ere's anything to
be discovered. I'll go now; damme, if I don't. We'll both go."

Sir Charles jumped up forthwith. He was a short, stout man, with
bushy, magisterial eyebrows, a red complexion, a bald head, a monocle,
and a fierce don't-argue-with-me-sir manner.

He was a man who had but one topic of conversation--the coming German
invasion. It would not be his fault if the Germans found Little
Compton unprepared. He had pointed out that, being an East Coast
village, it lay in the very centre of the battle-ground. At first
Little Compton had felt uncomfortable; but later it had apparently
become reconciled to its fate. It did nothing.

No village in England knew better what invasion would mean. Sir
Charles had drawn a vivid picture of what would be the fate of the
women of Little Compton unless their men-folk repelled the invaders,
with the result that the Dorcas Society, with the full approval of the
vicar, wrote to Sir Charles protesting against such things being said
on a public platform.

As he trotted towards the door, Sir Charles turned to the sergeant and
said:

"This is a big business, Wrannock, a big business. We'll find out more
before we communicate with headquarters. See?" And Sir Charles glared
fiercely at the sergeant.

Sergeant Wrannock did see. He saw many things, including promotion for
himself, and he replied, "It is indeed, sir!" And the two men went out.

From The Towers to Holmleigh is not more than half a mile. Sir Charles
went first, leaving the sergeant to follow on his bicycle. If they
were seen together it might arouse suspicion.

Sir Charles was to go to Holmleigh, making the best excuse he could
think of, and spy out the land, and the sergeant, who fortunately was
not in uniform, was to follow half an hour later. At six o'clock they
were to meet at The Towers and compare notes.

On his way up the drive of Holmleigh Sir Charles met Mr. Gandy coming
away with a flushed and angry face. For the first time in history his
"look" had failed. He had been insulted, and that by a foreman
pantechnicon-man.

Sir Charles acknowledged Mr. Gandy's salute, attaching no significance
to the presence of the host of the Dove and Easel in the grounds of
Holmleigh. Most probably he had called to solicit the new tenant's
custom. So Mr. Gandy passed down the drive with a stormy face, and Sir
Charles walked up with a determined one.

The hall door was open, and men were passing to an