tolerably certain that he would nothave to shout. Priscilla, frowning heavily, fixed her eyes on the stoneperch, A few minutes later she spoke again. 

"Once, " she said, "I was riding my bicycle in father's mackintosh, whichnaturally was a little long for me. In process of time the tail of itgot wound round and round the back wheel and I was regularly stuck, couldn't move hand or foot and had to lie on my side with the bicycleon top of me. That seems to me very much the way we are now with thatanchor rope and the centreboard. "

"How did you get out?" said Frank hopefully. 

That Priscilla had got out was evident. If her position on the bicyclewas really analogous to that of the _Tortoise_ the same plan of escapemight perhaps be tried. 

"I lay there, " said Priscilla, "until Peter Walsh happened to come alongthe road. He kind of unwound me. "

A boat, heavily laden, was rowing slowly towards them, making verylittle way against the gathering strength of the ebb tide and theeasterly wind. 

"Perhaps, " said Frank, "the people in that boat, if it ever gets here, will unwind us. "

The boat drew nearer and Priscilla declared that it was Kinsella's. 

"It's Joseph Antony himself rowing her, " she said. "He'd be getting onfaster if he had Jimmy along with him, but I suppose he's off with thesponge lady again. "

Kinsella reached the _Tortoise_ and stopped rowing. 

"You're out for a sail again today, Miss?" he said. "Well, it's fineweather for the likes of you. "

"At the present moment, " said Priscilla, "we're stuck and can't getout. "

"Do you tell me that now? And what's the matter with you?"

"The anchor rope is foul of the centreboard and we can't get either theone or the other of them to move. "

"Begor!" said Joseph Antony. 

"Do you know any way of getting it clear?"

"I do, of course. "

"Well, trot it out. "

"If you was to take the oars, " said Joseph Antony, "and was to row theboat round the way she wasn't going when she twisted the rope on you itwould come untwisted again. "

"It would, of course. Thank you very much. Rather stupid of us not tohave thought of that. It seems quite simple. But that's always the way. The simplest things are far the hardest to think of. Columbus and theegg, for instance. "

She got out the oars as she spoke and began turning the _Tortoise_round. 

"Begging your pardon, Miss, " said Joseph Antony, "but which way is therope twisted round the plate? If you row her round-the wrong way you'lltwist it worse than ever. "

But luck favored Priscilla. When the _Tortoise_ had made one circle therope shook itself clear. Joseph Antony, dipping his oars gently in thewater, drew close alongside. 

"I'd be sorry now, " he said, "if it was to Inishbawn you were thinkingof going. Herself and the children is away off. I'd have been afraid toleave them there with myself up at the quay with a load of gravel. "

Priscilla looked at him with a smile of complete scepticism. 

"It's not gravel you have there, " she said. 

"It's a curious thing, " said Joseph Antony in an offended tone, "for youto be saying the like of that and the boat up to the seats with gravelbefore your eyes. "

"I don't deny there's gravel on top, " said Priscilla, "but there'ssomething else underneath. "

Joseph Antony urged his boat further from the _Tortoise_. 

"What do you mean, at all?" he said. 

"I don't know what you've got, " said Priscilla, "but I saw the rim ofsome sort of a wooden tub sticking out of the gravel in the fore part ofthe boat. "

Joseph Antony began to row vigorously towards the quay. Priscilla hailedhim. 

"Tell me this now, " she said, "Why did you take Mrs. Kinsella and thechildren off their island? Was it for fear of the rats?"

Joseph Antony lay on his oars. 

"It was not rats, " he said. "Why would it?"

"Was it for change of air after the fever?"

"Fever! What fever?"

"Was it because there was something on the island that it wouldn't benice for Mrs. Kinsella or any other woman to see?"

"It was because of a young heifer, " said Joseph Antony, "that I wasafter buying at the fair of Rosna-cree ere yesterday, the wickedest oneI ever seen. She had her horn druv through Jimmy's leg and pretty nearlytrampled the life out of the baby before she was an hour on the island. If so be that you want to be scattered about, an arm here and a legthere, as soon as you set foot on the shore you can go to Inish-bawn, you and the young gentleman along with you. But if it's pleasure you'relooking for it would be better for you to go somewhere else for it, thetwo of yez. "

He spoke truculently. It was evident that Priscilla's questioning hadseriously annoyed him. He began to row again while he was speaking andwas out of earshot before Priscilla could reply. She waved her hand tohim gaily. 

The trouble with the anchor rope had delayed the start of the_Tortoise_. It was eleven o'clock before she got under way. Frank hadthe tiller. Priscilla, seated in the fore part of the boat, gave himinstruction in the art of steering. Running before a light breeze makesno high demand upon the helmsman's skill. Frank learned to keep theboat's head steady on her course and realised how small a motion of hishand produced a considerable effect. The time came when the coursehad to be altered. Priscilla, bent above all on discovering the newcamping-ground of the spies, kept in the main channel. There comes aplace where this turns northwards. Frank had to push down the tiller inorder to bring the boat on her new course. He began to understandthe meaning of what he did. The island of Inishrua lay under hislee. Priscilla scanned its slope for the sight of a tent. Frank, nowbeginning to enjoy his position thoroughly, let the boat away, eased offhis sheet and ran down the passage between Inishrua and Knockilaun, thenext island to the northward. Cattle browsed peacefully in the fields. Adog rushed from a cottage door and barked. Two children came down to theshore and gazed at the boat curiously. There was no encampment on eitherisland. 

Frank pressed down the tiller and hauled in his sheet. Priscillainsisted on his working the main sheet himself. He did it awkwardly andslowly, having only one hand and some fingers of the other, which heldthe tiller. Then he had his first experience of the joy of beating asmall boat against the wind. The passage between the islands is narrowand the tacks were necessarily very short. Frank made all the mistakescommon to beginners, sailing at one moment many points off the wind, at the next trying to sail with the luff of his lug and perhaps hisforesail flapping piteously. But he learned how to stay the boat andbecame fascinated in guessing the point on the land which he might hopeto reach at the end of each tack. Priscilla kept him from becoming overproud. She showed him, each time the boat went about, the spot whichwith reasonably good steering he ought to have reached. It was alwaysmany yards to windward. 

At the end of the passage the boat stood on the starboard tack towards asmall round island which lay to the east of Inishrua. 

"That's Inishgorm, " said Priscilla. "I don't see how they can possiblybe there, for there's not a place on it to pitch a tent except theextreme top of the island. But we may as well have a look at it. "

Inishgorm ends on the west in a rocky promontory. The _Tortoise_ passedit and then Frank stayed her again. The next tack brought them into alittle bay with deep, clear water. They stood right on until they werewithin a few yards of the land. Terns, anxious for the safety oftheir chicks, rose with shrill cries, circled round the boat, swoopingsometimes within a few feet of the sail and then soaring again. Theirexcitement died away and their cries got fewer when the boat went aboutand stood away from the island. Priscilla pointed out a long low reefwhich lay under their lee. Round-backed rocks stood clear of the waterat intervals. Elsewhere brown sea wrack was plainly visible just awash. On one of the rocks two seals lay basking in the sun. At the point ofthe reef a curious patch of sharply rippled water marked where two tidesmet A long tack brought the _Tortoise_ clear of the windward end of thereef. Frank paid out the main sheet and let the boat away for anotherrun down a passage between the reef and a series of small flat islands. 

"This, " said Priscilla, "is the likeliest place we've been today. Ishouldn't wonder a bit if we came on them here. "

The navigation seemed to Frank bewilderingly intricate. Small baysopened among the islands. Rocks obtruded themselves in unexpectedplaces. It was never possible to keep a straight course for more than acouple of minutes at a time. Priscilla gave order in quick succession, "Luff her a little, " "Let her away now, " "Hold on as you're going, ""Steady, " "Don't let her away any more. " Now and then she threatened himwith the possibility of a jibe. Frank, becoming accustomed to everythingelse, still dreaded that manoeuvre. 

A loud hail reached them from the narrow mouth of a bay to windwardof them. Priscilla looked round. The hail was repeated. Far up on thenorthern shore of the bay lay a boat, half in, half out of the water. Beyond her stern, knee deep in the water, with kilted skirts, stood awoman shouting wildly and waving a pocket handkerchief. 

"It's the sponge lady, " said Priscilla. "Luff, luff her all you can. We'll go in there and see what she wants. "

The _Tortoise_ slanted up into the wind. Her sails flapped and filledagain. Frank pulled manfully on the sheet There were two short tacks, swift changes of position, slacking and hauling in of sheets. Then Frankfound himself, once more on the starboard tack, standing straight forthe lady who waved and shouted to them. 

"It's a gravelly shore, " said Priscilla. "We'll beach her. Sail her easynow, Cousin Frank, and slack away your main sheet if you find there'stoo much way on her. We don't want to knock a hole in her bottom. Keepher just to windward of Jimmy Kinsella's boat. "

The orders were too numerous and too complicated. Frank could keep hishead on the football field while hostile forwards charged down on him, could run, kick or pass at such a crisis without setting his nervesa-quiver. He lost all power of reasoning when the _Tortoise_ sprangtowards Jimmy Kinsella's boat and the gravelly shore. He had judged withabsolute accuracy the flight of the ball which the Uppingham captaindrove hard and high into the long field. As it left the bat he hadstarted to run, had calculated the curve of its fall, had gauged thepace of his own running, had arrived to receive it in his outstretchedhands. He failed altogether in calculating the speed of the _Tortoise_. He suddenly forgot which way to push the tiller in order to attain theresult he desired. A wild cry from Priscilla confused him more thanever. He was dimly aware of a sudden check in the motion of the boat. He saw Priscilla start up, and then the lady, who a moment before wasstanding in the sea, precipitated herself head first over the bow. At the same moment the _Tortoise_ grounded on the gravel with a sharpgrinding sound. Frank looked about him amazed. Jimmy Kinsella, standingon the shore with his hands in his pockets, spoke slowly. 

"Bedamn, " he said, "but I never seen the like. With the whole of thewide sea for you to choose out of was there no place that would do youexcept just the one place where the lady happened to be standing?"

CHAPTER XII

Priscilla's reproaches were sharper and less broadly philosophic intone. 

"Why didn't you luff when I told you?" she said. "Didn't I say you wereto keep up to windward of Jimmy Kinsella's boat? If you couldn't do thatwhy hadn't you the sense to let out the main sheet? If we hadn't runinto the sponge lady we'd have stripped the copper band off our keel. As it is, I expect she's dead. She hit her head a most frightful crackagainst the mast. "

Miss Rutherford was lying on her stomach across the fore part of thegunwale of the _Tortoise_. Her head was close to the mast She wasgroping about with her hands in the bottom of the boat The lower part ofher body, which was temporarily, owing to her position, the upper part, was outside the boat. Her feet beat the air with futile vigour. Shewriggled convulsively and after a time her legs followed her head andshoulders into the boat. She rose on her knees, very red in the face, agood deal dishevelled, but laughing heartily. 

"I'm not a bit dead, " she said, "but I expect my hair's coming down. "

"It is, " said Priscilla. "I don't believe you have a hairpin left unlessone or two have been driven into your skull. Are you much hurt?"

"Not at all, " said Miss Rutherford. "Is your mast all right? I hit itrather hard. "

Priscilla looked at the mast critically and stroked the part hit by MissRutherford's head to find out if it was bruised or cracked. 

"I'm most awfully sorry, " said Frank. "I don't know how I came to besuch a fool. I lost my head completely. I put the tiller the wrong way. I can't imagine how it all happened. "

"I don't think, " said Miss Rutherford, "that I ever had an invitation toluncheon accepted quite so heartily before. You actually rushed into myarms. "

"Were you inviting us to lunch?" said Priscilla. 

"I've been inviting you at the top of my voice, " said Miss Rutherford, "for nearly a quarter of an hour. I'm so glad you've come in the end. "

"We couldn't hear what you were saying, " said Priscilla. "All we knewwas that you were shouting at us. If we'd known it was an invitation——"

"You couldn't have come any quicker if you'd heard every word, " saidMiss Rutherford. 

"I'm frightfully sorry, " said Frank again. "I can't tell you——"

"If I'd known it was luncheon, " said Priscilla, "I'd have steered myselfand run no risks. We haven't a thing to eat in our boat and I'm gettingweak with hunger. "

Miss Rutherford stepped overboard again. 

"Come on, " she said, "we're going to have the grandest picnic ever was, I went down to the village yesterday evening after I got home and boughtanother tin of Californian peaches. "

"How did you know you'd meet us?" said Priscilla. 

"I hoped for the best. I felt sure I'd meet you tomorrow if I didn'ttoday. I should have dragged the peaches about with me until I did. Nothing would have induced me to open the tin by myself. I've also gottwo kinds of dessicated soup and——

"Penny-packers?" said Priscilla. "I know the look of them, but I neverbought one on account of the difficulty of cooking. I don't believethey'd be a bit good dry. "

"But I've borrowed Professor Wilder's Primus stove, " said MissRutherford, "and I've got two cups and an enamelled mug to drink it outof. "

"We could have managed with the peach tin, " said Priscilla, "after we'dfinished the peaches. I hate luxury. But, of course, it's awfully goodof you to think of the cups. "

"I hesitated about suggesting that we should take turns at the tin, "said Miss Rutherford. "I knew you wouldn't mind, but I wasn't quitesure——"

She glanced at Frank. 

"Oh, he'd have been all right, " said Priscilla. "I'm training him in. "

"I've also got a pound and a half of peppermint creams, " said MissRutherford. 

"My favourite sweet, " said Priscilla. "You got them at Brannigan's, I hope. He keeps a particularly fine kind, very strong. You have adelicious chilly feeling on your tongue when you draw in your breathafter eating them. But Brannigan's is the only place where you get themreally good. "

"I forget the name of the shop, but I think it must have beenBrannigan's. The man advised me to buy them the moment he heard youwere to be of the party. He evidently knew your tastes. Then—I'm almostashamed to confess it after what you said about luxury; but after allyou needn't eat it unless you like——

"What is it?" said Priscilla. "Not milk chocolate, surely. "

"No. A loaf of bread. "

"Oh, bread's all right It'll go capitally with the soup. Frank wasclamouring for bread yesterday, weren't you, Cousin Frank? If there'sany over after the soup we can make it into tipsy cake with the juice ofthe peaches. That's the way tipsy cake is made, except for the sherry, which always rather spoils it, I think, on account of the burny tasteit gives. That and the whipped cream, which, of course, is rather goodthough considered to be unwholesome. But you can't have things like thatout boating. "

"Come on, " said Miss Rutherford, "we'll start the Primus stove, andwhile the water is boiling we'll eat a few of the peppermint creams as_hors d'oeuvres_. "

Priscilla jumped from the bow of the boat to the shore. "JimmyKinsella, " she said, "go and help Mr. Mannix out of the boat. He's gota sprained ankle and can't walk. Then you can take our anchor ashore andshove out the boat. She'll lie off all right if you haul down the jib. Miss Rutherford and I will go and light the Primus stove. I've alwayswanted to see a Primus stove, but I never have except in a Stores Listand then, of course, it wasn't working. "

"Come on, " said Miss Rutherford. "I have it all ready in a shelterednook under the bank at the top of the beach. "

She took Priscilla's hand and began to run across the seaweed towardsthe grass. Half way up Priscilla stopped abruptly and looked round. Jimmy Kinsella had his arm round Frank and was helping him out of theboat. 

"Hullo, Jimmy!" said Priscilla. "I'd better come back and give you ahand. You'll hardly be able to do that job by yourself. "

"I will, of course, " said Jimmy. "Why not?"

"I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't, " said Priscilla, "on account of thehole in your leg. "

"What hole?"

"The hole your father's new heifer made when she drove her horn throughyour leg, " said Priscilla. "I suppose there is a hole. There must be ifthe horn went clean through. It can't have closed up again yet. "

"I don't know, " said Jimmy. "Did ever I meet a young lady as fond of thefunning as yourself, Miss. Many's the time my da did be saying that thelike of Miss Priscilla——"

"Your da, as you call him, " said Priscilla, "says a deal more than hisprayers. "

"Do tell me about the hole in Jimmy's leg, " said Miss Rutherford. "Henever mentioned it to me. "

"Nor wouldn't, " said Priscilla, "because it's like the rats and thespotted fever and the bad smell, or what ever it was he told you. It'ssimply not there. "

Miss Rutherford lit the methylated spirits in the upper part of thePrimus stove. Priscilla pumped up the paraffin with enthusiasm. Thewater was put on to boil. Then Priscilla asked for the packets ofdesiccated soup. 

"I find, " she said, "that it's a capital plan to read the directionsfor use before you actually do the thing, whatever it is. Last term Ispoiled a whole packet of printing paper—photographic, you know—by notdoing that. I read them afterwards and found out exactly where I'd gonewrong, which was interesting, of course, but not much real use. SylviaCourtney rather rubbed it in. That's the sort of girl she is. "

"A most disagreeable sort, " said Miss Rutherford. "I have met some likeher. In fact they're rather common. "

"I wouldn't say disagreeable. In fact I rather love Sylvia Courtney attimes. But she has her faults. We all have, which in some ways is rathera good thing. If there weren't any faults it would be so dull for peoplelike Aunt Juliet. You're not a Ministering Child, I suppose?"

"No. Are you? I expect you must be. "

"I was once. Sylvia Courtney brought me to the meeting. We all had to dosome sewing and afterwards there was tea. I joined, of course. The sub. Was only sixpence, and there was always tea, with cake, though not goodcake. Afterwards I found that I'd sworn a most solemn oath always to doa kind act to some one every day. That's the sort of way you get let inat those meetings. "

"You didn't read the directions for use beforehand that time. "

"No. But in the end it turned out all right. It was just before thehols when it happened, so, of course, Aunt Juliet had to be my principalvictim. I wouldn't do kind acts to Father. He wouldn't understandthem, not being educated up to Ministering Children. But Aunt Juliet isdifferent, for I knew that by far the kindest thing I could do to herwas to have a few faults. So I did and have ever since, though I stoppedbeing a Ministering Child next term and so wriggled out of the swear. "

Frank, leaning on Jimmy Kinsella, came towards them from the boat He wasbent on being particularly polite to Miss Rutherford, feeling that heought to atone for his unfortunate blunder with the boat He took off hiscap and bowed. 

"I hope, " he said, "that you've been successful in catching sponges. "

"I've not got any to-day, " said Miss Rutherford. "I haven't begun tofish for them. The tide isn't low enough yet. How are you getting onwith the spies? Caught any?"

"Oh, " said Frank, "we don't really think they are spies, you know. "

"All the same, " said Priscilla, "the president of the War Office is outafter them. At least we think he must be. We don't see what else he canbe after, nor does Father. "

"Lord Torrington is to arrive at my uncle's house to-day, " said Frank. 

"Then they must be spies, " said Miss Rutherford. "Not that I everdoubted it. "

"That water is pretty near boiling, " said Priscilla, "What aboutdropping in the soup?"

"Which shall we have?" said Miss Rutherford. "There's Mulligatawny andOxtail?"

"Mulligatawny is the hot sort, " said Priscilla, "rather like curry inflavour. I'm not sure that I care much for it. By the way, talking ofhot things, didn't you say you had some peppermint creams?"

Miss Rutherford produced the parcel. Priscilla put two into her mouthand made a little pile of six others beside her on the ground. Franksaid that he would wait for his share till after he had his soup. MissRutherford took one. The desiccated Oxtail soup was emptied into thepot. Priscilla retained the paper in which it had been wrapped. 

"'Boil for twenty minutes, " she read, "'stirring briskly. ' That can't bereally necessary. I've always noticed that these directions for use aretoo precautious. They go in frightfully for being on the safe side. I should say myself that we'd be all right in trying it after fiveminutes. And stirring is rather rot. Things aren't a bit better forbeing fussed over. In fact Father says most things come out better inthe end if they're left alone. 'Add salt to taste, and then serve. ' Itwould have been more sensible to say 'then eat. '" But I suppose serve isa politer word. By the way, have you any salt?"

"Not a grain, " said Miss Rutherford. "I entirely forgot the salt. "

"It's a pity, " said Priscilla, "that we didn't think of putting in somesea water. Potatoes are ripping when boiled in sea water and don't needany salt Peter Walsh told me that once and I expect he knows, I nevertried myself. "

She glanced at the sea as she spoke, feeling that it was, perhaps, nottoo late to add the necessary seasoning in its liquid form. A smallboat, under a patched lug sail, was crossing the mouth of the bay at themoment. Priscilla sprang to her feet excitedly. 

"That's Flanagan's old boat, " she said. "I'd know it a mile off. Jimmy!Jimmy Kinsella!"

Jimmy was securing the anchor of the _Tortoise_. He looked round. 

"Isn't that Flanagan's old boat?" said Priscilla. 

"It is, Miss, surely. There's ne'er another boat in the bay but herselfwith the bit of an old flour sack sewed on along the leach of the sail. It was only last week my da was saying——"

"We haven't a moment to lose, " said Priscilla. "Miss Rutherford, youhelp Frank down. I'll run on and get up the foresail. "

"But the soup?" said Miss Rutherford, "and the peppermint creams, andthe rest of the luncheon?"

"If you feel that you can spare the peppermint creams, " said Priscilla, "we'll take them. But we can't wait for the soup. "

"Take the bread, too, " said Miss Rutherford, "and the peaches. It won'tdelay you a minute to put in the peaches!"

"If you're perfectly certain you don't want them for yourself, we'll bevery glad to have them. "

"Nothing would induce me to eat a Californian peach in selfishsolitude, " said Miss Rutherford, "I should choke if I tried. "

"Right, " said Priscilla. "You carry them down and sling them on board. I'll help Frank. Now, then, Cousin Frank, do stand up. I can't drag youdown over the seaweed on your side. You've got to hop more or less. "

Miss Rutherford, with the loaf of bread, the peaches and the peppermintcreams in her hand, ran down to the boat. Frank and Priscilla followedher. Jimmy had put the anchor on board and was holding the _Tortoise_with her bow against the shingle. 

"Take me, too, " said Miss Rutherford. "I love chasing spies more thananything else in the world. "

"All right, " said Priscilla. "Bound in and get down to the stern. Now, Frank, you're next. Oh, do go on. Jimmy, give him a lift from behind. I'll steer this time. "

She hauled on the foresail halyard, got the sail up and made the ropefast. Then she sprang to the stern, squeezed past Miss Rutherford andtook the tiller. 

"Shove her off, Jimmy, wade in a bit and push her head round. I'll gooff on the starboard tack and not have to jibe. Oh, Miss Rutherford, don't, please don't sit on the main sheet. "

The business of getting a boat, which is lying head to wind to pay offand sail away, is comparatively simple. The fact that the shore liesa few yards to windward does not complicate the matter much. The mainsheet must be allowed to run out so that the sail does not draw atfirst. The foresail, its sheet being hauled down, works the boat's headround. Unfortunately for Priscilla, her main sheet would not runout Miss Rutherford made frantic efforts not to sit on it, but onlysucceeded in involving herself in a serious tangle. Jimmy Kinsellapushed the boat's head round. Both sails filled with wind. Priscillaheld the tiller across the boat without effect The _Tortoise_ heeledover, and with a graceful swerve sailed up to the shore again. 

"Oh bother!" said Priscilla, "shove her off again, Jimmy. Wade in withher and push her head right round. Thank goodness I have the main sheetclear now. "

This time the _Tortoise_ swung round and headed for the entrance of thebay. 

"Jimmy, " shouted Miss Rutherford, "there's some soup in the pot. Go andeat it Afterwards you'd better come on in your boat and see what happensto us. "

"There's no necessity for any excitement, " said Priscilla. "Leteverybody keep quite calm. We are bound to catch them. "

The _Tortoise_ swung round the rocks at the mouth of the bay. Flanagan'sold boat was seen a quarter of a mile ahead, running towards a passagewhich seemed absolutely blocked with rocks. The _Tortoise_ began tooverhaul her rapidly. 

"I almost wish, " said Miss Rutherford, "that you'd allowed Frank tosteer. When we're out for an adventure we ought to be as adventurous aspossible. "

"They're trying the passage through Craggeen, " said Priscilla, with hereyes on Flanagan's old boat "That shows they're pretty desperate. Handme the peppermint creams. There's jolly little water there at this timeof the tide. It'll be sheer luck if they get through. "

"Take five or six peppermints, " said Miss Rutherford, "if you feel thatthey'll steady your nerves. You'll want something of the sort I feelthrills down to the tips of my fingers. "

Flanagan's old boat ran on. Seen from the _Tortoise_ she seemed topass through an unbroken line of rocks. She twisted and turned nowsouthwards, now west, now northwards. The _Tortoise_ sped after her. 

