“Dreymarsh,” her visitor proceeded, “having been constituted, during the last few months, a protected area, it is my duty to examine and enquire into the business of any stranger who appears here. Mr. Hamar Lessingham has been largely accepted without comment, owing to his friendship with you. I regret to state, however, that certain facts have come to my knowledge which make me wonder whether you yourself may not in some measure have been deceived.” “This sounds very ridiculous,” Philippa interposed quietly. “A few weeks ago,” Captain Griffith continued, “we received information that this neighbourhood would probably be visited by some person connected with the Secret Service of Germany. There is strong evidence that the person in question is Mr. Hamar Lessingham.” “A graduate of Magdalen, my brother's intimate friend, and a frequent visitor at my father's house in Cheshire,” Philippa observed, with faint sarcasm. “The possibility of your having made a mistake, Lady Cranston,” Captain Griffiths rejoined, “has, I must confess, only just occurred to me. The authorities at Magdalen College have been appealed to, and no one of the name of Lessingham was there during any one of your brother's terms.” Philippa took the blow well. She simply stared at her caller in a noncomprehending manner. “We have also information,” he continued gravely, “from Wood Norton Hall--from your mother, in fact, Lady Cranston--that no college friend of your brother, of that name, has ever visited Wood Norton.” “Go on,” Philippa begged, a little faintly. “Did I ever live there myself? Was Richard ever at Magdalen?” Captain Griffiths proceeded with the air of a man who has a task to finish and intends to do so, regardless of interruptions. “I have had some conversation with Mr. Lessingham, in the course of which I asked him to explain his method of reaching here, and his last habitation. He simply fenced with me in the most barefaced fashion. He practically declined to give me any account of himself.” Philippa rose and rang the bell. “I suppose I must give you some tea,” she said, “although you seem to have come here on purpose to make my head ache.” “My object in coming here,” Captain Griffiths rejoined, a little stiffly, “is to save you some measure of personal annoyance.” “Oh, please don't think that I am ungrateful,” Philippa begged. “Of course, it is all some absurd mistake, and I'm sure we shall get to the bottom of it presently--Tell me what you think of the storm?” she added, as Mills entered with the tea tray. “Do you think it will get any worse, because I am terrified to death already?” “I am no judge of the weather here,” he confessed. “I believe the fishermen are preparing for something unusual.” She seated herself before the tea tray and insisted upon performing her duties as hostess. Afterwards she laid her hand upon his arm and addressed him with an air of complete candour.