"Who are you, then?" he demanded. "Who are you, sir?""I am Captain Granet of the Royal Fusiliers, back from the Front, wounded,"Granet replied. "I can assure you that I am a perfectly trustworthy person.""But I don't understand," Sir Meyville said sharply. "What are you doing here?""I came to call upon your daughter," Granet explained. "I had the pleasure of meeting her at lunch at Lady Anselman's the other day. We have been playing golf together at Brancaster."Sir Meyville began to mumble to himself as he pushed them into the boat.
"My fault," he muttered,--"my fault. Captain Granet, I thought that my daughter knew my wishes. I am not at present in a position to receive guests or visitors of any description. You will pardon my apparent inhospitality. Ishall ask you, sir, to kindly forget this visit and to keep away from here for the present.
"I shall obey your wishes, of course, sir," Granet promised. "I can assure you that I am quite a harmless person, though.""I do not doubt it, sir," Sir Meyville replied, "but it is the harmless people of the world who do the most mischief. An idle word here or there and great secrets are given away. If you will allow me, I will show you a quicker way down the avenue, without going to the house."Granet shrugged his shoulders.
"Just as you will, sir," he assented.
"You can go in, Isabel," her father directed curtly. "I will see Captain Granet off."She obeyed and took leave of her guest with a little shrug of the shoulders.
Sir Meyville took Granet's arm and led him down the avenue.
"Captain Granet," he said gravely, "I am an indiscreet person and I have an indiscreet daughter. Bearing in mind your profession, I may speak to you as man to man. Keep what you have seen absolutely secret. Put a seal upon your memory. Go back to Brancaster and don't even look again in this direction.
The soldiers round this place have orders not to stand on ceremony with any one, and by to-night I believe we are to have an escort of Marines here as well. What you have seen is for the good of the country.""I congratulate you heartily, sir," Granet replied, shaking hands. "Of course I'll keep away, if I must. I hope when this is all over, though, you will allow me to come and renew my acquaintance with your daughter.""When it is over, with pleasure," Sir Meyville assented.
Granet stepped into his car and drove off. The inventor stood looking after him. Then he spoke to the sentry and made his way across the gardens towards the boat-shed.
"I ought to have known it from the first," he muttered. "Reciprocal refraction was the one thing to think about."Granet, as he drove back to the Dormy House, was conscious of a curious change in the weather. The wind, which had been blowing more or less during the last few days, had suddenly dropped. There was a new heaviness in the atmosphere, little banks of transparent mist were drifting in from seawards. More than once he stopped the car and, standing up, looked steadily away seawards. The long stretch of marshland, on which the golf links were situated, was empty.
A slight, drizzling rain was falling. He found, when he reached the Dormy House, that nearly all the men were assembled in one of the large sitting-rooms. A table of bridge had been made up. Mr. Collins was seated in an easy-chair close to the window, reading a review. Granet accepted a cup of tea and stood on the hearth-rug.
"How did the golf go this afternoon?" he inquired.
"I was dead off it," Anselman replied gloomily.
"Our friend in the easy-chair there knocked spots off us."Mr. Collins looked up and grunted and looked out of the window again.
"Either of you fellows going to cut in at bridge?" young Anselman continued.
Granet shook his head and walked to the window.
"I can't stick cards in the daytime."
Mr. Collins shut up his review.
"I agree with you, sir," he said. "I endeavoured to persuade one of these gentlemen to play another nine holes--unsuccessfully, I regret to state."Granet lit a cigarette.
"Well," he remarked, "it's too far to get down to the links again but I'll play you a game of bowls, if you like."The other glanced out upon the lawn and rose to his feet.
"It is an excellent suggestion," he declared. "If you will give me five minutes to fetch my mackintosh and galoshes, it would interest me to see whether I have profited by the lessons I took in Scotland."They met, a few moments later, in the garden. Mr. Collins threw the jack with great precision and they played an end during which his superiority was apparent. They strolled together across the lawn, well away now from the house. For the first time Granet dropped his careless tone.
"What do you make of this change in the weather?" he asked quickly.
"It's just what they were waiting for," the other replied. "What about this afternoon?""I am not scientist, worse luck," Granet replied impatiently, "but I saw enough to convince me that they've got the right idea. Sir Meyville thought i was the man commanding the escort they've given him,--actually rowed me out to the workshop and showed me the whole thing. I tell you I saw it just as you described it,--saw the bottom of the sea, even the colour of the seaweed, the holes in the rocks.""And they've got the shells, too," Collins muttered, "the shells that burst under water."Granet looked around. They were playing the other end now.
"Listen!" he said.
They paused in the middle of the lawn. Granet held up his handkerchief and turned his cheek seaward. There was still little more than a floating breath of air but his cheek was covered with moisture.
"I have everything ready," he said. "Just before we go to bed to-night Ishall swear that I hear and aeroplane. You're sure your watch is right to the second, Collins?""I am as sure that it is right," the other replied grimly, "as I am that to-night you and I my young friend, are going to play with our lives a little more carelessly than with this china ball. A good throw, that I think," he went on, measuring it with his eye carefully. "Come, my friend, you'll have to improve. My Scotch practice is beginning to tell."Geoffrey Anselman threw up the window and looked out.
"Pretty hot stuff, isn't he Ronnie?" he asked.
Granet glanced at his opponent, with his bent shoulders, his hard face, hooked nose and thin gold spectacles.
"Yes," he admitted quietly, "he's too good for me."