"Now, Cousin Frank, " said Priscilla, "get hold of the centreboard ropeand haul when I tell you. There'll be barely water to float us, ifthere's that. We'll never get through with the centreboard down. "

She headed the boat straight for a gravelly spit of land past whichthe tide swept in a rapid stream. A narrow passage opened suddenly. Priscilla put the tiller down and the _Tortoise_ swept through. A massof floating seaweed met them. The _Tortoise_ fell off from the wind andslipped inside it. A heavy bump followed. 

"Up centreboard, " said Priscilla. "I knew it was shallow. "

Frank pulled vigorously. Another bump followed. 

"Bother!" said Priscilla. "We're done now. "

The _Tortoise_ swept up into the wind Her sails flapped helplessly. 

"What's the matter?" said Miss Rutherford. 

"Rudder's gone, " said Priscilla. "That last bump unshipped it. "

She held the useless tiller in her hand. The rudder, swept forward bythe tide, drifted away until it went ashore on a reef at the northernend of the passage. The _Tortoise_, after making one or two ineffectiveefforts to sail without a rudder, grounded on the beach of CraggeenIsland. Priscilla jumped out. 

"Just you two sit where you are, " said said, "and don't let the boatdrift. I'll run on to the point of the island and see where those spiesare going to. Then we'll get the rudder again and be after them. "

"Frank, " said Miss Rutherford, when Priscilla had disappeared, "have youany idea how we are to keep the boat from drifting?"

"There's the anchor, " said Frank. 

"I don't trust that anchor a bit It's such a small one, and the boatseems to me to be in a particularly lively mood. "

The _Tortoise_, her bow pressed against the gravel, appeared to bemaking efforts to force her way through the island. Every now and then, as if irritated by failure, she leaned heavily over to one side. 

"I think, " said Miss Rutherford, "I'll stand in the water and hold hertill Priscilla comes back. It's not deep. "

Frank's sense of chivalry would not allow him to sit dry in the boatwhile a lady was standing up to her ankles in water beside him. Hestruggled overboard and stood on one leg holding on to the gunwale ofthe _Tortoise_. Priscilla was to be seen on the point of the islandwatching Flanagan's old boat. 

"Let's eat some peppermint creams, " said Miss Rutherford. "They'll keepus warm. "

"I'm awfully sorry about all this, " said Frank. "I don't know whatyou'll think of us. First I run into you and then Priscilla wrecks youon this island. "

"I'm enjoying myself thoroughly, " said Miss Rutherford. "I wonder whatwill happen next. We can't go on without a rudder, can we?"

"She'll get it back. It's quite near us. "

"So it is. I see it bobbing up and down against the rocks there. I thinkI'll go after it myself. It will be a pleasant surprise for Priscillawhen she comes back to find that we've got it. Do you think you can holdthe boat by yourself? She seems quieter than she was. "

Miss Rutherford waded round the stern of the _Tortoise_ and set offtowards the rudder. The water was not deep in any part of the channel, but there were holes here and there. When Miss Rutherford stepped intothem she stood in water up to her knees. There were also slipperystones and once she staggered and very nearly fell. She saved herselfby plunging one arm elbow deep in front of her. She hesitated and lookedround. 

"Thank goodness, " she said, "here's Jimmy Kinsella coming in the otherboat. He'll get the rudder. "

CHAPTER XIII

Beyond the rock-strewn passage of Craggeen lies the wide roadstead ofFinilaun. Here the water is deep, and the shelter, from every quarter, almost complete. Across the western end of it stretches like a bent bow, the long island of Finilaun. On the south, reaching almost to the pointof Finilaun, is Craggeen, and between the two is a shallow strait. Onthe east is the mainland, broken and bitten into with long creeks andbays. On the north lies a chain of islands, Ilaunure, Curraunbeg andCurraunmor, separated from each other by narrow channels, through whichthe tide runs strongly in and out of the roadstead. 

Across the open roadstead Flanagan's old boat crept under her patchedlug sail. Priscilla, standing on the shore of Craggeen, watched eagerly. At first she could see the occupants of the boat quite plainly, a man atthe tiller, a woman sitting forward near the mast. She had no difficultyin recognising them. The man wore the white sweater which had attractedher attention when she first saw him, a garment most unusual amongboatmen in Rosnacree Bay. The woman was the same who had mopped herdripping companion with a pocket handkerchief on Inishark. They talkedeagerly together. Now and then the man turned and looked back atCraggeen. The woman pointed something out to him. Priscilla understood. 

They could see the patch of the _Tortoise_'s sail above the rockswhich blocked the entrance of the passage. They were no doubt wonderinganxiously whether they were still pursued. Flanagan's old boat, her sailbellied pleasantly by the following wind, drew further and further away. Priscilla could no longer distinguish the figures of the man and woman. She watched the sail. It was evident that the boat was making for one ofthe three northern islands. Soon it was clear that her destinationwas the eastern end of Curraunbeg. Either she meant to run through thepassage between that island and Curraunmor, or the spies would land onCurraunbeg. The day was clear and bright. Priscilla's eyes weregood. She saw on the eastern shore of Curraunbeg a white patch, distinguishable against the green background of the field. It could benothing else but the tents of the spies' encampment. Flanagan's old boatslipped round the corner of the island and disappeared. Priscilla wassatisfied. She knew where the spies had settled down. 

She returned to the _Tortoise_. Frank had left the boat and was sittingon the shore. Miss Rutherford, with the recovered rudder on her knees, sat beside him. Jimmy Kinsella was standing in front of them apparentlydelivering a speech. The two boats lay side by side close to the shore. 

"What's Jimmy jawing about?" said Priscilla. 

"I'm after telling the lady, " said Jimmy, "that you'll sail no moretoday. "

"Will I not? And why?"

"You will not, " said Jimmy, "because the rudder iron is broke on you. "

"That's the worst of these boats, " said Priscilla. "The rudder sticksdown six inches below the bottom of them and if there happens to bea rock anywhere in the neighborhood it's the rudder that it's sure tohit. "

"You'll excuse me saying so, Miss, but you'd no right to be trying toget through Craggeen at this time of the tide. It couldn't be done. "

"It could, " said Priscilla, "and, what's more, it would, only for thatold rudder. "

"Any way, " said Jimmy; "you'll sail no more today, and it'll be luckyif you sail tomorrow for you'll have to give that rudder to Patsy, thesmith, to put a new iron on it and that same Patsy isn't one that likesdoing anything in a hurry. "

"I'm going on to Curraunbeg, " said Priscilla, "I'll steer with an oar. "

"Is it steer with an oar, Miss?"

"Haven't you often done it yourself, Jimmy?"

"Not that one, " said Jimmy, pointing to the _Tortoise_. 

"Sure my da's said to me many's the time how that one is pretty near asgiddy as yourself. "

"Your da talks too much, " said Priscilla. "Come on, Cousin Frank. Whatabout you, Miss Rutherford? Are you coming?"

"You'll not go, " said Jimmy, "or if you do, you'll walk. "

Priscilla looked out at the sea. The tide was falling rapidly. Throughthe opening of the passage which led into Finilaun roadstead there wasno more than a trickle of water running like a brook over the stonybottom. 

"It'll be as much as you'll do this minute, " said Jimmy, "to get backthe way you came, and you'll only do that same by taking the sails offof her and poling her along with an oar. "

Priscilla surrendered. It is, after all, impossible to sail a boatwithout water. The _Tortoise_ lay afloat in a pool, but the Finilaun endof the passage was hardly better than a lane-way of wet stones. At theother end there was still high water, but very little of it Priscillaacted promptly in the emergency. She had no desire to lie imprisoned forhours on Craggeen, she had lain the day before on the bank off Inishark. She took the sails off the _Tortoise_ and, standing on the thwartamidships, began poling the boat back into the open water at thesouth-eastern end of the passage. Jimmy, also poling, followed in hisboat. 

Miss Rutherford, the broken rudder still on her knees, and Frank, wereleft on shore. 

"Do you think, " she said, "that Priscilla intends to maroon us here?She's gone without us. "

"I'm awfully sorry, " said Franks "It's not my fault. I couldn't stopher. "

"She's got all the food there is, even the peppermint creams. I wish I'dthought of snatching that parcel from the boat before she started. She'dhave come back when she found out they were gone. I wonder whether Jimmyfinished the soup? I wonder what he's done with the Primus stove. Itwasn't mine, and I know Professor Wilder sets a value on it. Perhapsthey'll pick it up on their way and return it. If they do I shan't somuch mind what happens to us. "

"I don't think they'll really leave us here, " said Frank. "EvenPriscilla wouldn't do that. I wish I could walk down to the corner ofthe island and see where they've gone. "

Jimmy Kinsella appeared, strolling quietly along the shore. 

"The young lady says, Miss, " he said "that if you wouldn't mind walkingdown to the far side of the gravel spit, which is where she has theboats, she'd be glad, for she wouldn't like to be eating what's in theboat without you'd be there to have some yourself. "

"Priscilla is perfectly splendid, " said Miss Rutherford, "and we're notgoing to be marooned after all, Come along, Frank. "

"The young lady says, Miss, " said Jimmy, "that if you'd go to her thebest way you can by yourself that I'd give my arm to the gentleman andget him along over the stones so as not to hurt his leg and that samewon't be easy for the shore's mortal rough. "

Miss Rutherford refused to desert Frank. She recognised that the shorewas all that Jimmy said it was. Large slippery boulders were strewedabout it for fifty yards or so between the place where she stood and thegravel spit. She insisted on helping Jimmy to transport Frank. In theend they descended upon Priscilla, all three abreast. Frank, with onearm round Jimmy's neck and one round Miss Rutherford's, hobbled bravely. 

"I don't know, " said Priscilla, "that this is exactly an ideal placefor luncheon, but we can have it here if you like, and in some ways I'mrather inclined to. You never know what may happen if you put thingsoff. Last time the but was snatched out of our mouths by a callousdestiny just as it was beginning to smell really good. By the way, Jimmy, what did you do with the soup?"

"It's there beyond, Miss, where you left it. "

"I expect it's all boiled away by this time, " said Priscilla, "but ofcourse the Primus stove may have gone out You never know beforehand howthose patent machines will act. If it has gone out the soup will be allright, though coldish. Perhaps we'd better go back there. "

"Which would you like to do yourself, Priscilla, " said Miss Rutherford. 

"Now that those spies have escaped us again, " said Priscilla, "itdoesn't matter to me in the least where we go. But this place is a bitstony for sitting in for long. I'm beginning to feel already rather asif a plougher had ploughed upon my back and made large furrows; butof course I'm thinking principally of Frank on account of his sprainedankle. A grassy couch would be much pleasanter for him, and there isgrass where we left the Primus stove. We can row; back. It isn't a verylong pull. "

"The wind's dropped, Miss, with the fall of the tide, " said Jimmy, "andwhat's left of it has gone round to the southward. "

"That settles it, " said Priscilla. "Frank, you and Miss Rutherford, goin the _Tortoise_. Jimmy and I will row the other boat and tow you. "

"I can row all right, " said Frank. 

To be treated as incapable by Priscilla when they were alone togetherwas unpleasant but tolerable. To be held up as an object of scorn toMiss Rutherford was not tolerable. He had already exposed himself to hercontempt by running her down. He was anxious to show her that he was notaltogether a fool in a boat. 

"You can't, much, " said Priscilla. "At least you didn't seem as if youcould yesterday; but if you like you can try. We'll take the oars out ofthe _Tortoise_ into your boat, Jimmy, and pull four. "

"I don't see how that could be, Miss, for there's only three seats in myboat along with the one in the stern and you couldn't row from that. "

"Don't be a fool, Jimmy. I'll pull two oars in the middle. Frank willtake one in the bow, and you'll pull stroke. Miss Rutherford will havethe _Tortoise_ all to herself. "

Frank found it comparatively easy to row in Jimmy Kinsella's boat. Theoar was short and stumpy with a very narrow blade. It was worked betweentwo thole pins of which one was cracked and required tender treatment. It was impossible to pull comfortably while sitting in the middle ofthe seat; he still hit Priscilla in the back when he swung forward; butthere was no boom to hit him and there was no mast behind him to bumphis own back against Priscilla was too fully occupied managing her owntwo oars to pay much attention to him. Jimmy Kinsella pulled away withdogged indifference to what any one else was doing. Miss Rutherford satin the stern of the _Tortoise_ and shouted encouraging remarks from timeto time. She had, apparently, boated on the Thames at some time in herlife, for she was mistress of a good deal of rowing slang which she usedwith vigour and effect. It cheered Frank greatly to hear the moreor less familiar words, for he realised almost at once that neitherPriscilla nor Jimmy Kinsella understood them. He felt a warm affectionfor Miss Rutherford rise in his heart when she told Jimmy, who sathumped up over his oar, to keep his back flat. Jimmy merely smiled inreply. He had known since he was two years old that the flatness orroundness of the rower's back has nothing whatever to do with theprogress of a boat in Rosnacree Bay. A few minutes later she accusedPriscilla of "bucketing, " and Frank loved her for the word. Priscillareplied indignantly with an obvious misapprehension of Miss Rutherford'smeaning. Frank, who was rowing in his best style, smiled and was pleasedto catch sight of an answering smile on Miss Rutherford's lips. He hadestablished an understanding with her. She and he, as representatives ofthe rowing of a higher civilisation, could afford to smile together overthe barbarous methods of Priscilla and Jimmy Kinsella. 

The tide was still against them, though the full strength of the ebbwas past. The stream which ran through the narrow water-way had to bereckoned with. 

The _Tortoise_, when being towed, behaved after the manner of her kind. She hung heavily on the tow rope for a minute; then rushed forward as ifshe wished to bump the stern of Jimmy's boat At the last moment sheused to change her mind and swoop off to the right or left, only to bebrought up short by the rope at which she tugged with angry jerks until, finding that it really could not be broken, she dropped sulkily astern. These manoeuvres, though repeated with every possible variation, leftPriscilla and Jimmy Kinsella entirely unmoved. They pulled with the samestolid indifference whatever pranks the _Tortoise_ played. They annoyedFrank. Sometimes when the tow rope hung slack in the water, he pulledthrough his stroke with ease and comfort Sometimes when the _Tortoise_hung back heavily he seemed to be pulling against an impossible deadweight But his worst experience came when the _Tortoise_ altered hertactics in the middle of one of his strokes. Then, if it happened thatshe sulked suddenly, he was brought up short with a jerk that jarred hisspine. If, on the other; hand, she chose to rush forward when he hadhis weight well on the end of his oar, he ran a serious risk of fallingbackwards after the manner of beginners who catch crabs. The side swoopsof the _Tortoise_ were equally trying. They seemed to Frank to disturbhopelessly the whole rhythm of the rowing. Nothing but the encouragementwhich came to him from Miss Rutherford's esoteric slang kept him fromlosing his temper. He could not have been greatly blamed if he had lostit. It was after three o'clock. He had breakfasted, meagrely, on breadand honey, at half past seven. He had spent the intervening seven and ahalf hours on the sea, eating nothing but the one peppermit cream whichMiss Rutherford pressed on him while he held the _Tortoise_ at Craggeen. Priscilla had eaten a great many peppermint cream and was besides moreinured to starvation on the water of the bay than Frank was. But evenPriscilla, when the excitement of getting away from Craggeen had passed, seemed slightly depressed. She scarcely spoke at all, and whenshe replied to Miss Rutherford's accusation of "bucketing" did soincisively. 

The boats turned into the bay from which Miss Rutherford had firsthailed the _Tortoise_. They were safely beached. Priscilla ran up to thenook under the hill where the Primus stove was left Miss Rutherford andJimmy stayed to help Frank. 

"It's all right, " shouted Priscilla. "A good deal has boiled away, butthe Primus stove evidently went out in time to prevent the bottom beingboiled out of the pot. Want of paraffin, I expect. "

"Never mind, " said Miss Rutherford, "I have some more in a bottle. Wecan boil it up again. "

"It's hardly worth while, " said Priscilla. "I expect it would be quitegood cold, what's left of it. Thickish of course, but nourishing. "

"We'll make a second brew, " said Miss Rutherford. "I have anotherpackage. Jimmy, do you know if there's any water in this neighbourhood?"

"There's a well beyond, " said Jimmy, "at the end of the field across thehill, but I don't would the likes of yez drink the water that does be init. "

"Saltish?" said Priscilla. 

"It is not then. But the cattle does be drinking out of it and Iwouldn't say it was too clean. "

"If we boil it, " said Frank, "that won't matter. "

He had read, as most of us did at the time, accounts of the precautionstaken by the Japanese doctors during the war with Russia to save thesoldiers under their care from enteric fever. He believed that boilingremoved dirt from water. 

"There's worms in it, " said Jimmy. "It's hardly ever you take a cupfulout of it without you'd feel the worms on your tongue and you drinkingit. "

Miss Rutherford looked at Priscilla, who appeared undismayed at theprospect of swallowing worms. Then she looked at Frank. He was evidentlydoubtful. His faith in boiling did not save him from a certain shrinkingfrom wormy soup. 

"Once we were out for a picnic, " said Priscilla, "and when we'd finishedtea we found a frog, dead, of course, in the bottom of the kettle. Ithadn't flavoured the tea in the least In fact we didn't know it wasthere till afterwards. "

She poured out the cold soup into the two cups and the enamelled mug asshe spoke. Then she handed the pot to Jimmy. 

"Run now, " she said, "and fill that up with your dirty water. We'llhave the stove lit and the other packet of soup ready by the time you'reback. "

The soup which had not boiled away was very thick indeed. It turned outto be impossible to drink it But Priscilla discovered that it could bepoured out slowly, like clotted cream on pieces of bread held ready forit under the rims of the cups. It remained, spreading gradually, on topof the bread long enough to allow a prompt eater to get the whole thinginto his mouth without allowing any of the soup to be wasted by drippingon to the ground. The flavour: was excellent. 

Jimmy returned with the water. Miss Rutherford put the pot on the stoveat once. It was better, she said, to boil it without looking at it. 

"The directions for use, " said Priscilla, "say that the water should bebrought to the boil before the soup is put in. But that, of course, is ridiculous. We'll put the dry soup in at once and let it simmer. Iexpect the flavour will come out all right if we leave it till it doesboil. "

"In the meanwhile, " said Miss Rutherford, "we'll attack the Californianpeaches. "

They ate them, as they had eaten the others the day before, in theirfingers, straight out of the tin with greedy rapture. Five half peaches, nearly all the juice, and a large chunk of bread, were given to JimmyKinsella, who carried them off and devoured them in privacy behind hisboat. 

"Tomorrow, " said Priscilla, "we'll have another go at the spies. They'redesperately afraid of us. I could see that when they were escapingacross Finilaun harbour. "

"By the expression of their faces?" said Miss Rutherford. 

"Not exactly. It was more the way they were going on. Sylvia Courtneywas once learning off a poem called 'The Ancient Mariner. ' That was whenshe was going in for the prize in English literature. She and I sleep inthe same room and she used to say a few verses of it every night whilewe were doing our hairs. I never thought any of it would come in usefulto me, but it has; which just shows that one never ought to wasteanything. The bit I mean was about a man who walked along a road atnight in fear and dread. He used to look round and then turn no morehis head, because he knew a frightful fiend did close behind him tread. That's exactly what those two spies did today when they were sailingacross Finilaun; so you see poetry is some use after all. I used tothink it wasn't; but it is. It's frightfully silly to make up your mindthat anything in the world is no use. You never can tell until you'vetried and that may not be for years. "

"The spies, " said Miss Rutherford, "are, I suppose, encamped somewhereon the far side of Finilaun harbour. "

"On Curraunbeg, " said Prisdlla. "I saw the tents. "

"I may be going in that direction myself tomorrow, " said MissRutherford. 

Priscilla got up and stepped across to the place where Frank wassitting. She stooped down and whispered to him. Then she returned to herown seat and winked at him, keeping her left eye closed for nearly halfa minute, and screwing up the corresponding corner of her mouth. 

"We hope, " said Frank, "that you'll join us at luncheon tomorrowwherever we may meet. It's our turn to bring the grub. "

"With the greatest pleasure, " said Miss Rutherford. "Shall I bring thestove?"

"I didn't like to invite you, " said Priscilla, "until I found outwhether Frank had any money to buy things with. As it turns out he haslots. I haven't. That's the reason I whispered to him, although I knowit's rude to whisper when there's any one else there. Of course, I maybe able to collar a few things out of the house; but I may not. Withthat Secretary of War staying in the house there is bound to be a lot offood lying about which nobody would notice much if it was gone. Butthen it's not easy to get it unless you happen not to be allowed in todinner, which may be the case. If I'm not—Frank, I'm afraid, is sure tobe on account of his having a dress coat—but if I'm not, which is whatmay happen if Aunt Juliet thinks it would score off me not to, thenI can get lots of things without difficulty because the cook can'tpossibly tell whether they've been finished up in the dining-room ornot. "

"We'll hope for the best, " said Miss Rutherford. "A jelly now or a fewmeringues would certainly be a pleasant variety after the tinned anddried provisions of the last two days. "

The peppermint creams were finished before the second brew of soup cameto the boil on the Primus stove. Priscilla poured it out It was hot, ofabout the consistency usual in soup, and it smelt savoury. NeverthelessMiss Rutherford, after watching for an opportunity to do so unseen, poured hers out on the ground. Frank fingered his mug irresolutely andonce took a sip. Priscilla, after looking at her share intently, carriedit off and gave it to Jimmy Kinsella. 

"It's curious, " she said when she came back, "but I don't feel nearlyso keen on soup as I did. I daresay it's the peaches and the peppermintcreams. I used to think it was rather rot putting off the sweets atdinner until after the meaty things. Now, I know it isn't. Sometimesthere's really a lot of sense in an arrangement which seems silly atfirst, which is one of the things which always makes me say that grownuppeople aren't such fools as you might suppose if you didn't reallyknow. "

"We'll remember that at lunch tomorrow, " said Miss Rutherford. 

No one mentioned worms. 

For the second time the weather, generally malign and irresponsible, favoured Priscilla. With the rising tide a light westerly breeze sprangup. She hoisted the sails and sat in the stern of the boat with an oar. She tucked the middle of it under her armpit, pressed her side tightagainst the gunwale, and with the blade trailing in the water steadiedthe _Tortoise_ on her course. There is a short cut back to Rosnacreequay from the bay in which Miss Rutherford was left. It winds amonga perfect maze of rocks, half covered or bare at low water, graduallybecoming invisible as the tide rises. Priscilla, whose self-confidencewas unshaken by her disaster in Craggeen passage, took this short cutin spite of a half-hearted protest from Frank. "I don't exactly know theway, " she said, "but now that we've lost the rudder there's nothing verymuch can happen to us. We can keep the centreboard up as we're running, and if we do go on a rock, the tide will lift us off again. It's risingnow. Besides, it saves us miles to go this way, and it really won't dofor you to be late for dinner. "

CHAPTER XIV

Thomas Antony Kinsella sat with his legs dangling over the edge of thequay. Beneath him lay his boat. The tide was flowing, but it had not yetfloated her. She was supported on an even keel by the mooring ropes madefast from her bow and stern to bollards on the quay. Her sails andgear lay in confusion on her thwarts. She was still half full of gravelalthough some of her cargo had been shovelled out and lay in a heapbehind Kinsella. He was apparently disinclined to shovel out the rest, an excusable laziness, for the day was very hot. 

With the point of a knife Kinsella scraped the charred ash from the bowlof his pipe. Then he cut several thin slices from a plug of black twisttobacco, rolled them slowly between the palm of one hand and the thumbof the other; spat thoughtfully over the side of the quay into his boat, charged his pipe and put it into his mouth. There he held it for someminutes while he stared glassily at the top of his boat's mast. He spatagain and then drew a match from his waistcoat pocket. 

Sergeant Rafferty of the Royal Irish Constabulary strolled quietly alongthe quay. It was his duty to stroll somewhere every day in orderto intimidate malefactors. He found the quay on the whole a moreinteresting place than any of the country roads round the town, so heoften chose it for the scene of what his official regulations describedas a "patrol. " When he reached Kinsella he stopped. 

"Good day to you, " he said. 

Kinsella, without looking round, struck his match on a stone beside himand lit his pipe. He sucked in three draughts of smoke, spat again andthen acknowledged the sergeant's greeting. 

