suit of mufti."

Presently Tiel came in and I put the demand to him at once. He looked
a little surprised, but, somewhat to my surprise, raised no serious
objections. His motives are hard to fathom, but I cannot help
suspecting that despite his air of self-confidence and authority, he
has an instinctive respect for an officer and acknowledges in his heart
that I am really his superior.

"You mustn't go outside the house, of course," he said, "and if by any
evil chance any visitor were to come in unexpectedly, you must have
some kind of a story ready."

"Have you had many visitors yet?" I asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"You never know your luck," said he, "and I believe in guarding against
all chances. If you are surprised, please remember that your name is
Mr Wilson."

"Wilson?" I said with some disgust. "Am I named in honour of that
swine in America?"

"You are named Wilson," said he, "because it is very like Watson and
Williams and several other common names. The less conspicuous and more
easily forgotten a name one takes, the better."

There is no doubt about the thoroughness of the man and the cunning
with which he lays even the smallest plans, and though I was a little
contemptuous of his finesse at the moment, I must confess I was
thankful enough for it not so very long afterwards.

"As for your business," added Tiel, "you are a Government inspector."

"Of what?" I asked.

"If you are asked, look deep and say nothing," said he. "The islands
are full of people on what they call in the Navy 'hush' jobs."

"You seem pretty intimately acquainted with the British Navy down to
its slang," I observed.

My nerves were perhaps a little strained this morning, and I meant by
this to make a sarcastic allusion to the kind of blackguards he dealt
with--such as Ashington. I glanced at Eileen as I spoke, and I was
surprised to see a sudden look, almost of alarm, in her eye. It was
turned on Tiel, but he appeared absolutely indifferent. I presumed she
feared he might take offence and make a row, but she need not have
worried. It would take a very pointed insult to rouse that calculating
machine.

"Can you get a suit of mufti for me?" I inquired.

"I'll look one out presently," said he.

"I presume you keep a few disguises!" I added.

"A few," said he with one of his brief smiles. "You had better go up
to your room in the meantime, and I'll bring it to you."

I fumed at the idea of any delay, and a