I was not altogether surprised at her confession, but in spite of that it gave me a very pleasant feeling of relief. "Perhaps he is an old friend of your uncle's?" I suggested. She shook her head. "He was an utter stranger to both of us. My uncle was taken ill with one of his heart attacks the day after we arrived, and somebody from the hotel suggested my sending for Dr. Manning. I am quite certain that they had never met before in their lives." "If that's the case," I observed, "he needs kicking even more than I imagined." Once again a faint shade of colour crept into her face, and then died away again almost at once. "Listen, Mr. Dryden," she continued, "what I want to say to you has nothing to do with anything that you may have seen yesterday. That doesn't matter in the least. You have got to think entirely of your own safety. I believe that by asking Dr. Manning to the island you are putting yourself in the greatest possible danger." "It seems to be the general opinion," I admitted. "At least, both Bascomb and Bobby Dean--" I paused. "By the way, I haven't told you about Bobby Dean yet, have I?" She shook her head. "I have been carrying out your instructions," I explained. "You ordered me to dig up a friend, and I have found the one man in the world who exactly fits the part." "Who is he?" she demanded eagerly. "Well, to give him his full title," I said, "he's Commander Robert Dean, V.C., of His Majesty's Navy. To save time I generally call him Bobby. We were serving together during the war, and, as luck would have it, he has just been shifted back here in charge of the Coast Patrol at Harwich." "Oh, but that's splendid," she exclaimed thankfully. "Is he going to live with you on the island?? "I should like him to," I said, "but I am afraid the Admiralty might object. They are a conservative lot, and they always expect their employees to sleep over the shop. I shall be seeing a good deal of him though," I added, quickly, as a sudden shadow of disappointment again clouded her eyes. "He is constantly round here in his boat, and if I want him in a hurry any time I have only got to send him a wire." There was a pause. "Does he--does he know that--" She stopped, as if not quite certain how to finish the question. "I didn't think it necessary to tell him everything," I said. "He knows about my being chucked into the dock, and he knows what I think of Dr. Manning. As I look at it, the rest of the story only concerns ourselves." I saw that she was on the point of interrupting me, so I went straight on, without giving her the chance of speaking. "Anyhow, I am not going to talk about myself all the time. There are several much more important things I want to discuss, and one's the fact that you appear to be risking your life every morning before breakfast in a way that I strongly disapprove of." She looked at me for a moment in evident bewilderment. "Do you mean my swimming?"