"It's a fine day, " said the sergeant

"It is, " said Kinsella, "thanks be to God. "

The sergeant stirred the pile of gravel on the quay thoughtfully withhis foot Then, peering over Kinsella's shoulder, he took a look at thegravel which still remained in the boat. 

"Tell me this, now, Joseph Antony, " he said. "Who might that gravelbe for? It's the third day you're after bringing in a load and there'sne'er a cart's been down for it yet?"

"I couldn't say who it might be for. "

"Do you tell me that now? And who's to pay you for it?"

"Sweeny 'll pay for it, " said Kinsella. "It was him ordered it. "

The sergeant stirred the gravel again with his foot Timothy Sweeny was apublican who kept a small shop in one of the back streets of Rosnacree. He was known to the sergeant, but was not regarded with favour. Thereis a way into Sweeny's house through a back-yard which is reached byclimbing a wall. Sweeny's front door was always shut on Sundays andhis shutters were put up during those hours when the law regards theconsumption of alcohol as undesirable. But the sergeant had good reasonto suppose that many thirsty people found their way to the refreshmentthey craved through the back-yard. Sweeny was an object of suspicionand dislike to the sergeant. Therefore he stirred the gravel on thequay again and again looked at the gravel in the boat. There is no lawagainst buying gravel; but it seemed to the sergeant very difficultto believe that Sweeny had bought four boatloads of it. Joseph AntonyKinsella felt that some explanation was due to the sergeant. 

"It's a gentleman up the country, " he said, "that Sweeny's buying thegravel for. I did hear that he's to send it by rail when I have thewhole of it landed. "

He watched the sergeant out of the corners of his eyes to see how hewould receive this statement. The sergeant did not seem to be altogethersatisfied. 

"What are you getting for it?" he asked. 

"Five shillings a load. "

"You're doing well, " said the sergeant. 

"It's good gravel, so it is, the best. "

"It may be good gravel, " said the sergeant, "but the gentleman that'sbuying it will buy it dear if you take the half of every load you bringin home in the evening and fetch it here again the next morning alongwith a little more. "

The sergeant stared at the gravel in the boat as he spoke. His face hadcleared, and the look of suspicion had left his eyes. Sweeny, so hisinstinct told him, must be engaged in some kind of wrongdoing. 

Now he understood what it was. The gentleman up the country was to bedefrauded of half the gravel he paid for. Curiously enough, consideringthat his wrongdoing had been detected, the look of anxiety leftKinsella's face. He sucked at his pipe, found that it had gone out, andslipped it into his waistcoat pocket. 

"If neither Sweeny nor the gentleman is making any complaint, " he said, "it would suit you to keep your mouth shut. "

"I'm not blaming you, " said the sergeant "Sure, anybody'd do the same ifthey got the chance. "

"If there's people in the world, " said Kinsella, "that hasn't senseenough to see that they get what they pay for, oughtn't we to bethankful for it?"

"You're right there, " said the sergeant

Kinsella took out his pipe and lit it again. Sergeant Rafferty afterexamining the sea with attentive scrutiny for some minutes, strolledback towards his barracks. 

Peter Walsh slid off the window sill of Brannigan's shop and took a longlook at the sky. Having satisfied himself that its appearance wasvery much what he expected he walked down the quay to the place whereKinsella was sitting. 

"It's a fine evening, " he said. 

"It is, " said Kinsella, "as fine an evening as you'd see, thanks be toGod. "

Peter Walsh sat down beside his friend and spat into the boat beneathhim. 

"I seen the sergeant talking to you, " he said. 

"That same sergeant has mighty little to do, " said Kinsella. 

"It'll be as well for us if he hasn't more one of these days. "

"What do you mean by that, Peter Walsh?"

"What might he have been talking to you about?"

"Gravel, no less. "

"Asking who it might be for or the like? Would you say, now, JosephAntony, that he was anyways uneasy in his mind?"

"He was uneasy, " said Kinsella, "but he's easy now. "

"Did you tell him who the gravel was for?"

"Is it likely I'd tell him when I didn't know myself? What I told himwas that Timothy Sweeny had the gravel bought off me at five shillings aload and that it was likely he'd be sending it by rail to some gentlemanup the country that would have it ordered from him. "

"And what did he say to that?"

"What he as good as said was that Timothy Sweeny and myself would havethe gentleman cheated out of half the gravel he'd paid for by the timehe'd got the other half. There was a smile on his face like there mightbe on a man, and him after a long drink, when he found out the way wewere getting the better of the gentleman up the country. Believe you me, Peter Walsh, he wouldn't have rested easy in his bed until he did findout, either that or some other thing. "

"That sergeant is as cute as a pet fox, " said Peter Walsh. "You'd behard set to keep anything from him that he wanted to know. "

Kinsella sat for some minutes without speaking. Then he took a matchfrom his pocket and lit his pipe for the third time. 

"I'd be glad, " he said, "if you'd tell me what it was you had in yourmind when you said a minute ago that the sergeant might maybe have moreto do than he'd care for one of these days. "

Peter Walsh looked carefully round him in every direction and satisfiedhimself that there was no one within earshot. 

"Was I telling you, " he said, "about the gentleman, and the lady alongwith him that came in on the train today?"

"You were not. "

"Well, he came, and I'm thinking that he's a high-up man. "

"What about him?"

"The sergeant was sent for up to the big house, " said Peter Walsh, "soonafter the strange gentleman came. I don't know rightly what they wantedwith him. Sweeny was asking Constable Maloney after; but sure the boyknew no more than I did myself. "

"It's a curious thing, " said Kinsella, "so it is, damned curious. "

"Damned, " said Peter Walsh. 

"I wouldn't be sorry if the whole lot of them was drownded one of thesedays. "

"I wouldn't like anything would happen to the young lady. "

"Is it Priscilla? I wasn't meaning her. But any way, Peter Walsh, youknow well the sea wouldn't drown that one. "

"It would not, surely. Why would it?"

"What I had in my mind, " said Kinsella, "was the rest of them. "

He looked sadly at the sky and then out across the sea, which wasperfectly calm. 

"But there'll be no drowning, " he added with a sigh, "while the weatherholds the way it is. "

"There's a feel in the air, " said Peter Walsh hopefully, "like as ifthere might be thunder. "

A small boat, rowed by a boy, stole past them up the harbour. Neither ofthe two men spoke until she reached the slip at the end of the quay. 

"I'd be sorry, " said Kinsella, "if anything would happen to them twothat does be going about in Flanagan's old boat. There's no harm in thembarring the want of sense. "

"It would be as well for them to be kept off Inishbawn for all that. "

"They never offered to set foot on the island, " said Kinsella, "sincethe day I told them that herself and the childer had the fever. The wayit is with them, they wouldn't care where they'd be, one place being thesame to them as another, if they'd be let alone. "

"That's what they will not be, then. "

"On account of Priscilla?"

"Her and the young fellow she has with her. They're out hunting them twothat has Flanagan's old boat the same as it might be some of the boys ata coursing match and the hare in front of them. Such chasing you neverseen! It was up out of their beds they were this morning at six o'clock, when you'd think the likes of them would be asleep. "

"I seen them, " said Kinsella. 

"And the one of them is as bad as the other. You'd be hard put to it tosay whether it was Priscilla has put the comether on the young fellow orhim that had her druv' on to be doing what it would be better for her toleave alone. "

"Tell me this now, Peter Walsh, that young fellow is by the way ofhaving a sore leg on him, so they tell me. Would you say now butthat might be a trick the way it would put us off from suspecting anymischief he might be up to?"

"I was thinking myself, " said Peter, "that he might be imposing on us;but it's my opinion now that the leg's genuine. I followed them up lastnight, unbeknown to them, to see would he get out of the perambulatorwhen he was clear of the town and nobody to notice him. But he kept init and she wheeled him up to the big house every step of the way. "

The evidence was conclusive and carried complete conviction toKinsella's mind. 

"What would be your own opinion, " said Peter Walsh, "about that one thatdoes be going about the bay in your own boat along with Jimmy?"

"I wouldn't say there'd be much harm in her. Jimmy says it's hard totell what she'd be after. He did think at the first go off that it mightbe cockles; but it's not, for he took her to Carribee strand, wherethere's plenty of them, and the devil a one she'd pick up. Nor it'snot periwinkles. Nor dilishk, though they do say that the dilishk isreckoned to be a cure for consumption, and you'd think it might be that. But Jimmy says it's not, for he offered her a bit yesterday and shewouldn't look at it. "

"I don't know what else it could be, " said Peter Walsh. 

"Nor I don't know. But Jimmy says she doesn't speak like one that wouldbe any ways in with the police. "

"She was in Brannigan's last night, buying peppermint drops and everykind of foolishness, the same as she might be a little girleen that wasgiven a penny and her just out of school. "

"If she hasn't more sense at her time of life, " said Kinsella, "shenever will. "

"Seeing it's that sort she is, I wouldn't say we'd any need to be caringwhere she goes so long as it isn't to Inishbawn. "

"She'll not go there, " said Kinsella, "for if she does I'll flay theskin of Jimmy's back with the handle of a hay-rake, and well he knowsit. "

"If I was easy in my mind about the strange gentleman that's up at thebig house——"

"It's a curious thing, so it is, him sending for the sergeant the minutehe came. "

"Bedamn, " said Peter Walsh, "but it is. "

The extreme oddness of the strange gentleman's conduct affected bothmen profoundly. For fully five minutes they sat staring at the sea, motionless, save when one or the other of them thrust his head forwarda little in order to spit. Kinsella at last got out his pipe, probed thetobacco a little with the point of his knife so as to loosen it, pressedit together again with his thumb, and then lit it. 

"I wouldn't mind the sergeant, " he said, "cute and all as he thinkshimself, I wouldn't mind him. It's the strange gentleman I'm thinkingof. "

The _Tortoise_ stole round the end of the quay while he spoke. Kinsellaeyed her. He noticed at once that Priscilla was steering with an oar. Inhis acutely suspicious mood every trifle was a matter for investigation. 

"What's wrong with her, " he said, "that she wouldn't steer with therudder when she has one?"

"It might be, " said Peter Walsh, "that she's lost it. You couldn't tellwhat the likes of her would do. "

"She was in trouble this morning when I seen her, " said Kinsella, "butshe had the rudder then. "

Priscilla hailed them from the boat

"Hullo, Peter!" she shouted. "Go down to the slip and be ready to takethe boat. Have you the bath chair ready?"

"I have, Miss. It's there standing beside the slip where you left itthis morning. Who'd touch the like? What's happened the rudder?"

"Iron's broken, " said Priscilla, "and it must be mended tonight. I say, Kinsella, Jimmy's leg isn't near as bad as you'd think it would be, after having the horn of a wild bull run through it. "

"It wasn't a bull at all, Miss, but a heifer. "

"I don't see that it makes much difference which it was, " saidPriscilla. 

"Do you hear that now?" said Kinsella to his friend in a whisper. "Believe you me, Peter Walsh, it's as good for the whole of us thatshe's not in the police. "

"What's that you're saying?" said Priscilla. 

The boat, though the wind had almost left her sails, drifted up onthe rising tide and was already past the spot where the two men weresitting. Peter Walsh got up and shouted his answer after her. 

"Joseph Antony Kinsella, " he said, "is just after telling me that it'shis belief that you'd make a grand sergeant of police. "

"It's a good job for him that I'm not, " said Priscilla. "For the firstthing I'd do if I was would be to go out and see what it is he has goingon on Inishbawn. "

Peter Walsh, without unduly hurrying himself, arrived at the slip beforethe _Tortoise_. Priscilla stepped ashore and handed him the rudder. 

"Take that to the smith, " she said, "and tell him to put a new iron onit this evening. We'll want it again tomorrow morning. "

"I'll tell him, Miss; but I wouldn't say he'd do it for you. "

"He'd jolly well better, " said Priscilla. 

"That same Patsy the smith, " said Peter Walsh, "has a terrible stronghate in him for doing anything in a hurry whether it's little or big. "

"Just you tell him from me, " said Priscilla, "that if I don't get thatrudder properly settled when I want it tomorrow morning, I'll go out toInishbawn, in spite of your rats and your heifers. "

Peter Walsh's face remained perfectly impassive. Not even in his eyeswas there the smallest expression of surprise or uneasiness. 

"What would be the good of saying the like of that to him?" he said. "It's laughing at me he'd be, for he wouldn't understand what I'd mean. "

"Don't tell me, " said Priscilla. "Whatever villainy there is going onbetween you and Joseph Antony Kinsella, Patsy the smith will be in italong with you. "

Peter Walsh helped Frank into the bath-chair. Priscilla, her facewearing a most determined expression, wheeled him away. 

"That rudder will be ready all right, " she said. 

"But what do you think is going on on the island?" asked Frank. 

"I don't know. "

"Could they be smuggling?"

"They might be smuggling, only I don't see where they'd get anything tosmuggle. Anyway, it's no business of ours so long as we get the rudder. I don't think it's at all a good plan, Cousin Frank, to be always pokingour noses into other people's secrets, when we don't absolutely haveto. "

It occurred to Frank that Priscilla had shown some eagerness in probingthe private affairs of the young couple who had hired Flanagan's boat. He did not, however, feel it necessary to make this obvious retort. 

Peter Walsh, the rudder under his arm, went back to Joseph AntonyKinsella, who was still sitting on the edge of the quay. 

"She says, " he said, "that without there's a new iron on that ruddertomorrow morning, she'll go out to Inishbawn and the young fellow alongwith her. "

"Let Patsy the smith put it on for her, then. "

"Sure he can't. "

"And what's to hinder him?"

"He was drunk an hour ago, " said Peter Walsh, "and he'll be drunkernow. "

"Bedamn then, but you'd better take him down and dip him in the tide, for I'll not have that young fellow with the sore leg on Inishbawn. Ifit was only herself I wouldn't care. "

"I'd be afeard to do it, " said Peter Walsh. 

"Afeard of what?"

"Afeard of Patsy the smith. Sure it's a madman he is when his temper'sriz. "

"Let you come along with me, " said Kinsella, "and I'll wake him up ifit takes the brand of a hot iron to do it. He can be as mad as he likesafter, but he'll put an iron on that rudder before ever he gets leave tokill you or any other man. "

CHAPTER XV

Priscilla wheeled the bath-chair up the hill from the town, chattingcheerfully as she went. 

"It'll be rather exciting, " she said, "to see these Torrington people. Idon't think I've ever come across a regular, full-blown Marquis before. Lord Thormanby is a peer of course, but he doesn't soar to those giddyheights. I suppose he'll sit on us frightfully if we dare to speak. Not that I mean to try. The thing for me to do is to be 'a simple childwhich lightly draws its breath, and feels its life in every limb. 'That's a quotation, Cousin Frank. Wordsworth, I think. Sylvia Courtneysays it's quite too sweet for words. I haven't read the rest of it, so of course, can't say, but I think that bit's rather rot, though Idaresay Lord Torrington will like it all right when I do it for him. "

Frank felt a certain doubt about the policy. Lord Torrington was indeedpretty sure to prefer a simple child to Priscilla in her ordinary mood;but there was a serious risk of her over-doing the part. He warnedPriscilla to be exceedingly careful. She brushed his advice aside withan abrupt change of subject. 

"I expect, " she said, "that Mrs. Geraghty will be up at the house again. Aunt Juliet wouldn't trust anybody else to hook up Lady Torrington'sback. I can do my own, of course; but nobody can who is either fat ordignified. I'm pretty lean, but even I have to wriggle a lot. "

Mrs. Geraghty was up at the house. This became plain to Priscillawhen she reached the gate-lodge. Mr. Geraghty, who was a gardener byprofession, was sitting on his own doorstep with the baby in his arms. The baby, resenting the absence of his mother, was howling. Priscillastopped. 

"If you like, " she said, "I'll wheel the baby up to the house and givehim to Mrs. Geraghty. Aunt Juliet won't like it if I do. In fact she'lldance about with insatiable fury. But it may be the right thing to doall the same. We ought always to do what's right, Mr. Geraghty, even ifother people behave like wild boars; that is to say if we are quite surethat it is right; I think it's nearly sure to be right to give a babyto its mother; though there may be times when it's not. Solomon did, andthat's a pretty good example; though I don't suppose that even Solomonalways knew for certain when he was doing the rightest thing there was. Anyhow, I'll risk it if you like, Mr. Geraghty. You won't mind havingthe baby on your knee for a bit, will you, Cousin Frank?"

Frank did mind very much. The ordinary healthy-minded, normal prefectdislikes having anything to do with babies even more than he dislikesbeing called a child by maiden ladies. 

He looked appealingly at Mr. Geraghty. The baby, misunderstandingPriscilla's intentions, yelled louder than before. 

Mr. Geraghty, fortunately for Frank, was not a man of the heroic kind. Abstract right was less to him than expediency and he missed the pointof the comparison between his position and King Solomon's. He thoughtit better that his baby should suffer than that Miss Lentaigne's angershould be roused. He declined Priscilla's offer. 

Near the upper end of Rosnacree avenue there is a corner from whicha view of the lawn is obtained. Sir Lucius and another gentleman werepacing to and fro on the grass when Priscilla and Frank reached thecorner and caught sight of them. 

"Stop, " said Frank, suddenly. "Turn back, Priscilla. Go round some otherway. "

"Priscilla stopped. The eager excitement of Frank's tone surprised her. 

"Why?" she asked. "It's only father and that Lord of his. We've got toface them some time or other. We may as well get it over at once. "

"That's the beast who shoved me over the steamer's gangway, " said Frank, "and sprained my ankle. "

Sir Lucius and Lord Torrington turned at the end of the lawn and beganto walk towards Priscilla and Frank. 

"Now I can see his face, " said Priscilla, "I don't wonder at your ratherloathing him. I think you were jolly lucky to get off with a sprainedankle. A man with a nose like that would break your arm or stab you inthe back. "

Lord Torrington's nose was fleshy, pitted in places, and of a purplecolour. 

"Curious taste the King must have, " said Priscilla, "to make a man likethat a Marquis. You'd expect he'd choose out fairly good-looking people. But, of course, you can't really tell about kings. I daresay they haveto do quite a lot of things they don't really like, on account of beingconstitutional. Rather poor sport being constitutional, I should say;for the King that is. It's pleasanter, of course, for the other people. "

Frank knew that the present King was blameless in the matter of LordTorrington's marquisate. It was inherited from a great-grandfather, who may have had an ordinary, possibly even a beautiful nose. Buthe attempted no explanation. His anxiety made him disinclined for adiscussion of the advantages of having an hereditary aristocracy. 

"Do turn back, Priscilla, " he said. 

"If he is the man who sprained your ankle, " she said, "it's far betterfor you to have it out with him now when I'm here to back you up. If youput it off till dinner time you'll have to tackle him alone. I'm surenot to be let in. Anyhow, we can't go back now. They've seen us. "

Lord Torrington and Sir Lucius approached them. Frank plucked nervouslyat his tie, unbuttoned and then re-buttoned his coat. He felt that hehad been entirely blameless during the scrimmage on the gangway of thesteamer, but Lord Torrington did not look like a man who would readilyown himself to be in the wrong. 

"Your daughter, Lentaigne?" said Lord Torrington. "H'm, fifteen, yousaid; looks less. Shake hands, little girl. "

Priscilla put out her right hand demurely. Her eyes were fixed on theground. Her lips were slightly parted in a deprecating smile, suggestiveof timid modesty. 

"What's your name?" said Lord Torrington. 

"Priscilla Lentaigne. "

Nothing could have been meeker than the tone in which she spoke. 

"H'm, " said Lord Torrington, "and you're Mannix's boy. Not much likeyour father. At school?"

"Yes, " said Frank. "At Haileybury. "

"What are you doing in that bath-chair with the young lady wheeling you?Is that the kind of manners they teach at Haileybury?"

"Please, " said Priscilla, speaking very gently. "It's not his fault. "

"He has sprained his ankle, " said Sir Lucius. "He can't walk. "

"Oh, " said Lord Torrington. "Sprained ankle, is it?"

He turned and walked back to the lawn. Sir Lucius followed him. 

"Rather a bear, I call him, " said Priscilla. "But, of course, he may beone of those cases of a heart of gold inside a rough skin. You can't besure. We did 'As You Like It' last Christmas—dramatic club, you know—andSylvia Courtney had a bit to say about a toad ugly and venomous whichyet wears a precious jewel in his head. I'd say he's just the opposite. If there is a precious jewel—and there may be—it's not in his head. Anyhow one great comfort is that he doesn't remember spraining yourankle. "

Frank, who recollected Lord Torrington with disagreeable distinctness, did not find any great comfort in being totally forgotten. He would haveliked, though he scarcely expected, some expression of regret that theaccident had occurred. 

"It'll be all the easier, " said Priscilla, "to pay him back if he hasn'tany suspicion that we have an undying vendetta against him. I ratherlike vendettas, don't you? There's something rather noble in the idea ofpursuing a man with implacable vengeance from generation to generation. "

"I don't quite see, " said Frank, "what good a vendetta is. We can't doanything while he's in your father's house. It wouldn't be right. "

"All the same, " said Priscilla, "well score off him. For the immediatepresent we've got to wait and watch his every movement with glitteringeyes and cynical smiles concealed behind our ingenuous brows. Youneedn't say 'ingenuous' isn't a real word, because it is. I put it in anEnglish comp. Last term and got full marks, which shows that it must bea good word. "

Priscilla was right in supposing that she would not be allowed to dinein the dining-room. Frank faced the banquet without her support. It wasnot a very pleasant meal for him. Lady Torrington shook hands with himand asked him whether he were the boy whom she had heard reciting aprize poem on the last Speech Day at Winchester. Frank told her that hewas at Haileybury. 

"I thought it might have been you, " said Lady Torrington, "because Iseem to remember your face. I must have seen you somewhere, I suppose. "

She took no further notice of him during dinner. Lord Torrington took nonotice of him at all. The dinner was long and, in spite of the fact thathe had a good appetite, Frank did not enjoy himself. He was extremelyglad when Lady Torrington and Miss Lentaigne left the dining-room. Hewas casting about for a convenient excuse for escape when Sir Luciusspoke to him. 

"You and Priscilla were out on the bay all day, I suppose?"

"Yes, " said Frank, "we started early and sailed about. "

"I daresay you'll be able to give us some information then, " saidSir Lucius. "Shall I ask him a few questions, Torrington? The policesergeant said——"

"The police sergeant is a damned fool, " said Lord Torrington. "She can'tbe going about in a boat. She doesn't know how to row. "

"Frank, " said Sir Lucius, "did you and Priscilla happen to see anythingof a young lady——"

"You may just as well tell him the story, " said Lord Torrington. "It'llbe in the papers in a day or two if we can't find her. "

"Very well, Torrington. Just as you like. The fact is, Frank, that LordTorrington is here looking for his daughter, who has——well, a week agoshe disappeared. "

"Disappeared!" said Lord Torrington. "Why not say bolted?"

"Ran away from home, " said Sir Lucius. 

"According to your aunt——" said Lord Torrington. 

"She's not my aunt, " said Frank. 

"Oh, isn't she?" Lord Torrington's tone suggested that this was adistinct advantage to Frank. "According to Miss Lentaigne then, the girlhas asserted her right to live her own life untrammelled by the fettersof conventionality. That's the way she put it, isn't it, Lentaigne?"

"Lady Isabel, " said Sir Lucius, "came over to Ireland. We know that. "

"Booked her luggage in advance from Euston, " said Lord Torrington, "under another name. I had a detective on the job, and he worried thatout. Women are all going mad nowadays; though I had no notion Isabelwent in for—well, the kind of thing your sister talks, Lentaigne. Ithought she was religious. She used to be perpetually going to church, evensong on the Vigil of St. Euphrosyne, and that kind of thing, butI am told lots of parsons now have taken up these advanced ideas aboutwomen. It may have been in church she heard them. "

"From Dublin, " said Sir Lucius, "she came on here. The policesergeant——"

"Who's a dunderheaded fool, " said Lord Torrington. 

"He says there's a young lady going about the bay for the last two daysin a boat. "

"That's the wrong tack altogether, " said Lord Torrington. "Isabel wouldnever think of going in a boat. I tell you she can't row. "

"Now, Frank, " said Sir Lucius, "did you see or hear anything of her?"

Frank would have liked very much to deny that he had seen any lady. Hisdislike of Lord Torrington was strong in him. He had been snubbed inthe train, injured while leaving the steamer, and actually insultedthat very afternoon. He felt, besides, the strongest sympathy with anydaughter who ran away from a home ruled by Lord and Lady Torrington. Buthe had been asked a straight question and it was not in him to tell alie deliberately. 

