“And don't get drowned,” she concluded. “I don't know any of these fishermen--I hate them all--but I'm told that Oates is the worst.” “I think that we shall be quite all right,” he assured her. “Thanks very much for finding me the charts. What I have seen will help me.” Helen came in for a moment and their farewell was more or less perfunctory. Lessingham was almost thankful to escape. There was an unusual flush in his cheeks, a sense of bitter humiliation in his heart. All the fervour with which he had started on his perilous quest had faded away. No sense of duty or patriotism could revive his drooping spirits. He felt himself suddenly an unclean and dishonoured being. CHAPTER XXI Towards three o'clock on the following afternoon, the boisterous wind of an uncertain morning settled down to worse things. It tore the spray from the crest of the gathering waves, dashed it even against the French windows of Mainsail Haul, and came booming down the open spaces cliffwards, like the rumble of some subterranean artillery. A little group of fishermen in oilskins leaned over the railing and discussed the chances of Ben Oates bringing his boat in safely. Philippa, also, distracted by a curious anxiety, stood before the blurred window, gazing into what seemed almost a grey chaos. “Captain Griffiths, your ladyship.” She turned around quickly at the announcement. Even an unwelcome caller at that moment was almost a relief to her. “How nice of you to come and see me on such an afternoon, Captain Griffiths,” she exclaimed, as they shook hands. “Helen is over at the Canteen, Nora is hard at work for once in her life, and I seem most dolefully alone.” Her visitor's reception of Philippa's greeting promised little in the way of enlivenment. He seemed more awkward and ill at ease than ever, and his tone was almost threatening. “I am very glad to find you alone, Lady Cranston,” he said. “I came specially to have a few words with you on a certain matter.” Her momentary impulse of relief at his visit passed away. There seemed to her something sinister in his manner. She was suddenly conscious that there was a new danger to be faced, and that this man's attitude towards her was, for some reason or other, inimical. After the first shock, however, she prepared herself to do battle. “Well, you seem very mysterious,” she observed. “I haven't broken any laws, have I? No lights flashing from any of my windows?” “So far as I am aware, there are no complaints of the sort,” the Commandant acknowledged, still speaking with an unnatural restraint. “My call, I hope, may be termed, to some extent, at least, a friendly one.” “How nice!” she sighed. “Then you'll have some tea, won't you?” “Not at present, if you please,” he begged. “I have come to talk to you about Mr. Hamar Lessingham.” “Really?” Philippa exclaimed. “Whatever has that poor man been doing now.”