I was in no immediate hurry to get home, and, apart from that, there was the chance that if I started at once I might overtake Christine on her way back to Pen Mill. Attractive as this prospect was, I had a regrettable conviction that it would be altogether against her wishes, so, strolling across the road, I entered the open door of the White Hart Hotel, where in bygone days Bobby and I had been accustomed to refresh our war-worn energies with occasional bouts of snooker. I found a marker in attendance, a little rabbity-faced man with an unpleasant habit of potting the black from every conceivable angle. He beat me handsomely in both the games we played, and, having paid tribute to his skill in the shape of a large tankard of beer, I set out in a chastened mood on my return journey. It must have been close on six o'clock by the time I reached the harbour. For once in a way there was no sign of Jimmy, so, going up to where my boat was moored, I began to unfasten the painter. I was engaged on this task when he suddenly appeared from the back door of the inn, and came hurrying up the jetty wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Sorry I weren't 'ere, guv'nor," he began. "I'd just gorn inside to 'ave me tea." As though in proof of this assertion, he gulped down what seemed to be a large portion of the interrupted banquet. "Quite right," I said. "One can't do really good work without plenty of nourishment." I handed him his usual retaining fee, and stepped down into the boat. "I have got a little job for you, Jimmy," I added. "I suppose you're the sort of boy who can keep his mouth shut?" A reassuring nod was the prompt answer. "Do you know Miss de Roda by sight?" I asked him. "The young lady who has come to live at 'The Laurels'?" There was a brief pause. "Wot, 'er with the pretty faice?" he enquired. "That's the one," I said. "Well, some day she may give you a note for me. If she does, will you bring it over to the island at once?" He nodded again. "You'll get it all right, guv'nor; you can trust me for that." "And don't talk about it to anybody, will you, Jimmy?" I added. "Not even to your own pals?" "Not me," he said stoutly. "There ain't no one who can keep a secret better'n wot I can." There was a ring of pride in his voice which inspired confidence, and, under the comforting impression that I had established a reliable line of communication, I pulled off down the creek. When I got back to the house I found a letter for me lying on the hall table. As I picked it up the green baize door which led down to the pantry opened quietly, and Bascomb came in with a plate basket on his arm. "The postman brought that letter this afternoon, sir. 'E 'ad to call about some registration papers 'e wanted filled in." I turned the envelope over, and saw the name of Wilmot and Drayton stamped on the flap. "How about this evening?" I asked him. "Have you managed to get us a decent meal?"