"We did meet a lady, " he said, "in fact we lunched with her today, buther name was Rutherford. "

"Was she rowing about alone in a boat?" said Lord Torrington. 

"She had a boy to row her, " said Frank. "She'd hired the boat. She saidshe came from the British Museum and was collecting sponges. "

"Sponges!" said Sir Lucius. "How could she collect sponges here, andwhat does the British Museum want sponges for?"

"They weren't exactly sponges, " said Frank, "they were zoophytes. "

"It's just possible, " said Lord Torrington, "that she might—Sponges, yousay? I don't know what would put sponges into her head. But, of course, she had to say something. What was she like to look at?"

"She had a dark blue dress, " said Frank, "and was tallish. "

"Fuzzy fair hair?" said Lord Torrington. 

"I don't remember her hair. "

"Slim?"

"I'd call Miss Rutherford fat, " said Frank. "At least, she's decidedlystout. "

"Not her, " said Lord Torrington. "Nobody could call Isabel fat. Thatpolice sergeant of yours is a fool, Lentaigne. I always said he was. If Isabel is in this neighbourhood at all she's living in some countryinn. "

"The sergeant said he'd make inquiries about the lady he mentioned, "said Sir Lucius. "We shall hear more about her tomorrow. "

"She had a Primus stove with her, " said Frank. 

"That's no help, " said Lord Torrington. "Anybody might have a Primusstove. "

"She said she'd borrowed it from Professor Wilder, " said Frank. 

"Who the devil is Professor Wilder?"

"He's doing the rotifers, " said Frank. "At least Miss Rutherford said hewas. I don't know who he is. "

"That's not Isabel, " said Lord Torrington. "She wouldn't have theintelligence to invent a professor who collected rotifers. I don'tsuppose she ever heard of rotifers. I never did. What are they?"

"Insects, I fancy, " said Sir Lucius. "I daresay Priscilla would know. Shall I send for her?"

"No, " said Lord Torrington. "I don't care what rotifers are. Let'sfinish our cigars outside, Lentaigne. It's infernally hot. "

Frank had finished his cigarette. He had no wish to spend any timebeyond what was absolutely necessary in Lord Torrington's company. Hefelt sure that Lord Torrington would insist on walking briskly up anddown when he got outside. Frank could not walk briskly, even withthe aid of two sticks. He made up his mind to hobble off in searchof Priscilla. He found her, after some painful journeyings, in a mostunlikely place. She was sitting in the long gallery with Lady Torringtonand Miss Lentaigne. The two ladies reclined in easy chairs in frontof an open window. There were several partially smoked cigarettes ina china saucer on the floor beside Miss Lentaigne. Lady Torrington wasfanning herself with a slow motion which reminded Frank of the way inwhich a tiger, caged in a zoological garden, switches its tail afterbeing fed. Priscilla sat in the background under a lamp. She had chosena straight-backed chair which stood opposite a writing table. She satbolt upright in it with her hands folded on her lap and her left footcrossed over her right Her face wore a look of slightly puzzled, but onthe whole intelligent interest; such as a humble dependent might feelwhile submitting to instruction kindly imparted by some very eminentperson. She wore a white frock, trimmed with embroidery, of a perfectlysimple kind. She had a light blue sash round her waist. Her hair, whichwas very sleek, was tied with a light blue ribbon. Round her neck, ona third light blue ribbon, much narrower than either of the other two, hung a tiny gold locket shaped like a heart. She turned as Frankentered the room and met his gaze of astonishment with a look of extremeinnocence. Her eyes made him think for a moment of those of a lamb, apuppy or other young animal which is half-frightened, half-curiousat the happening of something altogether outside of its previousexperience. 

Neither of the ladies at the window took any notice of Frank's entrance. He hobbled across the room and sat down beside Priscilla. She got up atonce and, without looking at him, walked demurely to the chair on whichMiss Lentaigne was sitting. 

"Please, Aunt Juliet, " she said, "may I go to bed? I think it's time. "

Miss Lentaigne looked at her a little doubtfully. She had knownPriscilla for many years and had learned to be particularly suspiciousof meekness. 

"I heard the stable clock strike, " said Priscilla. "It's half-pastnine. "

"Very well, " said Miss Lentaigne. "Good-night. "

Priscilla kissed her aunt lightly on her left cheek bone. Then she heldout her hand to Lady Torrington. 

"You may kiss me, " said the lady. "You seem to be a very quiet wellbehaved little girl. "

Priscilla kissed Lady Torrington and then passed on to Frank. 

"Good-night, Cousin Frank, " she said. "I hope you're not tired afterbeing out in the boat, and I hope your ankle will be better tomorrow. "

Her eyes still had an expression of cherubic innocence; but just as shelet go Frank's hand she winked abruptly. He found as she turned away, that she had left something in his hand. He unfolded a small, muchcrumpled piece of blotting paper, taken, he supposed, by stealth fromthe writing table beside Priscilla's chair. A note was scratched with apoint of a pin on the blotting paper. 

"Come to the shrubbery, ten sharp. Most important. Excuse scratching. Nopencil. "

"Priscilla, " said Lady Torrington, "is a sweet child, very subdued andmodest. "

Frank's attention was arrested by the silvery sweetness of the tonein which she spoke. He had a feeling that she meant to convey to MissLentaigne something more than her words implied. Miss Lentaigne struck amatch noisily and lit another cigarette. 

"She may be a little wanting in animation, " said Lady Torrington, "butthat is a fault which one can forgive nowadays when so many girls runinto the opposite extreme and become self-assertive. "

"Priscilla, " said Miss Lentaigne, "is not always quite so good as shewas this evening. "

"You must be quite pleased that she isn't, " said Lady Torrington, witha deliberate, soft smile. "With your ideas about the independence of oursex I can quite understand that Priscilla, if she were always as quietand gentle as she was this evening, would be trying, very trying. "

Frank became acutely uncomfortable. He had entered the room noisilyenough, hobbling on his two sticks; but neither lady seemed to be awareof his presence. He began to feel as if he were eavesdropping, listeningto a conversation which he was not intended to hear. He hesitated fora moment, wondering whether he ought to say a formal good-night, or getout of the room as quietly as he could without calling attention to hispresence. Miss Lentaigne's next remark decided him. 

"Your own daughter, " she said, "seems to have imbibed some of our moremodern ideas. That must be a trial to you, Lady Torrington. "

Frank got up and made his way out of the room without speaking. 

CHAPTER XVI

To reach the corner of the shrubbery it was necessary to cross the lawn. Lord Torrington and Sir Lucius, having lit fresh cigars, were pacing upand down in earnest conversation. Frank hobbled across their path andreceived a kindly greeting from his uncle. 

"Well, Frank, out for a breath of fresh air before turning in? Sorryyou can't join our march. Lord Torrington is just talking about yourfather. "

"Thanks, Uncle Lucius, " said Frank, "but I can't walk. There's a hammockchair in the corner. I'll sit there for a while and smoke anothercigarette. "

Sir Lucius and Lord Torrington walked briskly, turning each time theyreached the edge of the grass and walking briskly back again. Frankrealised that Priscilla, if she was to keep her appointment, must crosstheir track. He watched anxiously for her appearance. The stable clockstruck ten. In the shadow of the verandah in front of the dining-roomwindow Frank fancied he saw a moving figure. Sir Lucius and LordTorrington crossed the lawn again. Half-way across they were exactlyopposite the dining-room window, A few steps further on and the directline between the window and a corner of the shrubbery lay behind them. Priscilla seized the most favourable moment for her passage. Just as thetwo men reached the point at which their backs were turned to the lineof her crossing she darted forward. Half-way across she seemed to trip, hesitated for a moment and then ran on. Before the walkers reached theirplace of turning she was safe in a laurel bush beside Frank's chair. 

"My shoe, " she whispered. "It came off slap in the middle of the lawn. I always knew those were perfectly beastly shoes. It was Sylvia Courtneymade me buy them, though I told her at the time they'd never stickon, and what good are shoes if they don't Now they are sure to see it;though perhaps they won't If they don't I can make another dart and getit. "

To avoid all risk of the loss of the second shoe Priscilla took it offbefore she started. Lord Torrington and Sir Lucius crossed the lawnagain. It seemed as if one or other of them must tread on the shoe whichlay on their path; but they passed it by. Priscilla seized her chance, rushed to the middle of the lawn and returned again successfully. Thenshe and Frank retreated, for the sake of greater security, into themiddle of the shrubbery. 

"Everything's all right, " said Priscilla. "I've got lots and lots offood stored away. I simply looted the dishes as they were brought out ofthe dining-room. Fried fish, a whole roast duck, three herrings' roeson toast, half a caramel pudding—I squeezed it into an old jam pot—andseveral other things. We can start at any hour we like tomorrow and itwon't in the least matter whether Brannigan's is open or not. What doyou say to 6 a. M. ?"

"I'm not going on the bay tomorrow. "

"You must. Why not?"

"Because I want to score off that old beast who sprained my ankle. "

The prefect in Frank had entirely disappeared. Two days of closecompanionship with Priscilla erased the marks made on his character byfour long years of training at Haileybury. His respect for constitutedauthorities had vanished. The fact that Lord Torrington was Secretaryof State for War did not weigh on him for an instant. He was, as indeedboys ought to be at seventeen years of age, a primitive barbarian. Hewas filled with a desire for revenge on the man who had insulted andinjured him. 

"You don't know, " he said, "what Lord Torrington is here for. "

"Oh, yes, I do, " said Priscilla. "I'm not quite an ass. I was listeningto Aunt Juliet and Lady Torrington shooting barbed arrows at each otherafter dinner. Aunt Juliet got rather the worst of it, I must say. LadyTorrington is one of those people whose garments smell of myrrh, aloesand cassia, and yet whose words are very swords, you know the sort Imean. "

"Lord Torrington is chasing his daughter, " said Frank, "who has run awayfrom home. I vote we find her first and then help her to hide. "

"Of course. That's what we're going to do. That's why we're going off inthe boat tomorrow. "

"But she's not on the bay, " said Frank. "Miss Rutherford is too fat tobe her. He said so. "

"Who's talking about Miss Rutherford? She's simply sponge-hunting. Nobody but a fool would think she was Miss Torrington. "

"Lady Isabel, " said Frank. "He's a marquis. "

"Anyhow she's not the escaped daughter. "

"Then who is?"

"The lady spy, of course. Any one could see that at a glance. "

"But she has a man with her. Lord Torrington said—"

"If you can call that thing a man, " said Priscilla, "she has. That's herhusband. She's run away with him and got married surreptitiously, likeyoung Lochinvar. People do that sort of thing, you know. I can't imaginewhere the fun comes in; but it's quite common, so I suppose it must beconsidered pleasant. Anyhow Sylvia Courtney says that English literatureis simply stock full of most beautiful poems about people who do it; allmore or less true, so there must be some attraction. "

Frank made no reply. Priscilla's theory was new to him. It seemedto have a certain plausibility. He wanted to think it over beforecommitting himself to accepting it. 

"It's not a thing I'd care to do myself, " said Priscilla. "But thenpeople are so different. What strikes me as rather idiotic may besweeter than butter in the mouth to somebody else. You never can tellbeforehand. Anyhow we can count on Aunt Juliet as a firm ally. She can'tgo back on us on account of her principles. "

This was another new idea to Frank. He began to feel slightlybewildered. 

"The one thing she's really keen on just at present, " said Priscilla, "is that women should assert their independence and not be mere tameparasites in gilded cages. That's what she said to Lady Torringtonanyhow. So of course she's bound to help us all she can, so long as shedoesn't know that they're married, and nobody does know that yet exceptyou and me. Not that I'd be inclined to trust Aunt Juliet unless we haveto; but it's a comfort to know she's there if the worst comes to theworst. "

"What do you intend to do?" said Frank. 

"Find them first. If we start off early tomorrow well probably get toCurraunbeg before they're up. My idea would be to hand over the youngman to Miss Rutherford for a day or two. She's sure to be somewhereabout and when she understands the circumstances she won't mindpretending that he, the original spy, I mean, is her husband, just for awhile, until the first rancour of the pursuit has died away. She strikesme as an awfully good sort who won't mind. She may even like it Somepeople love being married. I can't imagine why; but they do. AnyhowI don't expect there'll be any difficulty about that part of theprogramme. We'll simply tranship him, tent and all, into JimmyKinsella's boat. "

"I don't see the good of doing all that, " said Frank. 

"Why not——?"

"The good of it is this. We must keep Aunt Juliet on our side in caseof accidents. She's got a most acute mind and will throw all kinds ofobstacles in the way of the pursuers. As long as she thinks thatMiss Torrington—Lady Isabel, I mean—is really going in for leading abeautiful scarlet kind of life of her own; but if she once finds outthat she's gone and got married to a man, any man, even one who can'tmanage a boat, she'll be keener than any one else to have her draggedback. "

"What do you mean to do with her?" said Frank. 

"We'll plant her down on Inishbawn. That's the safest place in the wholebay for her to be. Of course Joseph Antony Kinsella will object; butwe'll make him see that it's his duty to succor the oppressed, andanyhow we'll land her there and leave her. I don't exactly know what itis that they're doing on that island, though I can guess. But whateverit is you may bet your hat they won't let Lord Torrington or the policeor any one of that kind within a mile of it. If once we get herthere she's safe from her enemies. Every man, woman and child in theneighbourhood will combine to keep that sanctuary—bother! there's a wordwhich exactly expresses what a sanctuary is kept; but I've forgottenwhat it is. I came across it once in a book and looked it out in thedict. To see what it meant. It's used about sanctuaries and secrets. Doyou remember what it is?"

Frank did not give his mind to the question. He was thinking, with somepleasure, of the baffled rage of Lord Torrington when he was not allowedto land on Inishbawn. Lady Isabel would be plainly visible sitting atthe door of her tent on the green slope of the island. Lord Torrington, with violent language bursting from him, would approach the island ina boat, anticipating a triumphant capture. But Joseph Antony Kinsellawould sally like a rover from his anchorage and tow Lord Torrington'sboat off to some distant place. With invincible determination the WarLord would return again. From every inhabited island in the bay wouldissue boats, Flanagan's old one among them. They would surround LordTorrington, hustle and push him away. Children from cottage doors wouldjeer at him. Peter Walsh and Patsy, the drunken smith, would add theirtaunts to the chorus when at last, baffled and despairing, he landed atthe quay. The vision was singularly attractive. Frank ran his hand overhis bandaged ankle and smiled with joy. 

"I know it's used of secrets as well as sanctuaries, " said Priscilla, "because Aunt Juliet used to say it about the Confessional when she wasthinking of being a Roman Catholic. I told you about that, didn't I?"

"No, " said Frank. "But will they be able to stop him landing, really?"

"Of course they will. That was one of the worst times we ever had withAunt Juliet. Father simply hated it, expecting the blow to fall everyday, especially after she took to fasting frightfully hard with finnanhaddocks. That was just after the time she was tremendously down onall religion and wouldn't let him have prayers in the morning, which hedidn't mind as much; though, of course, he pretended. Fortunately shefound out about uric acid just before she actually did the deed, sothat was all right. It always is in the end, you know. That's one ofthe really good points about Aunt Juliet. All the same I wish I couldremember that word. "

"I don't quite see, " said Frank, "how they'll stop him landing onInishbawn if he wants to. "

"Nor do I; but they will. If Peter Walsh and Joseph Antony Kinsella andFlanagan and Patsy the smith—they're all in the game, whatever it is—ifthey determine not to let him land on Inishbawn he won't land there. "

"But even if they keep him off for a day or two they can't for ever. "

"Well, " said Priscilla, "he can't stay here for ever either. There'ssure to be a war soon and then he'll jolly well have to go back toLondon and see after it. You told me it was his business to look afterwars, so of course he must. Now that we've got everything settled I'llsneak off again and get to bed. If I recollect that word during thenight I'll write it down. "

Priscilla, leaving Frank to make his own way back to the house as besthe could, crept through the laurel bushes to the edge of the lawn. LordTorrington and Sir Lucius had gone indoors. She could see them throughthe open window of the long gallery. She stole carefully across the lawnand entered the house by way of the dining-room window. She went veryquietly to her bedroom. Before undressing she opened her wardrobe, lifted out two dresses which lay folded on a shelf and took out thestore of provisions which she had secured at dinner time. She wrapped upthe duck and the fish in paper, nice white paper taken from the bottomsof the drawers in her dressing table. The herrings' roes on toast, originally a savoury, she put in the bottom of the soap dish and tied apiece of paper over the top of it. The caramel pudding rather overflowedthe jam pot. It was impossible to press it down below the level of therim. Priscilla sliced off the bulging excess of it with the handle ofher tooth brush and dropped it into her mouth. Then she tied some paperover the top of the jam pot, and wrote, "pudding" across it with a bluepencil. The remainder of her spoil—some rolls, two artichokes and asweetbread—she wrapped up together. 

Then she undressed and got into bed. Half an hour later she wokesuddenly. Without a moment's hesitation she got out of bed and lit acandle. The blue pencil was still lying on top of the jam pot whichstood on the dressing table. Priscilla took it, and to avoid allpossibility of mistake in the morning, wrote word "inviolable" on everyone of her parcels. 

CHAPTER XVII

It was ten o'clock in the forenoon. Peter Walsh, having breakfasted, strolled down the street towards the quay. When he reached it hesurveyed the boats which lay there with a long, deliberate stare. The_Blue Wanderer_ was at her moorings. The _Tortoise_, with a new iron onher rudder, had gone out at seven o'clock. There were three boats fromthe islands and one large hooker lying at the quay. Peter Walshmade quite sure that there was nothing which called for comment orinvestigation in the appearance of any of these. Then he lit his pipeand took his seat on one of the windows of Brannigan's shop. Four out ofthe six habitués of this meeting place were already seated. Peter Walshmade the fifth. The sixth man had not yet arrived. 

At half past ten Timothy Sweeny left his shop and walked down to thequay. Timothy Sweeny, though not the richest, was the most important manin Rosnacree. His public house was in a back street and the amountof business which he did was insignificant compared to that done byBrannigan. But he was a politician of great influence and had beenmade a Justice of the Peace by a government anxious to popularise theadministration of the law in Ireland. The law itself, as was recognisedon all sides, could not possibly be made to command the respect of anyone; but it was hoped that it might excite less active hostility if itwere modified to suit the public convenience by men like Sweeny who hadsome personal experience of the unpleasantness of the penalties which itordained. 

It was seldom that Timothy Sweeny left his shop. He was a man ofcorpulent figure and flabby muscles. He disliked the smell of fresh airand walking was a trouble to him. The five loafers on Brannigan's windowsills looked at him with some amazement when he approached them. 

"Is Peter Walsh here?" said Sweeny. 

"I am here, " said Peter Walsh. "Where else would I be?"

"I'd be glad, " said Sweeny, "if you'd step up to my house with mefor two minutes the way I could speak to you without the whole townlistening to what we're saying. "

Peter Walsh rose from his seat with quiet dignity and followed Sweeny upthe street. 

"You'll take a sup of porter, " said Sweeny, when they reached the bar ofthe public house. 

Peter finished the half pint which was offered to him at a draught. 

"They tell me, " said Sweeny, "that the police sergeant was up at thebig house again this morning. I don't know if it's true but it's whatthey're after telling me. "

"It is true, " said Peter. "I'll say that much for whoever it was thattold you. It's true enough. The sergeant was off last night after dark. He thinks he's damned smart that sergeant, and it was after dark he wentthe way nobody would see him; but he was seen, for Patsy the smith wason the side of the road, mortal sick after the way that Joseph AntonyKinsella made him turn to making a rudder iron and him as drunk at thetime as any man ever you seen. It was him told me about the sergeant andwhere he went last night. "

"Well, " said Sweeny, "and what did he tell you?"

"He told me that the sergeant went along the road till he met with thegentleman that does be going about the country and has the two ladieswith him, the one of them that might be his wife and the other has JimmyKinsella engaged to row her round the bay while she'd be bathing. "

"There's too many going round the country and the bay and that's a fact. We could do with less. "

"We could, surely. But there's no harm in them ones. What the sergeantsaid to the gentleman Patsy the smith couldn't hear but it was maybehalf an hour after when the sergeant went home again and he had a lookon him like a man that was middling well satisfied. Patsy the smith sawhim for he was in the ditch when he passed, terrible sick, retching theway he thought the whole of his liver would be out on the road beforehe'd done. Well, there was no more happened last night; but it wasn'tmore than nine o'clock this morning before that same sergeant was offup to the big house and I wouldn't wonder but it was to tell the strangegentleman that's there whatever it was he heard him last night. He hadthat kind of a look about him anyway. "

"I don't like the way things is going on, " said Sweeny. "What is itthat's up at the big house at all?"

"They tell me, " said Walsh, "that he's a mighty high up gentlemanwhoever he is. "

"He may be, but I'd be glad if I knew what he's doing here, for I don'tlike the looks of him. "

Patsy the smith, pallid after the experience of the night before, walkedinto the shop. 

"If Peter Walsh is there, " he said, "the sergeant is down about the quaylooking for him. "

"You better go to him, " said Sweeny, "and mind now what you say to him. "

"You'll not say much, " said Patsy the smith, "for he'll have you whippedoff into one of the cells in the barrack before you've time to speak. He's terrible determined. "

Patsy's face was yellow—a witness to the fact that his liver was stillin him—and he was inclined to take a pessimistic view of life. PeterWalsh paid no attention to his prophecy. Sweeny looked anxious. 

The sergeant was standing outside the door of Bran-nigan's shop. Heaccosted Peter Walsh as soon as he caught sight of him. 

"Sir Lucius bid me tell you, " he said, "that you're to have the_Tortoise_ ready for him at twelve o'clock, and that his lordship willbe going with him, so he won't be needing you in the boat. "

"It would fail me to do that, " said Peter, "for she's out, MissPriscilla and the young gentleman with the sore leg has her. "

"Sir Lucius was partly in doubt, " said the sergeant, "but it might bethe way you say, for I told him myself that the boat was gone. But hislordship wouldn't be put off, and you're to hire another boat. "

"What boat?"

"It was Joseph Antony Kinsella's he mentioned, " said the sergeant, "whenI told him it was likely he'd be in with another load of gravel. Butsure one boat's as good as another so long as it is a boat. His lordshipwouldn't be turned aside from going. "

"Them ones, " said Peter Walsh, "must have their own way whateverhappens. It's pleasure sailing they're for, I'm thinking, among theislands?"

"It might be, " said the sergeant "I didn't ask. "

"You could guess though. "

"And if I could, do you think I'd tell you? It's too fond of askingquestions you are, Peter Walsh, about what doesn't concern you. "

The sergeant turned his back and walked away. Peter Walsh watched himenter the barrack. Then he himself went back to Sweeny's shop. 

"They're wanting a boat, " he said. "Joseph Antony Kinsella's oranother. "

"And what for?"

"Unless it's to go out to Inishbawn, " said Peter, "I don't know whatfor. "

"Bedamn then, " said Sweeny, "there's no boat for them. "

"I was thinking that myself. "

"I wouldn't wonder, " said Sweeney, "but something might stop JosephAntony Kinsella from coming in today after all, thought he's due withanother load of gravel. "

"He mightn't come, " said Patsy the smith. "There's many a thing couldhappen to prevent him. "

"What time were they thinking of starting?" said Sweeny. 

"Twelve o'clock, " said Peter Walsh. 

"Patsy, " said Sweeny, "let you take Brannigan's old punt and go down asfar as the stone perch to try can you see Joseph Antony Kinsella comingin. "

Patsy the smith was in a condition of great physical misery; but theoccasion demanded energy and self-sacrifice. He staggered down to theslip, loosed the mooring rope of Brannigan's dilapidated punt and droveher slowly down the harbour, waggling one oar over her stern. 

"Let you go round the town, " said Sweeny to Peter Walsh, "and find outwhere the fellows is that came in with the boats that's at the quay thisminute. It's time they were off out of this. "

Peter Walsh left the shop. In a minute or two he came back again. 

"There's Miss Priscilla's boat, " he said, "the _Blue Wanderer_. You'reforgetting her. "

"They'd never venture as far as Inishbawn in her, " said Sweeny. 

"They might then. The wind's east and she'd run out easy enough underthe little lug. "

"They'd have to row back. "

"The likes of them ones, " said Peter Walsh, "wouldn't think about howthey'd get back till the time came. I'm uneasy about that boat, so Iam. "

"Tell me this now, " said Sweeny, after a moment's consideration. "Didthe young lady say e'er a word to you about giving the boat a fresh lickof paint?"

