There was another and longer pause. "What are your plans?" she asked at length "What are you going to do?" "I propose to carry on the family traditions," I replied. "I've chucked my job with the Planet people, and I am going to settle down on Greensea Island and see how I like it." The look of troubled distress deepened in her face. "You mean to live there--alone?" "It depends how I get along with the dog and the prize-fighter," I said. "If they turn out amiable I shall probably invite them to stay on." Christine pushed away her untasted cup of coffee and drew her chair a little nearer the table. "Mr. Dryden," she said again, "you were telling me the truth just now. You do honestly believe that I am trying to act in your own interests?" "I trust you from the bottom of my heart," I answered simply. "Then, whatever you do, don't go to Greensea Island by yourself. Take some friend with you--somebody that you can absolutely rely on. I can't explain, but there are reasons which would make it very unsafe for you to be there alone." She hesitated for a moment. "It's even possible you might be in danger of your life." "Isn't it just a little late to tell me that?" I asked. Her hand, which was resting on the cloth, suddenly tightened. "What do you mean?" "Why," I said, "it's only by the grace of heaven and an exceptionally thick skull that I happen to be here now. When I was on my way back to the ship after seeing Mr. Drayton, somebody banged me on the head from behind and threw me into the dock. It was about the most honest attempt at murder that ever managed to go astray." The horror and amazement in her eyes were quite obviously genuine. "But it's impossible," she broke out; "impossible!" "It's true enough," I returned. "If you don't believe me, I can show you the crack in my skull." She stared at me with the same expression of frightened bewilderment. "I--I don't understand," she faltered. "I am sure you don't," I said. "Neither do I. Still, the fact remains that there's someone strolling around with an unsatisfied longing for my blood, and I suppose they are just as likely as not to follow me down to Greensea." I paused. "Would you advise me not to go there at all?" I asked deliberately. For a moment she made no answer. She seemed to be torn by some inward conflict that was plainly visible in her face. "No, no," she replied, almost in a whisper. "The place is yours, and----" She broke off with a little helpless gesture of her hands. "Oh, I don't know what to say," she finished wretchedly. "You must go if you want to. I can't tell you any more." "You have told me quite enough," I said gratefully. "If I don't manage to take care of myself now, I shall deserve everything I get." The clock on the wall began to strike three. With a slight start she glanced up at it; then, pushing back her chair, she rose suddenly to her feet. I made a movement as if to accompany her.