once she leaned towards me and said
in a low beseeching voice--

"You will come back, won't you?"

"I swear it!" I answered fervently, and to give force to my oath I
gently took her hand and pressed it. If it did not return the
pressure, it at least did not shrink from my clasp. And for the rest
of the way I sat holding it.

Presently I in turn leaned towards her and whispered--

"One thing I have been wondering. Should I take Tiel with me to see
Wiedermann? It might perhaps be expected."

"No!" she replied emphatically.

"You feel sure?"

For reply she very gently pressed my hand at last. So confident did I
feel of her sure judgment that I considered that question settled.

"By the way," she said in a moment, "I think perhaps it might be
advisable to say nothing to Commander Wiedermann about me. It is quite
unnecessary, and he--well, some men are always suspicious if they think
there is a woman in the case. Of course I admit they sometimes have
enough excuse, but--what do you think?"

"I agree with you entirely," I said emphatically.

I know Wiedermann very intimately, and had been divided in mind whether
I should drop a little hint that there were consolations, or whether I
had better not. Now I saw quite clearly I had better not.

"What's that?" said Eileen in a moment.

It was a tall gaunt monolith close to the roadside, and then, looking
round, I saw a loch on the other side, and remembered the spot with a
start. It was close by here that my cycle had broken down, and we were
almost at the end of our drive. Round the corner we swung, straight
for the sea, until we stopped where the road ended at the edge of the
links.

I gave Eileen's hand one last swift pressure, and jumped out.

"We shall wait for you here," said Tiel in a low voice, "but don't be
longer than you can help. Remember my nerves!"

He spoke so cheerily and genially, that for the moment I liked him
again. In fact, if it had not been for Eileen, and his love of
mystery, there was much that was very attractive in Tiel. As I set out
on my solitary walk down to the shore, I suddenly wondered what made
him so cheerful and bright at this particular moment, for it did not
strike me as an exhilarating occasion. And then I was reminded of the
man I had known most like Tiel, a captain I once served under, who was
silence and calmness itself at most times, but grew strangely genial on
critical occasions--a heaven-sent gift. But