"She did not. Why would she? Amn't I just after painting the boat?"

"Are you sure now she didn't say she'd be the better of another coat?"

"She might then, some time that I wouldn't be paying much attention towhat she said. I'm a terrible one to disremember things anyway. "

"You'd better do it then, " said Sweeny. "There's plenty of the samepaint you had before in Brannigan's, and it will do the boat no harm toget a lick with it. "

Peter Walsh left the shop again and walked in a careless way down thestreet. Sweeny followed him at a little distance and spoke to the menwho were sitting on Brannigan's window sills. They rose at once andwalked down to the slip. In a few minutes the _Blue Wanderer_ wasdragged from her moorings and carried up to a glassy patch of wasteland at the end of the quay. Her floor boards were taken out of her, her oars, rudder and mast were laid on the grass. The boat herself wasturned bottom upwards. "

In the course of the next half hour the owners of the boats which layalongside the quay sauntered down one by one. Brown lugsails were run upon the smaller boats. The mainsail of the hooker was slowly hoisted. Athalf past eleven there was not a single boat of any kind left afloat inthe harbour. Peter Walsh, his coat off and his sleeves rolled up, waslaying long stripes of green paint on the already shining bottom of theBlue Wanderer. He worked with the greatest zeal and earnestness. TimothySweeny looked at the empty harbour with satisfaction. Then he went backto the shop and dosed comfortably behind his bar. 

Patsy the smith stood in the stern of the punt and waggled his oar withforce and skill. He disliked taking this kind of exercise very muchindeed. His nature craved for copious, cooling drafts of porter, drawnstraight from the cask and served in large thick tumblers. He hadintended to spend the morning in taking this kind of refreshment The daywas exceedingly hot. When he reached the end of the quay his mouth wasquite dry inside and his legs were shaking under him. He looked roundwith eyes which were strikingly bloodshot. There was no sign of JosephAntony Kinsella's boat on the long stretch of water between him and thestone perch. If he could have articulated at all he would have sworn. Being unable to swear he groaned deeply and took his oar again. The puntwobbled forward very much as a fat duck walks. 

When he reached Delgipish he looked round again. A mile out beyond thestone perch he saw a boat moving slowly towards him. His eyes served himbadly and although he could see the splash of the oars in the waterhe could not make out who the rower was. A man of weaker character, suffering the same physical torture, would have allowed himself to drifton the shore of Delginish and there would have awaited the coming of theboat he had seen. But Patsy the smith was brave. He was also nerved bythe extreme importance of his mission. It was absolutely necessary thatsomething should happen to prevent Joseph Antony bringing his boat toRosnacree harbour. The sight of one brown sail and then another stealinground the end of the quay gave him fresh courage. Timothy Sweeny andPeter Walsh had done their work on shore. He was determined not to failin carrying through his part of a masterly scheme. 

For twenty minutes Patsy the smith sculled on. It seemed to himsometimes as if each sway of his body, each tug of his tired arms mustbe the last possible. Yet he succeeded in going on. He dared not lookround lest the boat he had seen should prove after all not to be the onehe sought. Such a disappointment would, he knew, be more than he couldbear. At last the splash of oars reached his ears and he heard himselfhailed by name. The voice was Kinsella's. The relief was too much forPatsy. He sat down on the thwart behind him and was violently sick. Kinsella laid his boat alongside the punt and looked calmly at hisfriend. Not until the worst spasms were over did he speak. 

"Faith, Patsy, " he said, "it must have been a terrible drenching yougave yourself last night, and the stuff was good too, as good as ever Iseen. What has you in the state you're in at all?"

The sickness had to some extent revived Patsy the smith. He was able tospeak, though with difficulty. 

"Go back out of that, " he said. 

"And why would I go back?"

"Timothy Sweeny says you're to go back, for if you come in to the quaytoday there'll be the devil and all if not worse. "

"If that's the way of it I will go back; but I'd be glad, so I would, ifI knew what Sweeny means by it. It's a poor thing to be breaking my backrowing a boatload of gravel all the way from Inishbawn and then to betold to turn round and go back; and just now too, when the wind hasdropped and it's beginning to look mighty black over to the eastward. "

"You're to go back, " said Patsy, "because the strange gentleman that'sup at the big house is wanting your boat. "

"Let him want!"

"He'll get it, if so be that you go in to the quay, and when he has itthe first thing he'll do is to go out to Inishbawn. It's there he wantsto be and it's yourself knows best what he'd find if he got there. Goback, I tell you. "

"If you'll take my advice, " said Kinsella, "you will go back yourself. There's thunder beyond there coming up, and there'll be a breeze settingtowards it from the west before another ten minutes is over our heads. I don't know will you care for that in the state you're in this minute, with that old punt and only one oar. The tide'll be running strongagainst the breeze and there'll be a kick-up at the stone perch. "

Patsy the smith saw the wisdom of this advice. Tired as he was he seizedhis one oar and began sculling home. Kinsella watched him go and thendid a peculiar thing. He took the shovel which lay amidships in hisboat and began to heave his cargo of gravel into the sea. As he workeda faint breeze from the west rose, fanned him and died away. Anothersucceeded it and then another. Kinsella looked round him. The four boatswhich had drifted out from the quay before the easterly breeze of themorning, had hauled in their sheets. They were awaiting a wind fromthe west. The heavy purple thunder cloud was rapidly climbing the sky. Kinsella shovelled hard at his gravel. His boat, lightened of her load, rose in the water, showing inch by inch more free board. A steady breezefrom the west succeeded the light occasional puffs. It increased instrength. The four boats inside him stooped to it. They sped acrossand across the channel towards the stone perch in short tacks. Kinsellahoisted his sail and took the tiller. The boat swung up into the windand coursed away to the south west, close hauled to a stiff west wind. The thunder cloud burst over Rosnacree. 

Sir Lucius and Lord Torrington drove into the town and pulled up infront of Brannigan's shop at a quarter to twelve. They looked round theempty harbour in some surprise. Sir Lucius went at once into the shop. Lord Torrington, being an Englishman with a proper belief in theforces of law and order, walked a few yards back and entered the policebarracks. 

"Brannigan, " said Sir Lucius, "where's my boat? and where's that ruffianPeter Walsh?"

"Your boat, is it?" said Brannigan. 

"I sent down word to Peter Walsh to have her ready for me at twelve, or, if my daughter had taken her out——"

"It would be better, " said Brannigan, "if you were to see Peter Walshyourself. Sure I don't know what's happened to your boat. "

"Where's Peter Walsh?"

"He's down at the end of the quay putting an extra coat of paint on MissPriscilla's boat I don't know what sense there is in doing the like, butof course he wouldn't care to go contrary to what the young lady mightsay. "

Sir Lucius left the shop abruptly. At the door he ran into LordTorrington and the police sergeant. 

"Damn it all, Lentaigne, " said Lord Torrington, "how are we going to getout?"

"There was boats in it, " said the police sergeant, "plenty of them, whenI gave your lordship's message to Peter Walsh. "

"Where are they now?" said Lord Torrington. "What's the good of tellingme they were here when they're not?"

The police sergeant looked cautiously round. 

"I wouldn't say, " he said at last, "but they're gone out of it, everyone of the whole lot of them. "

Peter Walsh, his paint brush in his hand, and an expression ofrespectful regret, on his face, came up to Sir Lucius and touched hishat. 

"What's the meaning of this?" said Sir Lucius. "Didn't I send you wordto have a boat, either my own or some other, ready for me at twelve?"

"The message the sergeant gave me, " said Peter Walsh, "was to engageJoseph Antony Kinsella's boat for your honour if so be that MissPriscilla had your own took out. "

"And why the devil didn't you?" said Lord Torrington. 

"Because she's not in it, your honour; nor hasn't been this day. I waswaiting for her and the minute she came to the quay I'd have been inher, helping Joseph Antony to shovel out the gravel the way she'd be fitfor two gentlemen like yourselves to go in her. "

"Is there no other boat to be got?" said Lord Torrington. 

"Launch Miss Priscilla's at once, " said Sir Lucius. 

"Sure the paint's wet on the bottom of her. "

"Launch her, " said Sir Lucius, "paint or not paint. "

"I'll launch her if your honour bids me, " said Peter Walsh. "But whatuse will she be to you when she's in the water? She'll not work towindward for you under the little lug that's in her, and it's from thewest the wind's coming now. "

He looked round the sky as he spoke. 

"Glory be to God!" he said. "Will you look at what's coming. There'sthunder in it and maybe worse. "

Sir Lucius took Lord Torrington by the arm and led him out of earshot ofthe police sergeant and Peter Walsh. 

"We'd better not go today, Torrington. There's a thunder storm coming. We'd simply get drenched. "

"I don't care if I am drenched. "

"And besides we can't go. There isn't a boat. We couldn't get anywherein that little thing of Priscilla's. After all if she's on an islandtoday she'll be there tomorrow. "

"If that fool of a sergeant told us the truth this morning, " said LordTorrington, "and there's some man with her I want to break every bone inhis body as soon as I can. "

"He'll be there tomorrow, " said Sir Lucius, "and I'll see that there's aboat here to take us out. "

CHAPTER XVIII

Priscilla and Frank left the quay at half past seven against a tidewhich was still rising, but with a pleasant easterly breeze behindthem. Once past the stone perch Priscilla set the boat on her course forCraggeen and gave the tiller to Frank. She herself pulled a spinnakerfrom beneath the stern sheets and explained to Frank that when she hadhoisted it the boat's speed would be considerably increased. Then shemade him uncomfortable by hitting him several times in different partsof the body with a long spar which she called the spinnaker boom. 

The setting of this sail struck Frank as an immensely complicatedbusiness. He watched Priscilla working with a whole series of ropes andadmired her skill greatly, until it occurred to him that she was notvery sure of what she was doing. A rope, which she had made fast withsome care close beside him, had to be cast loose, carried forward, passed outside a stay, and then made fast again. There appeared to bethree corners to the spinnaker, and all three were hooked turn about onthe end of the boom. Even when the third was unhooked again and theone which had been tried first restored to its place Priscilla seemeda little dissatisfied with the result. Another of the three corners wascaught and held by the clip-hooks on the end of the halliard. Priscillamoused these carefully, explaining why she did so, and then found thatshe had to cut the mousing and catch the remaining corner of the sailwith the hooks. When at last she triumphantly hoisted it the thing wentup in a kind of bundle. Its own sheet was wrapped round it twice, anda jib sheet which had somehow wandered away from its proper place gottwined round and round the boom which remained immovable near the mast. Priscilla surveyed the result of her work with a puzzled frown. Then shelowered the sail and turned to Frank. 

"I thoroughly understand spinnakers, " she said, "in theory. I don'tsuppose that there's a single thing known about them that I don't know. But they're beastly confusing things when you come to deal with themin practical life. Lots of other things are like that. It's exactly thesame with algebra. I expect I've told you that I simply loathe algebra. Well, that's the reason. I understand it all right, but when it comesto doing it, it comes out just like that spinnaker. However it doesn'treally matter. That's the great comfort about most things. You get onquite well enough without them, though of course you would get on betterwith, if you could do them. "

The _Tortoise_ did in fact slip along at a very satisfactory pace inspite of the lightness of the wind. It was just half past eight whenthey reached the mouth of the bay in which they had lunched the daybefore with Miss Rutherford. 

"I feel rather, " said Priscilla, "as if I could do with a littlebreakfast There's no use going on shore. Let's anchor and eat what wewant in the boat. "

Frank who was very hungry agreed at once. He rounded the boat up intothe wind and Priscilla flung the anchor overboard. Then she picked herparcels one by one from the folds of the spinnaker in which they hadwrapped themselves. 

"It won't do, " she said, "to eat everything today at the first go offthe way we did yesterday. Specially as we've promised to give MissRutherford luncheon. The duck, for instance, had better be kept. "

She laid the duck down again and covered it, a little regretfully, with the spinnaker. She took up the jampot which contained the caramelpudding. Her face brightened as she looked at it. 

"By the way, Cousin Frank, " she said. "That word is inviolable. "

"That word?"

"The sanctuary and secret word, " said Priscilla. "Don't you rememberI couldn't get it last night But I did after I went to sleep which wasjolly lucky. I hopped up at once and wrote it down. Now we know whatInishbawn will be for Lady Torrington's poor daughter when we get herthere. All the same I don't think we'd better eat the caramel puddingat breakfast It mightn't be wholesome for you at this hour—on accountof your sprained ankle, I mean, and not being accustomed to puddings atbreakfast. Besides I expect Miss Rutherford would rather like it. Whatdo you say to starting with an artichoke each?"

Frank was ready to start with anything that was given him. He ate theartichoke greedily and felt hardly less hungry when he had finished it. Priscilla too seemed unsatisfied. She said that they had perhaps made amistake in beginning with the artichokes. But her sense of duty andher instinct for hospitality triumphed over her appetite. Feeling thattemptation might prove overpowering, she put the slices of cold fish outof sight under the spinnaker with the remark that they ought to be keptfor Miss Rutherford. She and Frank ate the herrings' roes on toast, thesweetbread and one of the four rolls. Then though Frank still lookedhungry, Priscilla hoisted the foresail and hauled up the anchor. 

They reached the passage past Craggeen when the tide was at the full andthreaded their way among the rocks successfully. They passed into thewide water of Finilaun roads. A long reach lay before them and the windhad begun to die down as the tide turned. Priscilla, leaving Frankto steer, settled herself comfortably on the weather side of the boatbetween the centreboard case and the gunwale. Far down to leewardanother boat was slipping across the roads towards the south. She had anold stained jib and an obtrusively new mainsail which shone dazzlinglywhite in the sun. Priscilla watched her with idle interest for sometime. Then she announced that she was Flanagan's new boat. 

"He bought the calico for the sail at Brannigan's, " she said, "and madeit himself. Peter Walsh told me that. I'm bound to say it doesn't sitbadly; but of course you can't really tell about the sit of a sail whenthe boat's off the wind. I'd like to see it when she's close-hauled. That's the way with lots of other things besides sails. I dare say nowthat Lord Torrington is quite an agreeable sort of man when his daughterisn't running away. "

"I'm sure he's not, " said Frank. 

"You can't be sure, " said Priscilla. "Nobody could, except of courseLady Torrington and she doesn't seem to me the sort of person who's muchcowed in her own house. I wish you'd heard her going for Aunt Julietlast night, most politely, but every word she said had what's called inFrench a 'double entendre' wrapped up in it. That means——"

"I know what it means, " said Frank. 

"That's all right then. I thought perhaps you wouldn't. I always heardthey rather despised French at boys' schools, which is idiotic of courseand may not be true. "

Frank recollected a form master with whom, at one stage of his career atschool he used to study the adventures of the innocent Telemaque. Thisgentleman refused to read aloud or allow his class to read aloudthe text of the book, alleging that no one who did not suffer from amalformation of the mouth could pronounce French properly. Still eventhis master must have attached some meaning to the phrase "doubleentendre, " though he might not have used it in precisely Priscilla'ssense. 

"Flanagan has probably been over to Curraunbeg, " said Priscilla, "to seehow his old boat is looking. After what Jimmy Kinsella is sure tohave told him about the way they're treating her he's naturally a bitanxious. I wonder will he have the nerve to charge them anything extraat the end for dilapidations. It's curious now that we don't see thetents on Curraunbeg. I saw them yesterday from Craggeen. Perhaps they'vemoved round to the other side of the island. "

"There's a boat coming out from behind the point now, " said Frank. "Perhaps they're moving again. "

Priscilla leaned over the gunwale and stared long at the boat whichFrank pointed out. 

"There's a man and a woman in her, " he said. 

"It's not Flanagan's old boat though, " said Priscilla. "I rather thinkit's Jimmy Kinsella. I hope Miss Rutherford hasn't been hunting them onher own, under the impression that they're German spies. We oughtn't tohave told her that. She's so frightfully impulsive you can't tell whatshe'd do. "

Jimmy Kinsella had recognised the _Tortoise_ shortly after he roundedthe point of Curraunbeg. He dropped his lug sail and began to row up towindward evidently meaning to get within speaking distance of Priscilla. The boats approached each other at an angle. Miss Rutherford stood upin the stern of hers, waved a pocket handkerchief and shouted. Priscillashouted in reply. Frank threw the _Tortoise_ up into the wind and JimmyKinsella pulled alongside. 

"They've gone, " said Miss Rutherford. "They've escaped you again. "

"You've frightened them away, " said Priscilla. "I wish you wouldn't. "

"No, " said Miss Rutherford, "I didn't Honour bright! They'd gone beforeI got there. The people on the island said they packed up early thismorning and when they saw Flanagan passing in his new boat they hailedhim and got him to take them off. "

"Wasn't that the boat we saw just now?" said Frank. 

"Yes, " said Priscilla. "Frightfully annoying, isn't it?"

"Never mind, " said Miss Rutherford. "I know where they're gone. Thepeople on the island told me. To Inishminna. Wasn't Inishminna the name, Jimmy?"

"It was, Miss. "

"Climb on board, " said Priscilla. "That is to say if you want to come. We must be after them at once. We'll follow Flanagan. Jimmy can rowthrough Craggeen passage and pick you up afterwards. "

Miss Rutherford tumbled from her own boat into the _Tortoise_. 

"Thanks awfully, " she said. "I want to see you arrest those spies morethan anything. "

"They're not spies, " said Priscilla. 

"We never really thought they were, " said Frank. 

"The truth is——" said Priscilla. 

She stopped abruptly and looked round. Jimmy Kinsella was some distanceastern heading for Craggeen. He appeared to be quite out of earshot. Nevertheless Priscilla lowered her voice to a whisper. 

"We're on an errand of mercy, " she said. 

"Oh, " said Miss Rutherford, "not vengeance. I'm disappointed. "

"Mercy is a much nicer thing, " said Priscilla, "besides being moreChristian. "

"All the same, " said Miss Rutherford, "I'm disappointed. Vengeance isfar more exciting. "

"To a certain extent, " said Priscilla, "we're taking vengeance too. At least Frank is, on account of his ankle you know. So you needn't bedisappointed. "

"That cheers me up a little, " said Miss Rutherford, "but do explain. "

"It's quite simple really, " said Priscilla. "Though it may seem a littlecomplicated. You explain, Cousin Frank, and be sure to begin at thebeginning or she won't understand. "

"Lord Torrington, " said Frank, "is Secretary of State for War, and hisdaughter, Lady Isabel—but perhaps I'd better tell you first that as Iwas coming over to Ireland I met——"

"'Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle, " said Priscilla, waving her handstowards the sea, "'this dark and stormy water?'"

"'Oh I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle, and this Lord Ullin's daughter. ' Youknow that poem, I suppose. "

"I've known it for years, " said Miss Rutherford. 

"Well, thats it, " said Priscilla. "You have the whole thing now. "

"I see, " said Miss Rutherford, "I see it all now, or almost all. This isfar better than spies. How did you ever think of it?"

"It's true, " said Priscilla. 

"Lord Torrington, " said Frank, "is over here stopping with my uncle, andhe came specially to find his daughter who's run away. "

"'One lovely hand stretched out for aid, '" said Priscilla, "'and one wasround her lover. ' That's what we want to avoid if we can. I call that anerrand of mercy. Don't you?"

"It's far and away the most merciful errand I ever heard of, " said MissRutherford. "But why don't you hurry? At any moment now her father's menmay reach the shore. "

"We can't, " said Priscilla, "hurry any more than we are. The wind'sdropping every minute. Luff her a little bit, Frank, or she won't clearthe point. The tide's taking us down, and that point runs out a terrificdistance. "

"The only thing I don't quite see yet, " said Miss Rutherford, "is wherethe vengeance comes in. "

"That's to be taken on her father, " said Priscilla. 

"Quite right, " said Miss Rutherford, "as a matter of abstract justice;but I rather gathered from the way you spoke, Priscilla, that Frank hadsome kind of private feud with the old gentleman. "

"He shoved me off the end of the steamer's gangway, " said Frank, "andsprained my ankle. He has never so much as said he was sorry. "

"Good, " said Miss Rutherford. "Now our consciences are absolutely clear. What we are going to do is to carry off the blushing bride to somedistant island. "

"Inishbawn, " said Priscilla. 

The _Tortoise_ had slipped through the passage at the south end ofFinislaun. She was moving very slowly across another stretch of openwater. On her lee bow lay Inishbawn. The island differs from most othersin the bay in being twin. Instead of one there are two green moundslinked together by a long ridge of grey boulders. Tides sweep furiouslyround the two horns of it, but the water inside is calm and shelteredfrom any wind except one from the south east On the slope of thenorthern hill stands the Kinsellas' cottage, with certain patches ofcultivated land around it. The southern hill is bare pasture land roamedover by bullocks and a few sheep which in stormy weather or night crossthe stony isthmus to seek companionship and shelter near the cottage. 

"Isn't that Inishbawn?" said Miss Rutherford. "Jimmy Kinsella told me itwas the day I first met you. "

"That's it, " said Priscilla, "that's where we mean to put her. "

"It's not half far enough away, " said Miss Rutherford. "Lord Ullin orTorrington or whatever lord it is will quite easily follow her there. We must go much further, right out into the west to High Brasail, wherelovers are ever young and angry fathers do not come. "

"Inishbawn will do all right, " said Priscilla. 

"Priscilla says, " said Frank, "that the people won't let Lord Torringtonland on Inishbawn. "

"They certainly seemed to have some objection to letting any one land, "said Miss Rutherford. "Every time I suggested going there Jimmy hasheaded me oflf with one excuse or another. "

"They have very good reasons, " said Priscilla. "I have more or less ideawhat they are; but of course I can't tell you. It's never right to tellother people's secrets unless you're perfectly sure that you know themyourself, and I'm not sure. You hardly ever can be unless you happen tobe one of the people that has the secret and in this case I'm not. "

"I don't want to ask embarrassing questions, " said Miss Rutherford, "though I'm almost consumed with curiosity about the secret. But are youquite sure that it's of a kind that will really prevent Lord Torringtonlanding there?"

"Quite absolutely, dead, cock sure, " said Priscilla. "If I'm right aboutthe secret and I think I am, though of course it's quite possible that Imay not be, but if I am there isn't a man about the bay who wouldn'tdie a thousand miserable deaths rather than let Lord Torrington and thepolice sergeant land on that island. "

"Then all we've got to do, " said Miss Rutherford, "is to get her thereand she's safe. "

Priscilla hurriedly turned over the corner of the spinnaker and got outthe jam pot. She glanced at its paper cover. 

"Inishbawn is an inviolable sanctuary, " she said. "What a mercy it isthat I wrote down that word last night. I had forgotten it again. It's adesperately hard word to remember. "

"It's a very good word, " said Miss Rutherford. 

"It's useful anyhow, " said Priscilla. "In fact, considering what we'regoing to do I don't see how we could very well get on without it. Isuppose it's rather too early to have luncheon. "

"It's only half past eleven, " said Frank, "but——"

"I breakfasted early, " said Miss Rutherford. 

"We scarcely breakfasted at all, " said Frank. 

"All right, " said Priscilla, "the wind's gone hopelessly. It's much toohot to row, so I suppose we may as well have luncheon though it's notthe proper time. "

"Let us shake ourselves free of the wretched conventions of ordinarycivilisation, " said Miss Rutherford. "Let us eat when we are hungrywithout regard to the clock. Let us gorge ourselves with Californiapeach juice. Let us suck the burning peppermint—"

"We haven't any today, " said Priscilla. "Brannigan's wasn't open when westarted. "

"The principle is just the same, " said Miss Rutherford. "Whatever foodyou have is sure to be refreshingly unusual. "

CHAPTER XIX

The _Tortoise_ lay absolutely becalmed. The ebbing tide carried herslowly past Inishbawn towards the deep passage between the end of thebreakwater of boulders and the point on which the lighthouse stands. The air was extraordinarily close and oppressive. Even Priscilla seemedaffected by it. She lay against the side of the boat with her handstrailing idly in the water. Frank sat with the useless tiller in hishand and watched the boom swing slowly across as the boat swayed thisway or that with the current. Miss Rutherford, her face glistening withheat, had gone to sleep in a most uncomfortable attitude soon afterluncheon. Her head nodded backwards from time to time and whenever itdid so she opened her eyes, smiled at Frank, rearranged herself a littleand then went to sleep again. 

