he wasn't the man
who was after them."

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

"That's probably to disguise his feelings. Spies are always kept dead
secrets and if possible not let into the newspapers. Perhaps even your
father hasn't been told. He doesn't appear to be head boss, and they
mightn't mention it to him. That's what makes it such an absolutely
gorgeous scoop for us. We'll get off as early as we can tomorrow. You
couldn'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 that
bath-chair."

"Not a little bit I'll get hold of Rose before I go to bed, and tell her
to 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 bad
tooth. We can pick up some biscuits and things at Brannigan's as we
pass. There's a good chunk of cold salmon somewhere, for we only ate
quite a small bit at dinner tonight I'll nail it if I can keep awake
till the cook's in bed, but I don't know can I. This kind of excitement
makes 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. Sleepiness
is 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 just
have 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 saw
we were after them. Nobody can deny that. That may be because they're
pretending, too. I daresay they find it pretty dull being stuck on an
island all day, though, of course, it must be rather jolly cooking your
own food and