The cattle on Inishbawn had forsaken their scanty pasture and stoodknee-deep in the sea. Not even the wild new heifer, which had goredJimmy Kinsella, if such a creature existed at all, would have had energyto do much. A dog, which ought perhaps to have been barking at thecattle, lay prostrate under the shadow afforded by a grassy bank. Aflock of white terns floated motionless a few yards from the _Tortoise_, looking like a miniature fleet of graceful, white-sailed pleasure boats. They had no heart to go circling and swooping for fish. 

Perhaps it would have been useless if they had. The fish themselves maywell have been lying, in search of coolness among the weedy stones atthe bottom of the sea. Of all living creatures the jelly fish aloneseemed to retain any spirit. Immense crowds of them drifted pastthe _Tortoise_, swelling out and closing again their concave bodies, revolving slowly round, dragging long purple tendrils deliriouslythrough the warm water. They swept past Priscilla's drooping hands, touching them with their yielding bodies and brushing them softly withtheir tendrils. Now and then she lifted one from the water, watched itlie flaccid on the palm of her hand and then dropped it into the seaagain. 

A faint air of wind stole across from Inishbawn. The _Tortoise_, utterlywithout steerage way, felt it and turned slowly towards it. It was as ifshe stretched her head out for another such gentle kiss as the wind gaveher. Priscilla felt it, and with returning animation made a plunge foran unusually large jelly fish, captured it and held it up triumphantly. 

"It's a pity you're not out after jelly fish, Miss Rutherford, " shesaid, "instead of sponges. There are thousands and thousands of them. Wecould fill the boat with them in half an hour. "

Miss Rutherford made no reply. She had succeeded in wriggling herselfinto such a position that her head rested on the thwart of the boat. Herface was extremely red, and, owing perhaps to the twisted position ofher neck, she was snoring. Priscilla looked at Frank and smiled. 

"I wonder, " she said, "if we ought to wake her up. She won't like it, of course, but it may be the kindest thing to do. It wouldn't be at allnice for her if she smothered in her sleep. "

Frank blinked lazily. He was very nearly asleep. 

"You're a nice pair, " said Priscilla. "What on earth is the point ofdropping off like that in the middle of the day? Ghastly laziness I callit. "

Another puff of wind and then another came from the west. The _Tortoise_began to move through the water. Frank woke up and paid seriousattention to his steering. Priscilla looked round the sea and then thesky. The thunder storm was breaking over Rosnacree, five miles to theeast, and a heavy bank of dark clouds was piled up across the sky. 

"It looks uncommonly queer, " said Priscilla, "rather magnificent insome ways, but I wish I knew exactly what it's going to do. I don'tunderstand this breeze coming in from the west. It's freshening too. "

A long deep growl reached them from the east. 

"Thunder, " said Frank. 

"Must be, " said Priscilla. "The clouds are coming up against the wind. Only thunder does that—and liberty. At least Wordsworth says libertydoes. I never saw it myself. I told you we were doing 'The Excursion'last term. It's in that somewhere. I say, this breeze is freshening. Keep her just as she's going, Cousin Frank. We'll be able to let her goin a minute. Oh, do look at the water!"

The sea had turned a deep purple colour. In spite of the ripples whichthe westerly breeze raised on its surface it had a curious look of sulkymenace. 

"Miss Rutherford, " said Priscilla, "wake up, we're going to have athunder storm. "

Miss Rutherford sat up with a start

"A storm!" she said. "How splendid! Any chance of being wrecked?"

"Not at present, " said Priscilla, "but you never know what may happen. If you feel at all nervous I'll steer myself. "

"Nervous!" said Miss Rutherford. "I'm delighted. There's nothing Ishould like more than to be wrecked on a desert island with you two. It would just complete the most glorious series of adventures I've everhad. Do try and get wrecked. "

"Hadn't we better go in to Inishbawn and wait till it's over?" saidFrank. 

"Nonsense, " said Priscilla. "Wetting won't hurt us, and anyway we'll beat Inishminna in half an hour with this breeze. "

The _Tortoise_ was racing through the dark water. She was listed overso that her lee gunwale seemed likely to dip under. Miss Rutherford, inspite of her wish for shipwreck, scrambled up to windward. They reachedthe point of Ardilaun and fled, bending and staggering, down the narrowpassage between it and Inishlean. Priscilla took the mainsheet in herhand and ordered Frank to luff a little. There was another period ofrushing, heavily listed, with the wind fair abeam. Now and then, as asquall struck the sails, Priscilla let the mainsheet run out and allowedthe _Tortoise_ to right herself. The sea was flecked with the white topsof short, steep waves, raised hurriedly, as it were irritably by thewind. A few heavy drops of rain fell. The whole sky became very dark. Abright zig-zag of light flashed down, the thunder crashed over head. Therain came down like a solid sheet of water. 

"Let her away again now, " said Priscilla. "We can run right down onInishark. Be ready to round her up into the wind when I tell you. Idaren't jibe her. "

"Don't, " said Frank. "I say, you'd better steer. "

"Can't now. We couldn't possibly change places. Are you all right, MissRutherford?"

"Splendid. Couldn't be better. I'm soaked to the skin. Can't possibly beany wetter even if we swim for it. "

Inishark loomed, a low dark mass under their bow, dimly seen through aveil of blinding rain which fell so heavily that the floor boards undertheir feet were already awash. 

"We'll have to bail in a minute or two if this goes on, " said Priscilla. "I wonder where the tin is?"

A roar of thunder drowned her voice. Miss Rutherford and Frank saw hergesticulate wildly and point towards the island. Two small patches ofwhite were to be seen near the shore. 

"Their tents, " yelled Priscilla. "We have them now if we don't sink. Luff her up, Cousin Frank, luff her up for all you're worth. We must gether off on the other tack or we'll be past them. "

She hauled on the mainsheet as she spoke. The _Tortoise_ rounded up intothe wind, lay over till the water began to pour over her side, rightedherself again and stood suddenly on an even keel, her sails flappingwildly, the boat herself trembling like a creature desperatelyfrightened. Then she fell off on her new tack. Priscilla dragged MissRutherford up to windward. Frank, guided by instinct rather than by anyknowledge of what was happening, scrambled up past the end of the longtiller. Priscilla let the main sheet run out again. The _Tortoise_ racedstraight for the shore. 

"Keep her as she's going, Cousin Frank. I'll get the sail off her. "

For a minute or two there was wild confusion. Priscilla treading on MissRutherford without remorse or apology, struggled with the halyard. The sail bellied hugely, dipped into the sea to leeward and was hauleddesperately on board. The rain streamed down on them, each drop startingup again like a miniature fountain when it splashed upon the wood of theboat. The _Tortoise_, nearly half full of water, still staggered towardsthe shore under her foresail. Priscilla hauled at the rope of thecentreboard. 

"Run her up on the beach, " she shouted. "If we do knock a hole in her itcan't be helped. Oh glory, glory! look at that!"

One of the tents tore itself from its fastenings, flapped wildly in theair and then collapsed on the ground, a writhing heaving mass of soakedcanvas. The _Tortoise_ struck heavily on the shore. Priscilla leapedover her bows and ran up the beach with the anchor in her hand. Sherammed one of its flukes deep into the gravel. Then she turned towardsthe boat and shouted:

"You help Frank out, Miss Rutherford. I must run on and see what'shappening to those tents. "

A young woman, rain soaked and dishevelled, knelt beside the fallentent. She was working with fierce energy at the guy ropes, such of themas still clung to their pegs. They were hopelessly entangled with theothers which had broken free and all of them were knotted and twistedround corners of the flapping canvas. 

"If I were you, " said Priscilla, "I'd leave those things alone till thestorm blows over. You're only making them worse. "

The young woman looked round at Priscilla and smoothed her blown wethair from her face. 

"Come and help me, " she said, "please. "

"What's the good of hurrying?" said Priscilla. 

"My husband's underneath. "

"Well, I suppose he's all right. In fact, I daresay he's a good dealdrier there than we are outside. We'd far better go into your tent andwait. "

"He'll smother. "

"Not he. If he's suffering from anything this minute I should say it isdraughts. "

The canvas heaved convulsively. It was evident that some one underneathwas making desperate efforts to get out. 

"He's smothering. I know he is. "

"Very well, " said Priscilla. "I'll give you a help if you like; I don'tknow much about tents and I may simply make things worse. However, I'lltry. "

She attacked a complex tangle of ropes vigorously. Miss Rutherford, with Frank leaning on her shoulder, staggered up the beach. Just as theyreached the tents the head of a young man appeared under the flappingcanvas. Then his arms struggled out Priscilla seized him by the handsand pulled hard. 

"Oh, Barnabas!" said the young lady, "are you safe?"

"He's wet, " said Priscilla, "and rather muddy, but he's evidently aliveand he doesn't look as if he was injured in any way. "

The young man looked round him wildly at first He was evidentlybewildered after his struggle with the tent and surprised at the mannerof his rescue. He gradually realised that there were strangers present. His eyes rested on Miss Rutherford. She seemed the most responsiblemember of the party. He pulled himself together with an effortand addressed her in a tone of suave politeness which, under thecircumstances, was very surprising. 

"Perhaps, " he said, "I ought to introduce myself. My name isPennefather, Barnabas Pennefather. The Rev. Barnabas Pennefather. Thisis my wife, Lady Isabel Pennefather. I have a card somewhere. "

He began to fumble in various packets. 

"Never mind the card, " said Priscilla. "We'll take your word for it. "

"We, " said Miss Rutherford, "are a rescue party. We've been in searchof you for days. This is Priscilla. This is Frank. My own name is MarthaRutherford. "

"A rescue party!" said Mr. Pennefather. 

"Did mother send you after us?" said Lady Isabel. "If she did you may goaway again. I won't go back. "

"Quite the contrary, " said Priscilla, "we're on your side. "

"In fact, " said Miss Rutherford, "we're here to save you from——"

"At first, " said Priscilla, "we fancied you might be spies, Germanspies. Afterwards we found out you weren't. That often happens you know. Just as you think you're perfectly certain you're right, it turns outthat you're quite wrong. "

"Then you really were pursuing us, " said Lady Isabel. "I always said youwere, didn't I, Barnabas?"

"Is Lord Torrington here?" said Mr. Pennefather. 

"Not exactly here, " said Priscilla, "at least not yet But he will besoon. When we left home this morning he was fully bent on hunting youdown and I rather think the police sergeant must have given him the tipabout where you are. "

"The police!" said Mr. Pennefather. 

"I don't so much mind if it's only father, " said Lady Isabel. 

"You may not, " said Priscilla. "But I expect Mr. Pennefather will. LordTorrington is very fierce. In his rage and fury he sprained Frank'sankle. He might have broken it. In fact, the railway guard thought hehad. I don't know what he'll do to you when he catches you. "

"Does he know we're married, " said Mr. Pennefather. 

"Is mother with him?" said Lady Isabel. 

"She is, " said Priscilla. "But it's all right. Aunt Juliet will keep herin play. You can count on Aunt Juliet until she finds out that you'remarried—after that——— But it will be all right. We have come to conductyou to a place of safety. "

"An inviolable sanctuary, " said Miss Rutherford. "But we shall all havecolds in the head before we get there if we don't do something to dryourselves. "

"Barnabas, " said Lady Isabel, "do go and change your clothes. He fellinto the sea the other day, and he is so liable to take cold. "

"We saw him, " said Priscilla. "Go and change your clothes, Mr. Pennefather. By the time you've done that Jimmy Kinsella will havearrived and you can be oflf at once with Miss Rutherford. The soonerwe're all out of this the better. Though Lord Torrington doesn't looklike a man who would come out in a thunder storm even to catch hisdaughter. "

"Your black suit is in the hold-all in my tent, " said Lady Isabel. 

The Reverend Barnabas Pennefather disappeared into the tent which wasstill standing. Priscilla looked around her cheerfully. 

"It's clearing up, " she said. "There's quite a lot of blue sky to beseen over Rosnacree. We'll all dry soon. "

She gathered the bottom of her skirt tight into her hands and wrung thewater out of it. 

"Where are you going to take him to?" she said to Miss Rutherford. 

"Am I to take him?" said Miss Rutherford. "I didn't know that was partof the plan. I thought we were all going together to Inishbawn, thesanctuary. "

"Didn't I tell you, " said Priscilla. "We decided that you were to havecharge of Barnabas for a few days until the trouble blows over a bit. You're to pretend that he's your husband. You don't mind, do you?"

"I'd much rather have Frank, " said Miss Rutherford. 

"What on earth would be the use of that?" said Priscilla. 

"But, of course, I'll marry Barnabas with pleasure, " said MissRutherford, "if it's really necessary and Lady Isabel doesn't object. "

"I won't be separated from Barnabas, " said Lady Isabel, "and I'm surehe'll never agree to leave me. "

"All the same you'll have to, " said Priscilla, "both of you. We can'tpretend you're not married if you're going about together on Inishbawn. "

"But I don't want to pretend I'm not married. I'm proud of what we'vedone. "

"You'll sacrifice the respect and affection of Aunt Juliet, " saidPriscilla, "the moment it comes out that you're married. As long as shethinks you're out on your own defying the absurd conventions by whichwomen are made into what she calls 'bedizened dolls for the amusementof the brutalised male sex, ' she'll be all on your side. But once shethinks you've given up your economic independence she'll simply turnround and help Lady Torrington to hunt you down. "

Mr. Pennefather emerged from the tent. He wore a black suit of clothesof strictly clerical cut and a collar which buttoned at the back ofhis neck. Except that he was barefooted and had not brushed his hair hewould have been fit to attend a Church Conference. His self-respect wasrestored by his attire. He walked over to Frank, who was dripping on astone, and handed him a visiting card. Frank read it. 

"Reverend Barnabas Pennefather—St. Agatha's Clergy House—GrosvenorStreet, W. "

"I am the senior curate, " he said. "The staff consists of five priestsbesides the vicar. "

"They want to take you away from me, " said Lady Isabel. "But you won'tgo, say you won't, Barnabas. "

Mr. Pennefather took his place at his wife's side. He held her hand inhis. 

"Nothing on earth, " he said, "can separate us now. "

"Very well, " said Priscilla. "You're rather ungrateful, both of you, considering all we're doing for you, and I don't think you're exactlypolite to Miss Rutherford, however——"

"Don't mind about me, " said Miss Rutherford. "I feel snubbed, of course, but I wasn't really keen on having him for a husband, even temporarily. "

Mr. Pennefather looked at her with shocked surprise. A deep flush spreadslowly over his face. His eyes blazed with righteous indignation. 

"Woman——" he began. 

"If you don't mind, " said Priscilla, "I think we'll call you Barnabas. It's rather long, of course, and solemn. The natural thing would be toshorten it down to Barny, but that wouldn't suit you a bit. The rain'sover now. I think I'll go down and bail out the _Tortoise_. Then we'llall start You people can be taking down the tent that's standing, andfolding up the other one. "

"Where are we going to?" said Mr. Pennefather. 

"To a sanctuary, " said Miss Rutherford, "an inviolable sanctuary. Priscilla has that written down on the cover of a jam pot, so there's nouse arguing about it. "

"She says we'll be safe, " said Lady Isabel. 

"I refuse to move, " said Mr. Pennefather, "until I know where I'm goingand why. "

"You talk to him, Cousin Frank, " said Priscilla. "I see Jimmy Kinsellacoming round the corner in his boat and I really must bail out the_Tortoise_. "

"If you don't move out of this pretty quick, " said Frank to Mr. Pennefather, "Lord Torrington will have you to a dead cert. "

"'And fast before her father's men, " said Miss Rutherford, "'three dayswe fled together. And should they find us in this glen——'"

"Oh, Barnabas, " said Lady Isabel, who knew Campbell's poem andanticipated the end of the quotation, "Oh, Barnabas, let's go, anywhere, anywhere. "

"I never saw any man, " said Frank, "in such a wax as Lord Torrington. "

"I haven't met him myself, " said Miss Rutherford, "but I expect thatwhen he begins to speak he'll shock you even worse than I did. "

"We don't mind Father, " said Lady Isabel. "It's Mother. "

"They're both on your track, " said Frank. 

Mr. Pennefather looked from one to another of the group around him. Thenhe turned slowly on his heel and began to roll up his tent. Lady Isabeland Miss Rutherford set to work to pack the camp equipage. Frank tookoff his coat and wrung the water out of it. Then he spread it on theground and looked at it It was the coat worn by members of the FirstEleven. He had won his right to it when he caught out the Uppinghamcaptain in the long field. Now such triumphs and glories seemedincredibly remote. The voices of Priscilla and Jimmy Kinsella reachedhim from the shore. They were arguing hotly. 

Frank looked at them and saw that they were both on their knees in the_Tortoise_ scooping up water in tin dishes. 

The bailing was finished at last The packing was nearly done. Priscillawalked up to the camp dragging Jimmy Kinsella with her by the collar ofthe coat. 

"Barnabas, " she said, "have you got a revolver?"

Mr. Pennefather looked up from a roll of blankets which he was strappingtogether. 

"No, " he said. "I don't carry revolvers. "

"I think you ought to, " said Priscilla. "I mean whenever you happen tobe running away with the daughter of the First Lord of the War Officeor any one like that. But, of course, being a clergyman may make adifference. It's awfully hard to know exactly what a clergyman oughtto do when he's eloping. At the same time it's jolly awkward you're nothaving a revolver, for Jimmy Kinsella says he won't go to Inishbawn andwe can't all fit in the _Tortoise_. "

"Leave him to me, " said Frank. "Just bring him over here, Priscilla, andI'll deal with him. "

"I'll not take you to Inishbawn, " said Jimmy. 

Priscilla handed him over to Frank. It was a long time, more than twoyears, since Frank had acquired some reputation as a master of men inthe form Room of Remove A. ; but he retained a clear recollection of themethods he had employed. He seized Jimmy Kinsella's wrist and witha deft, rapid movement, twisted it round. Jimmy had not enjoyed theadvantages of an English public school education. Torture of a refinedkind was new to him. He uttered a shrill squeal. 

"Will you go where you're told, " said Frank, "or do you want more?"

"I dursn't take yez to Inishbawn, " said Jimmy whimpering. "My da wouldbeat me if I did. "

Frank twisted his arm again. 

"My da will cut the liver out of me, " said Jimmy. 

"Stop that, " said Mr. Pennefather. "I cannot allow bullying. "

"It's for your sake entirely that it's being done, " said Priscilla. "You're the most ungrateful beast I ever met. It would serve you jollywell right if we left you here to have your own arm twisted by LordTorrington. "

Miss Rutherford was kneeling in front of a beautiful canteen, fittingaluminium plates and various articles of cutlery into the placesprepared for them. She stood up and brandished a large carving fork. 

"This, " she said, "will be just as effective as a revolver. You take it, Frank, and sit close to him in the boat. The moment he stops rowing ortries to go in any direction except Inishbawn you——"

She made a vicious stab in the air and then handed the fork to Frank. 

A quarter of an hour later the party started. Mr. Pennefather and LadyIsabel refused to be separated. Priscilla took them in the _Tortoise_. They sat side by side near the mast and held each other's hands. Priscilla, after one glance in their direction, looked resolutely pastthem for the rest of the voyage. Miss Rutherford sat in the bow of JimmyKinsella's boat. Jimmy sat amidships and rowed. Frank, with the carvingfork poised for a thrust, sat in the stern. The wind, following thedeparted thunderstorm, blew from the east. Priscilla set sail on the_Tortoise_. Jimmy hoisted his lug, but was obliged to row as well assail in order to keep in touch with his consort. The boats groundedalmost together on the shingly beach of Inishbawn. 

Joseph Antony, who had made his way home through the thunderstorm, puthis hand on the bow of the _Tortoise_. 

"It'll be better for you not to land, " he said. 

"I know all about that, " said Priscilla. "You needn't bother to inventanything fresh. "

"You can't land here, " said Joseph Antony. "Aren't there islands enoughin the bay? Jimmy, will you push that boat off from the shore and takethe lady and gentleman that's in her away out of this. "

The carving fork descended an inch towards Jimmy's leg. His fathermenaced him with a threatening scowl. Jimmy sat quite still. Like theleader of the House of Lords during the last stage of a recent politicalcrisis, he had ceased to be a free agent. 

"I don't want to land on your beastly island, " said Priscilla. "If therewasn't as much as a half-tide rock in the whole bay that I could put myfoot on I wouldn't land here, and you can tell your wife from me that ifthat baby of hers was to die for the want of a bit of flannel, I won'tsteal another scrap from Aunt Juliet's box to give it to her. "

"Sure you know well enough, Miss, " said Joseph Antony, "that there'sne'er a one would be more welcome to the island than yourself. But theway things is at present——"

"I've a pretty good guess at the way things are, " said Priscilla, "andthe minute I get back tonight I'm going to tell Sergeant Rafferty. "

Joseph Antony smiled uneasily. 

"You wouldn't do the like of that, " he said. 

"I will, " said Priscilla, "unless you allow me to land these two atonce. "

Joseph Antony looked long and carefully at Mr. Pennefather. 

"What about the other young gentleman?" he said, "the one that has thesore leg?"

"He doesn't want to set foot on Inishbawn, " said Priscilla. 

"And the young lady, " said Joseph Antony, "that does be taking the waterin the little boat along with Jimmy?"

"She'll let Jimmy row her off to any corner of the bay you like, " saidPriscilla, "if you'll allow the other two to land. "

Joseph Antony looked at Mr. Pennefather again. 

"I wouldn't say there was much harm in him, " he said. 

"There's none, " said Priscilla, "absolutely none. Isn't he paying £4 aweek for that old boat of Flanagan's. Doesn't that show you the kind ofman he is?"

"Unless, " said Joseph Antony, "it could be that he's signed the pledgefor life. "

"Have you signed the pledge for life, Barnabas?" said Priscilla. "Let goof her hand for one minute and answer the question that's asked you. "

"Does he mean a temperance pledge?" said Mr. Pennefather. 

"I do, " said Joseph Antony. "Are you a member of the Total AbstinenceSodality?"

"I take a little whisky after my work on Sunday evenings, " said Mr. Pennefather, "and, of course, when I'm dining out I——"

"That'll do, " said Joseph Antony. "A man that takes it one time willtake it another. I suppose now you're not any ways connected with thepolice?"

"He is not, " said Priscilla. "Can't you see he's a clergyman?"

"It's beyond me, " said Joseph Antony, "what brings you to Inishbawn atall. "

"The way things are with you at present, " said Priscilla, "it wouldn'tbe a bad thing to have a clergyman staying with you on the island. Itwould look respectable. "

"It would, of course, " said Joseph Antony. 

"If any question ever came to be asked, " said Priscilla, "about what'sgoing on here, it would be a grand thing for you to be able to say thatyou had the Rev. Barnabas Pennefather stopping along with you. "

"It would surely, " said Joseph Antony. 

Priscilla jumped out of the boat and drew Kinsella a little way up thebeach. 

"If anything was to come out, " she whispered, "you could say that it wasthe strange clergyman and that you didn't know what was going on. "

"I might, " said Joseph Antony. 

Priscilla turned to the boat joyfully. 

"Hop out, Barnabas, " she shouted, "and take the tents and things withyou. It's all settled. Joseph Antony will give you the run of his islandand you'll be perfectly safe. "

Mr. Pennefather climbed over the bows of the _Tortoise_. 

Lady Isabel tugged at the hold-all, which was tucked away under a thwartand heaved it with a great effort into her husband's arms. He staggeredunder the weight of it. Joseph Antony Kinsella's instinctive politenessasserted itself. 

"Will you let me take that from you?" he said. "The like of them parcelsisn't fit for your reverence to carry. "

Lady Isabel got the rest of her luggage out of the _Tortoise_. Then sheand Mr. Pennefather went to Jimmy Kinsella's boat and unloaded it. Theyhad a good deal of luggage altogether. When everything was stacked onthe beach Mrs. Kinsella, with her baby in her arms, came down and lookedat the pile with amazement. Three small, bare-legged Kinsellas, youngbrothers of Jimmy's, followed her. She turned to Priscilla. 

"Maybe now, " she said, "them ones is after being evicted? Tell me this, was it out of shops or off the land that they did be getting theirliving before the trouble came on them?"

"Arrah, whist, woman, " said Joseph Antony, "have you no eyes in yourhead. Can't you see that the gentleman's a clergyman?"

"Glory be to God!" said Mrs. Kinsella, "and to think now that they'devict the like of him!"

Lady Isabel held out her hand to Priscilla. 

"Goodbye, " she said, "and thank you so much for all you've done. If yousee my mother——"

"We'll see her tonight, " said Priscilla. "I shan't be let in to dinner, but I'll see her afterwards when Aunt Juliet is smoking in the hope ofshocking your father. "

"Don't tell her we're here, " said Lady Isabel. 

"Come along, Frank, " said Priscilla. "I'll help you out of that boat andinto the _Tortoise_. We must be getting home. Goodbye, Miss Rutherford. "

"It really is goodbye this time, " said Miss Rutherford. "I'm offtomorrow morning. "

"Back to London?" said Frank. "Hard luck. "

"To that frowsy old Museum, " said Priscilla, "full of skeletons ofwhales and stuffed antelopes and things. "

"I feel it all acutely, " said Miss Rutherford. "Don't make it worse forme by enumerating my miseries. "

"And I don't believe you've caught a single sponge, " said Priscilla. "Will they be frightfully angry with you?"

"I've got a few, " said Miss Rutherford, "fresh water ones that I caughtbefore I met you. I'll make the most of them. "

"Anyhow, " said Priscilla, "it'll be a great comfort to you to feel thatyou've taken part in a noble deed of mercy before you left. "

"That's something, of course, " said Miss Rutherford, "but you can'tthink how annoying it is to have to go away just at this crisis of theadventure. I shall be longing day and night to hear how it ends. "

"I'll write and tell you, if you like, " said Priscilla. 

"Do, " said Miss Rutherford. "Just let me know whether the sanctuaryremains inviolable and I shall be satisfied. "

"Right, " said Priscilla. "Goodbye We needn't actually kiss each other, need we? Of course, if you want to frightfully you can; but I thinkkissing's rather piffle. "

Miss Rutherford contented herself with wringing Priscilla's hand. Thenshe and Priscilla helped Frank out of Jimmy Kinsella's boat and into the_Tortoise_. 

The wind was due east and was blowing a good deal harder than it waswhen they ran down to Inish-bawn. The _Tortoise_ had a long beat beforeher, the kind of beat which means that a small boat will take in a gooddeal of water. Priscilla passed an oilskin coat to Frank. Having beenwet through by the thunderstorm and having got dry, Frank had no wishto get wet again. He struggled into the coat, pushing his arms throughsleeves which stuck together and buttoned it round him. The _Tortoise_settled down to her work in earnest She listed over until the foamingdark water rushed along her gunwale. She pounded into the short seas, lifted her bow clear of them, pounded down again, breasted them, tookthem fair on the curve of her bow, deluged herself, Frank's oilskin andeven the greater part of her sails with showers of spray. The breezefreshened and at the end of each tack the boat swung round so fastthat Frank, with his maimed ankle, had hard work to scramble over thecentreboard case to the weather side. He slipped and slithered on thewet floor boards. There was a wash of water on the lee side which caughtand soaked whichever leg he left behind him. He discovered that anoilskin coat is a miserably inefficient protection in a small boat. Notthat the seas came through it. That does not happen. But while he madea grab at the flying foresail sheet a green blob of a wave would rush uphis sleeve and soak him elbow high. Or, when he had turned his backto the wind and settled down comfortably, an insidious shower of sprayfound means to get between his coat and his neck, and trickled swiftlydown, saturating his innermost garments to his very waist. Also it isnecessary sometimes to squat with knees bent chinward, and then thereare bulging spaces between the buttons of the coat Seas, leapingjoyfully clear of the weather bow, came plump into his lap. It becamea subject of interesting speculation whether there was a square inch ofhis body left dry anywhere. 

Priscilla, who had no oilskin, got wet quicker but was no wetter in theend. Her cotton frock clung to her. Water oozed out of the tops ofher shoes as she pressed her feet against the lee side of the boat tomaintain her position on the slippery floor boards. She had crammed herhat under the stern thwart. Her hair, glistening with salt water, blewin tangles round her head. Her face glowed with excitement. She wasenjoying herself to the utmost. 

Tack after tack brought them further up the bay. The wind was stillfreshening, but the sea, as they got nearer the eastern shore, becamecalmer. The _Tortoise_ raced through it. Sharp squalls struck heroccasionally. She dipped her lee gunwale and took a lump of solid wateron board. Priscilla luffed her and let the main sheet run through herfingers. The _Tortoise_ bounced up on even keel and shook her sails inan ill-tempered way. Priscilla, with a pull at the tiller, set her onher course again. A few minutes later the sea whitened and frothed towindward and the same process was gone through again. The stone perchwas passed. The tacks became shorter, and the squalls, as the winddescended from the hills, were more frequent. 

But the sail ended triumphantly. Never before had Priscilla rounded upthe _Tortoise_ to her mooring buoy with such absolute precision. Neverbefore had she so large an audience to witness her skill. Peter Walshwas waiting for her at the buoy in Bran-nigan's punt. Patsy the smith, quite sober but still yellow in the face, was standing on the slip. Onthe edge of the quay, having torn themselves from their favourite seat, were all the loafers who usually occupied Brannigan's window sills. Timothy Sweeny had come down from his shop and stood in the background, a paunchy, flabby figure of a man, with keen beady eyes. 

"The weather's broke, Miss, " said Peter Walsh, as he rowed them ashore. "The wind will work round to the southeast and your sailing's done forthis turn. "

"It may not, " said Priscilla, stepping from the punt to the slip, "youcan't be sure about the wind. "

"But it will, Miss, " said one of the loafers, leaning over to speak toher. 

Another and then another of them took up the words. With absoluteunanimity they assured her that sailing next day would be totallyimpossible. 

"Unless you're wanting to drown yourselves, " said Patsy the smithsullenly. 

"The glass has gone down, " said Timothy Sweeny, coming forward. 

"Help the gentleman ashore, " said Priscilla, "and don't croak about theweather. "

"The master was saying today, " said Peter Walsh, "that he'd take the_Tortoise_ out tomorrow, and the gentleman that's up at the house alongwith him. I'd be glad now, Miss, if you'd tell him it'll be no use himwasting his time coming down to the quay on account of the weather beingbroke and the wind going round to the southeast. "

"And the glass going down, " said Sweeny. 

"It'll be better for him to amuse himself some other way tomorrow, " saidPatsy the smith. 

"I'll tell him, " said Priscilla. 

"And if the young gentleman that's with you, " said Peter Walsh, "wouldsay the same I'd be glad. We wouldn't like anything would happen to themaster, for he's well liked. "

"It would be a disgrace to the whole of us, " said Patsy the smith, "ifthe strange gentleman was to be drownded. "

"They'd have it on the papers if anything happened him, " said Sweeny, "and the place would be getting a bad name, which is what I wouldn'tlike on account of being a magistrate. "

Priscilla began to wheel the bath-chair away from the quay. Having gonea few steps she turned and winked impressively at Peter Walsh. Then shewent on. The party on the quay watched her out of sight. 

"Now what, " said Sweeny, "might she mean by that kind of behaviour?"

"It's as much as to say, " said Peter Walsh, "that she knows damn wellwhere it is the master and the other gentleman will be wanting to go. "

"She's mighty cute, " said Sweeny. 

"And what's more, " said Peter Walsh, "she'll stop him if she's able. Forshe doesn't want them out on Inishbawn, no more than we do. "

"Are you sure now that she meant that?" said Sweeny. 

"I'm as sure as if she said it, and surer. "

"She's a fine girl, so she is, " said Patsy the smith. 

"Devil the finer you'd see, " said one of the loafers, "if you was tosearch from this to America. "

This, though a spacious, was a thin compliment. 

There are never, even at the height of the transatlantic tourist season, very many girls between Rosnacree and America. 

"Anyway, " said Sweeny hopefully, "it could be that the wind will goround to the southeast before morning. The glass didn't rise any sincethe thunder. "

"It might, " said Peter Walsh. 

A southeast wind is dreaded, with good reason, in Rosnacree Bay. Itdescends from the mountains in vicious squalls. It catches rushing tidesat baffling angles and lashes them into white-lipped fury. Sturdy islandboats of the larger size, boats with bluff bows and bulging sides, braveit under their smallest lugs. But lesser boats, and especially lightpleasure crafts like the _Tortoise_ do well to lie snug at theirmoorings till the southeasterly wind has spent its strength. 

CHAPTER XX

Timothy Sweeny, J. P. , as suited a man of portly figure and civicdignity, was accustomed to lie long in his bed of a morning. On weekdayshe rose, in a bad temper, at nine o'clock. On Sundays, when he washedand shaved, he was half an hour later and his temper was worse. Anapprentice took down the shutters of the shop on weekdays at half pastnine. By that time Sweeny, having breakfasted, sworn at his wife andabused his children, was ready to enter upon the duties of his calling. 

On the morning after the thunderstorm he was wakened at the outrageoushour of half past seven by the rattle of a shower of pebbles against hiswindow. The room he slept in looked out on the back-yard through whichhis Sunday customers were accustomed to make their way to the bar. Sweeny turned over in his bed and cursed. The window panes rattledagain under another shower of gravel. Sweeny shook his wife intoconsciousness. He bade her get up and see who was in the back-yard. Mrs. Sweeny, a lean harassed woman with grey hair, fastened a dingy pinknightdress round her throat with a pin and obeyed her master. 

"It's Peter Walsh, " she said, after peering out of the window. 

"Tell him to go to hell out of that, " said Sweeny. 

Mrs. Sweeny wrapped a shawl round her shoulders, opened the bottom ofthe window and translated her husband's message. 

"Himself's asleep in his bed, " she said, "but if you'll step into theshop at ten o'clock he'll be glad to see you. "

"I'll be obliged to you, ma'am, " said Peter Walsh, "if you'll wake him, for what I'm wanting to say to him is particular and he'll be sorryafter if there's any delay about hearing it. "

"Will you shut that window and have done talking, " said Sweeny fromthe bed. "There's a draught coming in this minute that would lift thefeathers from a goose. "

Mrs. Sweeny, though an oppressed woman, was not wanting in spirit. Shegave Peter Walsh's message in a way calculated to rouse and irritate herhusband. 

"He says that if you don't get up out of that mighty quick there'll bethem here that will make you. "

"Hell to your soul!" said Sweeny, "what way's that of talking? Ask himnow is the wind in the southeast or is it not?"

"I can tell you that myself, " said Mrs. Sweeny. "It is not; for ifit was it would be in on this window and my hair would be blew off myhead. "

"Ask him, " said Sweeny, "what boats is in the harbor, and then shut downthe window. "

Mrs. Sweeny put her head and shoulders out of the window. 

"Himself wants to know, " she said, "what boats is at the quay. Youneedn't be looking at me like that, Peter Walsh. He's sober enough. Hardfor him to be anything else for he's been in his bed the whole of thenight. "

"Will you tell him, ma'am, " said Peter Walsh, "that there's no boats init only the _Tortoise_, and that one itself won't be there for long forthe wind's easterly and it's a fair run out to Inishbawn. "

Mrs. Sweeny repeated this message. Sweeny, roused to activity at last, flung off the bedclothes. 

"Get out of the room with you, " he said to his wife, "and shut the door. It's down to the kitchen you'll go and let me hear you doing it. "

Mrs. Sweeny was too wise to disobey or argue. She snatched a petticoatfrom a chair near the door and left the room hurriedly. Sweeny went tothe window. 

"What the hell work's this, Peter Walsh?" he said. "Can't you let mesleep quiet in my bed without raising the devil's own delight in myback-yard. If I did right I'd set the police at you. "

"I'll not be the only one the police will be at, " said Peter, "if that'sthe way of it. So there you have it plain and straight. "

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is this. The young lady is off in her own boat. She and theyoung fellow with the sore leg along with her, and she says the masterand the strange gentleman will be down for the _Tortoise_ as soon, asever they have their breakfast ate. That's what I mean and I hope it'sto your liking. "

"Can you not go out and knock a hole in the bottom of the damned boat?"said Sweeny, "or run the blade of a knife through the halyards, or smashthe rudder iron with the wipe of a stone? What good are you if you can'tdo the like of that? Sure there's fifty ways of stopping a man fromgoing out in a boat when there's only one boat for him to go in?"

"There may be fifty ways and there may be more; but I'd be glad if you'dtell me which of them is any use when there's a young police constablesitting on the side of the quay that hasn't lifted his eye off the boatsince five o'clock this morning?"

"Is there that?"

"There is. The sergeant was up at the big house late last night. Isaw him go myself. What they said to him I don't know, but he had theconstable out sitting opposite the boat since five this morning the waynobody'd go near her. "

"Peter Walsh, " said Sweeny, and this time he spoke in a subdued andserious tone, "let you go in through the kitchen and ask herself to giveyou the bottle of whisky that's standing on the shelf under the bar. When you have it, come up here for I want to speak to you. "

"Peter Walsh did as he was told. When he reached the bedroom he foundSweeny sitting on a chair with a deep frown on his face. He was thinkingprofoundly. Without speaking he held out his hand. Peter gave him thewhisky. He swallowed two large gulps, drinking from the bottle. Thenhe set it down on the floor beside him. Peter waited Sweeny's eyes, narrowed to mere slits, were fixed on a portrait of a plump ecclesiasticwhich hung in a handsome gold frame over the chimney piece. His handsstrayed towards the whisky bottle again. He took another gulp. Then, looking round at his visitor, he spoke. 

"Listen to me now, Peter Walsh. Is there any wind?"

"There is surely, a nice breeze from the east and there's a look aboutit that I wouldn't be surprised if it went to the southeast before fulltide. "

"Is there what would upset a boat?"

"There's no wind to upset any boat that's handled right. And you knowwell, Mr. Sweeny, that the master can steer a boat as well as any manabout the bay. "

"Is there wind so that a boat might be upset if so be there happened tobe some kind of mistake and her jibing?"

"There will be that much wind, " said Peter Walsh, "at the top of thetide. But what's the use? Don't I tell you, and don't you know yourselfthat the master isn't one to be making mistakes in a boat?"

"How would it be now if you was in her, you and the strange gentleman, and the master on shore, and you steering? Would she upset then, do youthink?"

"It could be done, of course, but——"

"Nigh hand to one of the islands, " said Sweeny, "in about four footof water or maybe less. I'd be sorry if anything would happen thegentleman. "

"I'd be sorry anything would happen myself. But it's easy talking. Howam I to go in the boat when the master has sent down word that he'sgoing himself?"

Sweeny took another gulp of whisky and again thought deeply. At the endof five minutes he handed the bottle to Peter Walsh. 

"Take a sup yourself, " he said. 

Peter Walsh took a "sup, " a very large "sup, " with a sigh ofappreciation. It had been very trying for him to watch Sweeny drinkingwhisky while he remained dry-lipped. 

"Let you go down to the kitchen, " said Sweeny, "and borrow the loan ofmy shot gun. There's cartridges in the drawer of the table beyond in theroom. You can take two of them. "

"If it's to shoot the master, " said Peter Walsh, "I'll not do it. I've arespect for him ever since——"

"Talk sense. Do you think I want to have you hanged?"

"Hanged or drowned. The way you're talking it'll be both before I'mthrough with this work. "

"When you have the gun, " said Sweeny, "and the cartridges in it, you'llgo round to the back yard where you were this minute and you'll fire twoshots through this window, and mind what you're at, Peter Walsh, forI won't have every pane of glass in the back of the house broke, and Iwon't have the missus' hens killed. Do you think now you can hit thiswindow from where you were standing in the yard?"

"Hit it! Barring the shot scatters terrible I'll put every grain of itinto some part of you if you stay where you are this minute. "

"I'll not be in this chair at the time, " said Sweeny. "I'll be in thebed, and what shots come into the room will go over me with the wayyou'll be shooting. But any way I'll have the mattress and the blanketsrolled up between me and harm. It'll be all the better if there's a fewgrains in the mattress. "

"I don't know, " said Peter Walsh, "that I'll be much nearer drowning thestrange gentleman after I've shot you. But sure I'll do it if you like. "

"When you have that done, " said Sweeny, "and you'd better be quick aboutit—you'll go down to the barrack and tell Sergeant Rafferty that he's tocome round here as quick as he can. The missus'll meet him at the doorof the shop and she'll tell him what's happened. "

"I suppose then you'll offer bail for me, " said Peter Walsh, "for if youdon't, no other one will, and it'll be hard for me to go out upsettingboats if they have me in gaol for murdering you. "

"It's not that she'll tell him, but a kind of a distracted story. She'llhave very little on her at the time. She has no more than an old nightdress and a petticoat this minute. I'm sorry now she has the petticoatitself. If I'd known what would have to be I'd have kept it from her. It doesn't be natural for a woman to be dressed up grand when a lot ofmurdering ruffians from behind the bog has been shooting her husbandhalf the night. "

"Bedam, " said Peter Walsh, "is that the way it is?"

"It is that way. And I wouldn't wonder but there'll be questions askedabout it in Parliament after. "

"You'll be wanting the doctor, " said Peter Walsh, "to be picking theshot out of you. "

"As soon as ever you've got the sergeant, " said Sweeny, "you'll go roundfor the doctor. "

"And what'll he say when there's no shot in you?"

"Say! He'll say what I bid him? Ain't I Chairman of the Board ofGuardians, and doesn't he owe me ten pounds and more this minute, shopdebts. What would he say?

"He's a gentleman that likes a drop of whisky, " said Peter Walsh. 

"I'll waste no whisky on him. Where's the use when I can get what I wantwithout?"

Peter Walsh meditated on the situation for a minute or two. Then thefull splendour of the plan began to dawn on him. 

"The master, " he said, "will be taking down the depositions that you'llbe making in the presence of the sergeant. "

"He will, " said Sweeny, "for there's no other magistrate in the placeonly myself and him, and its against the law for a magistrate to takedown his own depositions and him maybe dying at the time. "

"There'll be only myself then to take the strange gentleman to Inishbawnin the boat. "

"And who's better fit to do it? Haven't you known the bay since you werea small slip of a boy?"

"I have surely. "

"Is there a rock or a tide in it that isn't familiar to you?"

"There is not. "

"And is there a man in Rosnacree that's your equal in the handling of asmall boat?"

"Sorra the one. "

"Then be off with you and get the gun the way I told you. "

At half-past ten Sir Lucius and Lord Torrington drove into the town andpulled up opposite Brannigan's shop. The _Tortoise_ lay at her moorings, a sight which gratified Sir Lucius. After his experience the day beforehe was afraid that Peter Walsh might have beached the boat in order toexecute some absolutely necessary repairs. He congratulated himself onhaving suggested to Sergeant Rafferty that one of the constables shouldkeep an eye on her. 

"There's the boat, Torrington, " he said. "She's small, and there's afresh breeze. But if you don't mind getting a bit wet she'll take usround the islands in the course of the day. If your daughter is anywhereabout we'll see her. "

Lord Torrington eyed the _Tortoise_. He would have preferred a largerboat, but he was a man of determination and courage. 

"I don't care how wet I get, " he said, "so long as I have the chance ofspeaking my mind to the scoundrel who has abducted my daughter. "

"We'll take oilskins with us, " said Sir Lucius, getting out of the trapas he spoke. 

The police sergeant approached him. 

"Well, Rafferty, " said Sir Lucius, "what's the matter with you?"

"Have you any fresh news of my daughter?" said Lord Torrington. 

"I have not, my Lord. Barring what Professor Wilder told me I know nomore. There was a lady belonging to his party out on the bay looking outfor sponges and she came across——"

"You told us all that yesterday, " said Sir Lucius. "What's the matterwith you now?"

"What they say, " said the sergeant cautiously, "is that it's murder. "

"Murder! Good heavens! Who's dead?"

"Timothy Sweeny, " said the sergeant

"It might be worse, " said Sir Lucius. "If the people of this districthave had the sense to kill Sweeny I'll have a higher opinion of them inthe future than I used to have. Who did it?"

"It's not known yet who did it, " said the sergeant, "but there was twoshots fired into the house last night. There's eleven panes of glassbroken and the wall at the far side of the room is peppered with shot, and I picked ten grains of it out of the mattress myself and four out ofthe pillow, without counting what might be in Timothy Sweeny, whichthe doctor is attending to. Number 5 shot it was and Sweeny is moaningterrible. You'd hear him now if you was to step up a bit in thedirection of the house. "

It would, of course, have been highly gratifying to Sir Lucius to hearTimothy Sweeny groan, but, remembering that Lord Torrington was anxiousabout his daughter, he denied himself the pleasure. 

"If he's groaning as loud as you say, " he said, "he can't be quite dead. I don't believe half a charge of No. 5 shot would kill a man like Sweenyanyway. "

"If he's not dead, " said the sergeant, "he's mighty near it, accordingto what the doctor is just after telling me. It's likely enough thatshot would prey on a man that's as stout as Sweeny more than it might ona spare man like you honour or me. The way the shot must have been firedto get Sweeny after the fashion they did is from the top of the wall inthe back yard opposite the bedroom window. By the grace of God there'sfootmarks on the far side of it and a stone loosened like as if some onehad climbed up it. "

"Well, " said Sir Lucius, "I'm sorry for Sweeny, but I don't see that Ican do anything to help you now. If you make out a case against any onecome up to me in the evening and I'll sign a warrant for his arrest. "

"I was thinking, " said the sergeant, "that if it was pleasing to yourhonour, you might take Sweeny's depositions before you go out in theboat; just for fear he might take it into his head to die on us beforeevening; which would be a pity. "

"Is he able to make a deposition?" said Sir Lucius. 

"He's willing to try, " said the sergeant, "but it's badly able to talkhe is this minute. "

Sir Lucius turned to Lord Torrington. 

"This is a confounded nuisance, Torrington, " he said. "I'm afraid I'llhave to ask you to wait till I've taken down whatever lies this fellowSweeny chooses to swear to. I won't be long. "

But Lord Torrington had a proper respect for the forms of law. 

"You can't hurry over a job of that sort, " he said. 

"If the man's been shot at—— Can't I go by myself? I know somethingabout boats. You'll be here for hours. "

"You may know boats, " said Sir Lucius, "but you don't know this bay. "

"Couldn't I work it with a chart? You have a chart, I suppose?"

"No man living could work it with a chart. The rocks in the bay are asthick as currants in a pudding and half of them aren't charted. Besidesthe tides are——"

"Isn't there some man about the place I could take with me?" said LordTorrington. 

Peter Walsh was hovering in the background with his eyes fixed anxiouslyon Sir Lucius and the police sergeant. Sir Lucius looking around caughtsight of him. 

"I'll tell you what I'll do if you like, " said Sir Lucius. "I'll sendPeter Walsh with you. He's an unmitigated blackguard, but he knowsthe bay like the palm of his hand and he can sail the boat Come here, Peter. "

Peter Walsh stepped forward, touching his hat and smiling respectfully. 

"Peter, " said Sir Lucius, "Lord Torrington wants to take a sail roundthe islands in the bay. I can't go with him myself, so you must. Haveyou taken any drink this morning?"

"I have not, " said Peter. "Is it likely I would with Sweeny's shop shuton account of the accident that's after happening to him?"

"Don't you give him a drop, Torrington, while you're on the sea withhim. You can fill him up with whisky when you get home if you like. "

"I wouldn't be for going very far today, " said Peter Walsh. "It looks tome as if it might come on to blow from the southeast. "

"You'll go out to Inishbawn first of all, " said Sir Lucius. "After thatyou can work home in and out, visiting every island that's big enough tohave people on it. The weather won't hurt you. "

"Sure if his lordship's contented, " said Peter, "it isn't for me to bemaking objections. "

"Very well, " said Sir Lucius. "Get the sails on the boat You can tiedown a reef if you like. "

"There's no need, " said Peter. "She'll go better under the whole sail. "

"Now, sergeant, " said Sir Lucius, "I'll just see them start, and thenI'll go back and listen to whatever story Sweeny wants to tell. "

Peter Walsh huddled himself into an ancient oilskin coat, ferried outto the _Tortoise_ and hoisted the sails. He laid her long side the slipwith a neatness and precision which proved his ability to sail a smallboat. Lord Torrington stepped carefully on board and settled himselfcrouched into a position undignified for a member of the Cabinet, on theside of the centreboard case recommended by Peter Walsh. 

"Got your sandwiches all right?" said Sir Lucius, "and the flask? Good. Then off you go. Now, Peter, Inishbawn first and after that whereveryou're told to go. If you get wet, Torrington, don't blame me. Now, sergeant, I'm ready. "

The _Tortoise_, a stiff breeze filling her sails, darted out tomid-channel. Peter Walsh paid out his main sheet and set her runningdead before the wind. 

"It'll come round to the southeast, " he said, "before we're half an hourout. "

Sir Lucius waved his hand. Then he turned and followed the sergeant intoSweeny's house. 

CHAPTER XXI

The _Blue Wanderer_, with her little lug, sailed slowly even when therewas a fresh wind right behind her. It was half-past ten when Priscillaand Frank ran her aground on Inishbawn. Joseph Antony Kinsella had seenthem coming and was standing on the shore ready to greet them. 

"You're too venturesome, Miss, to be coming out all this way in thatlittle boat, " he said. 

"We came safe enough, " said Priscilla, "didn't ship a drop the whole wayout. "

"You came safe, " said Kinsella, "but will you tell me how you're goingto get home again? The wind's freshening and what's more it's drawinground to the southeast. "

"Let it. If we can't get home, we can't, that's all, I suppose Mrs. Kinsella will bake us a loaf of bread for breakfast tomorrow. CousinFrank, you'll have to make Barnabas take you into his tent. He can'tvery well refuse on account of being a clergyman and so more or lesspledged to deeds of charity. I'll curl up in a corner of Lady Isabel'spavilion. By the way, Joseph Antony, how are the young people gettingon?"

"I had my own trouble with them after you left, " said Kinsella. 

"I'm sorry to hear that and I wouldn't have thought it. Barnabas seemedto me a nice peaceable kind of curate. Why didn't you hit him on thehead with an oar? That would have quieted him. "

"I might, of course; and I would; but it was the lady that was giving methe trouble more than him. Nothing would do her right or wrong but she'dhave her tent set up on the south end of the island; and that's whatwouldn't suit me at all. "

Priscilla glanced at the smaller of the two hills which make up theisland of Inishbawn. It stood remote from the Kinsellas' homestead andthe patches of cultivated land, separated from them by a rough causewayof grey boulders. From a hollow in it a thin column of smoke arose, andwas blown in torn wreaths along the slope. 

"It would not suit you a bit, " said Priscilla. 

"What made her want to go there?" said Frank. 

The bare southern hill of Inishbawn seemed to him a singularlyunattractive camping ground. It was a windswept, desolate spot. 

"She took a notion into her head, " said Kinsella, "that his Reverencemight catch the fever if he stopped on this end of the island. "

"Good gracious!" said Frank, "how can any one catch fever here?"

"On account of Mrs. Kinsella and the children having come out all overlarge yellow spots, " said Priscilla. "I hope that will be a lesson toyou, Joseph Antony. "

"What I said was for the best, " said Kinsella. 

"How was I to know she'd be here at the latter end?"

"You couldn't know, of course. Nobody ever can; which is one of thereasons why it's just as well to tell the truth at the start wheneverpossible. If you make things up you generally forget afterwards whatthey are, and then there's trouble. Besides the things you make up veryoften turn against you in ways you'd never expect. It was just the samewith a mouse-trap that Sylvia Courtney once bought, when she thoughtthere was a mouse in our room, though there wasn't really and itwouldn't have done her any harm if there had been. No matter how carefulshe was about tying the string down it used to bound up again and nipher fingers. But Sylvia Courtney never was any good at things likemouse-traps. What she likes is English Literature. "

"How did you stop her going to the far end of the island?" said Frank, "if she thought there was an infectious fever for Mr. Pennefather tocatch——"

"I dare say you mentioned the wild heifer, " said Priscilla. 

"I did not then. What I said was rats. "

"Rather mean of you that, " said Priscilla. "The rats were Peter Walsh'soriginally. You shouldn't have taken them. That's what's called—What isit called, Cousin Frank? Something to do with plagues, I know. Is theresuch a word as plague-ism? Anyhow it's what poets do when they liftother poets' rhymes and it's considered mean. "

"It was me told Peter Walsh about the rats, " said Kinsella, repellingan unjust accusation. "The way they came swimming in on the tide wouldsurprise you, and the gulls picking the eyes out of the biggest of themas they came swimming along. But that wouldn't stop them. "

"I'll just run up and have a word with Barnabas, " said Priscilla. "It'llbe as well for him to know that father and Lord Torrington are out afterhim today in the _Tortoise_. "

"Do you tell me that?" said Kinsella. 

"It'll be all right, " said Priscilla. "They'll never get here. But ofcourse Barnabas may want to make his will in case of accidents. Just youhelp the young gentleman ashore, Kinsella. He can't get along very wellby himself on account of the way Lord Torrington treated him. Then you'dbetter haul the boat up a bit. It's rather beginning to blow and Isee the wind really has got round to the southeast I hardly thought itwould, but it has. Winds so seldom do what everybody says they're goingto. I'm sure you've noticed that. "

She walked up the rough stony beach. A fierce gust, spray-laden andeloquent with promise of rain, swept past her. 

"If I'd known, " said Kinsella sulkily, "that half the country would beout after them ones, I'd have drownded them in the sea and their tentsalong with them before I let them set foot on Inishbawn. "

"Lord Torrington won't do you any harm, " said Frank. "He's only tryingto get back his daughter. "

"I don't know, " said Kinsella, still in a very bad temper, "whatanybody'd want with the likes of that girl. You'd think a man would beglad to get rid of her and thankful to anybody that was fool enoughto take her off his hands. She's no sense. Miss Priscilla has littleenough, but she's young and it'll maybe come to her later. But thatother one—The Lord saves us. "

He helped Frank on shore as he talked. Then he called Jimmy from thecottage. Between them they hauled the _Blue Wanderer_ above high-tidemark. 

"There she'll stay, " said Kinsella vindictively, "for the nexttwenty-four hours anyway. Do you feel that now?"

Frank felt a sudden gust of wind and a heavy splash of rain. The skylooked singularly dark and heavy over the southeastern shore of the bay. Ragged scuds of clouds, low flying, were tearing across overhead. The sea was almost black and very angry; short waves were getting up, curling rapidly over and breaking in yellow foam. With the aid of JimmyKinsella's arm Frank climbed the beach, passed the Kinsella's cottageand made his way to the place where the two tents were pitched. Priscilla was sitting on a camp stool at the entrance of Lady Isabel'stent. The Reverend Barnabas Pennefather, looking cold and miserable, wascrouching at her feet in a waterproof coat. Lady Isabel was going roundthe tents with a hammer in her hand driving the pegs deeper into theground. 

"I'm just explaining to Barnabas, " said Priscilla, "that he's prettysafe here so far as Lord Torrington is concerned. He doesn't seem aspleased as I should have expected. "

"It's blowing very hard, " said Mr. Pennefather, "and it's beginning torain. I'm sure our tents will come down and we shall get very wet Won'tyou sit down, Mr. —Mr——?"

"Mannix, " said Priscilla. "I thought you were introduced yesterday. Hullo! What's that?"

She was gazing across the sea when she spoke. She rose from her campstool and pointed eastwards with her finger. A small triangular patch ofwhite was visible far off between Inishrua and Knockilaun. Frank and Mr. Pennefather stared at it eagerly. 

"It looks to me, " said Priscilla, "very like the _Tortoise_. There isn'tanother boat in the bay with a sail that peaks up like that. If I'mright, Barnabas—But I can't believe that Peter Walsh and Patsy thesmith and all the rest of them would have been such fools as to let themstart. "

A rain squall blotted the sail from view. 

"Perhaps they couldn't help it, " said Frank. "Perhaps Uncle Lucius——"

"Lady Isabel, " shouted Priscilla, "come here at once. She won't come, "she said to Frank, "if she can possibly help it, because she's furiouslyangry with me for asking her why on earth she married Barnabas. Rather anatural question, I thought Barnabas, go and get her. "

Mr. Pennefather, who seemed cowed into a state of profoundsubmissiveness, huddled his waterproof round him and went to LadyIsabel. She was hammering an extra peg through the loop of one of theguy lines of the further tent. 

"Why do you suppose she did it?" said Priscilla. "I couldn't find thatout. It's very hard to imagine why anybody marries anybody else. I oftensit and wonder for hours. But it's totally impossible in this case——"

"Perhaps he preaches very well, " said Frank. "That might have attractedher. "

"Couldn't possibly, " said Priscilla. "No girl—at the same time, ofcourse, she has, which shows there must have been some reason. I say, Cousin Frank, she must be absolutely mad with me. She's dragged Barnabasinto the other tent. Rather a poor lookout for me, considering that Ishall have to sleep with her. There's the _Tortoise_ again. It is the_Tortoise_. There's no mistake about it this time. "

The rain squall had blown over. The _Tortoise_, now plainly visible, wastearing across the foam-flecked stretch of water between Inishrua andKnockilaun. Priscilla ran to the other tent. 

"Lady Isabel, " she said, "if you want to see your father drowned you'dbetter come out. "

Lady Isabel scrambled to the door of her tent and stood, her hair andclothes blown violently, gazing wildly round her. Mr. Pennefather, looking abjectly miserable, crawled after her and remained on his handsand knees at her side. 

"Where's father?" she said. 

"In that boat, " said Priscilla, "but he won't be drowned. I only said hewould so as to get you out of your tent. "

The _Tortoise_ stooped forwards and swept along, the water foaming ather bow and leaping angrily at her weather quarter. A fiercer squallthan usual rushed at her from the western corner of Inishrua as shecleared the island. She swerved to windward, her boom stretched far outto the starboard side dipped suddenly and dragged through the water. She paid off again before the wind in obedience to a strong pull on thetiller. Priscilla grew excited in watching the progress of the boat. 

"Barnabas, " she said, "give me your glasses, quick. I know you have apair, for I saw you watching us through them that day on Inishark. "

Mr. Pennefather had the glasses slung across his shoulder in the leathercase. He handed them to Priscilla. The squall increased in violence. Thewhole sea grew white with foam. A sudden drift of fine spray, blown offthe face of the water, swept over Inishbawn, stinging and soaking thewatchers at the tents. 

"Lord Torrington is on board all right, " said Priscilla, "but it's notfather who's steering. It's Peter Walsh. "

The _Tortoise_ flew forward, dipping her bow so that once or twice thewater lipped over it. She looked pitiful, like a frightened creaturefrom whose swift flight all joy had departed. She reached the narrowpassage between Ardilaun and Inishlean. Before her lay the broad waterof Inishbawn Roads, lashed into white fury. But the worst of the squallwas over. The showers of spray ceased for a moment. It was still blowingstrongly, but the fierceness had gone out of the wind. 

"She's all right now, " said Priscilla, "and anyway there are two lifebuoys on board. "

Then Peter Walsh did an unexpected thing. He put the tiller down andbegan to haul in his main-sheet. The boat rounded up into the wind, headed straight northwards for the shore of Inishlean. She listedheavily, lay over till it seemed as if the sail would touch the water. For an instant she paused, half righted, moved sluggishly towards theshore. Then, very slowly as it seemed, she leaned down again till hersail lay flat in the water. 

At the moment when she righted, before the final heel over, a man flunghimself across the gunwale into the sea. In his hands he grasped one ofthe life buoys. 

"It's father, " shouted Lady Isabel. "Oh, save him!"

"If he'd stuck to the boat, " said Priscilla, "he'd have been all right. She's ashore this minute on the point of Inishlean. Unless Peter Walshhas gone suddenly mad I can't imagine why he tried to round up the boatthere and why he hauled in the main-sheet. He was absolutely bound to goover. "

"Perhaps he wanted to land there, " said Frank. 

"Well, " said Priscilla, "he has landed, but he's upset the boat. I neverthought before that Peter Walsh could be such an absolute idiot. "

The condemnation was entirely unjust Peter Walsh had, in fact, performedthe neatest feat of seamanship of his whole life. Never in the courseof forty years and more spent in or about small boats had he handled onewith such supreme skill and accuracy. Driven desperately by a squallyand uncertain southeast wind, with a welter of short waves knockinghis boat's head about in the most incalculable way, he had succeededin upsetting her about six yards from the shore of an island on to thepoint of which she was certain to drift, with no more than four feet ofwater under her at the critical moment The _Tortoise_, having no ballastin her and depending entirely for stability on her fin-like centreboardwas not, as Peter Walsh knew very well, in the smallest danger ofsinking. He climbed quietly on her gunwale as she finally lay down andsat there, stride-legs, not even wet below the waist, until she groundedon the curved point of the island. The performance was a triumphantdemonstration of Peter Walsh's unmatched skill. 

In one matter only did he miscalculate. Lord Torrington knew somethingabout boats, possessed that little knowledge which is in all great arts, theology, medicine and boat-sailing, a dangerous thing. He knew, afterthe first immersion of the gunwale, when the water flowed in, that theboat was sure to upset. He knew that the greatest risk on such occasionslies in being entangled in some rope and perhaps pinned under the sail. He seized the moment when the _Tortoise_ righted after her first plunge, grasped a life buoy and flung himself overboard. He was just too soon. A moment later and he would have drifted ashore as the boat did on thepoint of Inishlean. If he had let go his life buoy and struck out atonce he might have reached it. But the sudden immersion in cold waterbewildered him. He clung to the life buoy and was drifted past thepoint. 

Then he regained his self-possession and looked round him. As a youngman he had been a fine swimmer and even at the age of fifty-five, withthe cares of an imperial War Office weighing heavily on him, he hadenough presence of mind to realise his situation. A few desperatestrokes convinced him of the impossibility of swimming back to Inishleanagainst the wind and tide. In front of him lay a quarter of a mile ofbroken water. Beyond that was Inishbawn. It was a long swim, too longfor a fully dressed man with no support. But Lord Torrington had a lifebuoy, guaranteed by its maker to keep two men safely afloat. He had astrong wind behind him and a tide drifting him down towards the island. The water was not cold. He realised that all that was absolutelynecessary was to cling to the life buoy, but that he might, if he liked, slightly accelerate his progress by kicking. He kicked hard. 

Joseph Antony Kinsella wanted no more visitors on Inishbawn. Leastof all did he want one whom he knew to be a "high-up gentleman" andsuspected of being a government official of the most dangerous andvenomous kind, but Joseph Antony Kinsella was not the man to see afellow creature drift across Inishbawn Roads without making an effortto help him ashore. With the aid of Jimmy he launched the stout, broad-beamed boat from which Miss Rutherford had fished for sponges. Priscilla raced down from the tents and sprang on board just as Jimmy, knee deep in foaming water, was pushing off. She shipped the rudder. Joseph Antony and Jimmy pulled hard. They forced their way to windwardthrough clouds of spray and before Lord Torrington was half way acrossthe bay Joseph Antony hauled him dripping into the boat. 

Peter Walsh, standing in the water beside the stranded _Tortoise_, sawwith blank amazement that Kinsella turned the boat's head and rowed backagain to Inishbawn. 

"Bedamn, " he said, "but if I'd known that was to be the way it was tobe I might as well have put him ashore there myself and not have wettedhim. "

On the beach at Inishbawn when the boat grounded, were Lady Isabel, Mrs. Kinsella with her baby, the three small Kinsella boys, Frank Mannix, who, to the further injury of his ankle, had hobbled down the hill, andin the far background, the Reverend Barnabas Pennefather. 

Lady Isabel rushed upon her father, flung her arms round his neck andkissed him passionately with tears in her eyes. Lord Torrington did notseem particularly pleased to see her. 

"Hang it all, Isabel, " he said, "I'm surely wet enough. Don't makeme worse by slobbering over me. There's nothing to cry about and nonecessity for kissing. "

"Mrs. Kinsella, " said Priscilla, "go you straight up to the house andget out your husband's Sunday clothes. If he hasn't any Sunday clothes, get blankets and throw a couple of sods of turf on the fire. "

"Glory be to God!" said Mrs. Kinsella. 

Priscilla took Joseph Antony by the arm and led him a little apart fromthe group on the beach. 

"Get some whisky, " she said, "as quick as you can. "

"Whisky!" said Kinsella blankly. 

"Yes, whisky. Bring it in a tin can or anything else that comes handy. "

"Is it a tin can full of whisky? Sure, where could I get the like? Orfor the matter of that where would I get a thimble full? Is it likelynow that there'd be a tin can full of whisky on Inishbawn?"

Priscilla stamped her foot. 

"You've got quarts, " she said, "and gallons. "

"Arrah, talk sense, " said Kinsella. 

"Very well, " said Priscilla. "I don't want to give you away, but ratherthan see Lord Torrington sink into his grave with rheumatic fever forwant of a drop of whisky I'll expose you publicly. Cousin Frank, comehere. "

"Whist, Miss, whist! Sure if I had the whisky I'd give it to you. "

Lord Torrington, with Lady Isabel weeping beside him, was on his wayup to the Kinsellas' cottage. Frank was speaking earnestly to Mr. Pennefather, who seemed disinclined to follow his father-in-law. When heheard Priscilla calling to him he hobbled towards her. 

"Cousin Frank, " she said, "here's a man who grudges poor Lord Torringtona drop of whisky to save his life, although for weeks past he hasbeen—what is it you do when you make whisky? I forget the word. It isn'tbrew. "

Frank, vaguely recollecting the advertisements which appear in ourpapers, suggested that the word was required "pot". 

Priscilla pointed an accusing finger at Kinsella. 

"Here's a man, " she said, "who for the last fortnight has been pottingwhisky—what a fool you are, Cousin Frank! Distil is the word. JosephAntony Kinsella has been distilling whisky on this island for the lastmonth as hard as ever he could. He's been shipping barrels full ofit underneath loads of gravel into Rosnacree, and now he's trying topretend he hasn't got any. Did you ever hear such utter rot in yourlife? I'm not telling Lord Torrington yet, Joseph Antony; but in aminute or two I will unless you go and get a good can full. "

"For the love of God, Miss, " said Kinsella, "say no more. I'll try if Ican find a sup somewhere for the gentleman. But as for what you're aftersaying about distilling——"

"Hurry up, " said Priscilla threateningly. 

Kinsella went off at a sharp trot towards the south end of the island. 

"Of course, " said Priscilla in a calmer tone, "he really may not haveany more. That might have been the last barrel which I saw under thegravel the day before yesterday when our anchor rope got foul of thecentreboard. I don't expect it was quite the last, but it may have been. It's very hard to be sure about things like that. However, if it was thelast he'll just have to turn to and distil some more. I don't supposeit takes very long, and there was a fire burning on the south end of theisland this morning. I saw it. "

Half an hour later Lord Torrington, wrapped in two blankets and apatchwork quilt, clothing which he had chosen in preference to JosephAntony's Sunday suit, was sitting in front of a blazing fire in theKinsellas' kitchen. He held in his hand a mug full of raw spirit and hotwater, mixed in equal proportions. Each time he sipped at it he coughed. Priscilla sat beside him with a bottle from which she offered toreplenish the mug after each sip. Lady Isabel, looking frightened butobstinate, stood opposite him, holding the Reverend Barnabas Pennefatherby the hand. 

CHAPTER XXII

"To Miss Martha Rutherford, Sponge Department, British Museum, London. 

"My dear Miss Rutherford—Having promised to write you the dénouement, I do, of course; though the delay is longer than I expected whenpromising. It was most exciting. Peter Walsh upset the _Tortoise_—onpurpose I now think—but no one else has said so _yet_—and LordTorrington swam for his life while his lovely daughter wrung her lilyhands in shrill despair, this being the exact opposite of what was thecase with Lord Ullin's daughter. Joseph Antony Kinsella and Jimmy and Irescued the drowning mariner in your boat. Frank would have done so too, for he says he never rescued any one from a watery grave—though he wona prize for life-saving in his swimming bath at school and I thinkhe wanted to get a medal—but none of us have as yet, nor won't—buthe couldn't get down the hill quick enough on account of his sprainedankle, so we were off without him. I jolly well ballyragged JosephAntony Kinsella until he opened his last cask of illicit whisky. 'Illicit' is what both father and Lord Torrington called it and at firstI didn't know what that meant, but I looked it out in the dict. And nowdo know, also how to spell it, which I shouldn't otherwise. Then we hada most frightful scene in Joseph Antony Kinsella's cottage. Lady Isabelwas splendid. I never knew any one could be in love so much, especiallywith Barnabas. The salt sea was frozen on her cheeks (it had beenraining hard), and the salt tears in her eyes. Sylvia Courtney toldme that that poem was most affecting, so I read it Have you? LordTorrington was frightfully stony-hearted at first and finished two mugsof illicit whisky (with hot water), coughing and swearing the wholetime. Barnabas crawled. Then Mrs. Kinsella made tea and hot pancakes inspite of the baby, which screamed; and all was gay, though there wasno butter. Peter Walsh came in while we were at tea, having righted the_Tortoise_ and bailed her out, but he and Joseph Antony Kinsellawent off together, which was just as well, for there weren't too manypancakes, and Lord Torrington, when he began to soften down a bit, turned out to be hungry. In the end we all went home together in JosephAntony Kinsella's big boat, Lord Torrington having put on his clothesagain and father's oilskins, which were providentially saved from thewreck. Lady Isabel and Barnabas held each other's hands the whole timein a way that I thought rather disgusting, though Cousin Frank says itis common enough among those in that state. I hope I never shall be; butof course I may. One can't be really sure beforehand. Anyhow I shan'tlike it if I am. Lady Isabel did, which made it worse. Father met us atthe quay and said he didn't believe there was a single grain of shot inthe whole of Timothy Sweeny's fat body and that the entire thing was aplant I didn't understand this at the time, though now I do; but it'stoo long to write; though it would interest you if written. 

"For days and days Lady Torrington was more obdurate than the winterwind and the serpent's tooth. She said those two things often and often, and the one about the winter wind shows that she has read 'As YouLike It. ' I don't know the one about the serpent's tooth. It may be inShakespeare, but is _not_ in Wordsworth's 'Excursion. ' I think she meantLady Isabel, not herself. Barnabas slept in the Geraghtys' gate lodge, a bed being made up for him and food sent down, though he was let in tolunch with us after a time. There were terrific consultations which Idid not hear, being of course regarded as a child. Nor did Cousin Frank, which was rather insulting to him, considering that he can behave quitelike a grown up when he tries. But all came right in the end. We thinkthat Lord Torrington has promised to make Barnabas a bishop in the army, which Cousin Frank says he can do quite easily if he likes, being thehead of the War Office. Father kept harping on, especially at luncheon, when Barnabas was there, to find out why they fled to Rosnacree. Rose, the under housemaid, told me that it came out in the end that LadyIsabel simply went to the man at Euston station and asked for a ticketto the furthest off place he sold tickets to. This, may be true. Rose heard it from Mrs. Geraghty, who came up every day to hook LadyTorrington's back. But I doubt it myself. There must be further offplaces than Rosnacree, though, of course, not many. At one time therethreatened to be rather a row about our not giving up the fugitivesto justice, and Aunt Juliet tried to say nasty things about aiding andabetting (whatever they mean). But I said that wouldn't have happenedbecause we didn't particularly care for Lady Isabel and simply loathedBarnabas, if it hadn't been for the dastardly way Lord Torringtonsprained Frank's ankle, so that they had no one to blame but themselves. Lord Torrington, who isn't really a bad sort at times, quite saw thisand said he wouldn't have sprained Frank's ankle if he hadn't been upsetat the time on account of Lady Isabel's having eluded his vigilance andescaped. This just shows how careful we ought to be about our lightestand most innocent actions. No one would expect any dire results to comeof simply spraining a young man's ankle on a steamer; but they did;which is the way many disasters occur and often we don't find out whyeven afterwards, though in this case Lord Torrington did, thanks to me. 

"Joseph Antony Kinsella and Peter Walsh and Timothy Sweeny and Patsythe smith came up one day on a deputation with a donkey load of turffor father and Lord Torrington, which seemed curious, but wasn't, reallybecause there were bottles and bottles of illicit whisky under theturf. Lord Torrington made a speech to them and said that all would beforgiven and forgotten and that he would leave the whisky in his will tohis grandson, who might drink it perhaps; which shows, we think, thathe is taking Barnabas to his heart, or else he would hardly be saving upthe whisky in the way he said he would. So, as Shakespeare says, 'All'swell that ends well. '

"Your affect, friend, "Priscilla Lentaigne. "

"P. S. —I couldn't write while they were here on account of thethunderous condition of the atmosphere and not knowing exactly howthings would turn out, which is the cause of your not getting thisletter sooner. Since they left, Barnabas and all, Aunt Juliet hasdropped being a suffragette in disgust (you can't wonder after theway Lady Isabel turned out to have deceived her) and has taken upappendicitis warmly. She says it's far more important really than uricacid or fresh air, and is thinking of going up to Dublin next week foran operation. Father says it was bound to be either that or spiritualismbecause they are the only two things left which she hadn't tried. It'srather unlucky, I think, for Aunt Juliet, being so very intellectual. I'm glad I'm not. "

THE END