I had noticed that in one of the drawers there was a key, and as I took the coat I said,
“I hope you won’t think me unduly cautious if I lock my uniform coat up in one of these drawers. There are certain papers in the pockets which I am bound to be careful of.”
Again I fancied I caught a brief look of surprise, but it must have been very brief, for his face was as inscrutable as ever as he answered,
“Do exactly as you like.”
A maid came with a jug of hot water and then I was alone.
“I wonder if the man believes me?” I said to himself. “Things are going a little too dashed smoothly!”
However, there was nothing for it now but playing the game out. I first took the precaution of suddenly and quietly opening the door. There was nobody at the key hole, so I took off my oilskin and put on the tweed coat, and then locked up the top drawer and put the key in my pocket. Hardly necessary to say that drawer remained as empty as the others.
“I call that either a very neat dodge, or a devilish silly one,” I said to myself. “And which it is depends entirely on the results.”
As I brushed my hair I thanked my stars I was fair, for a shave was now long overdue.
“What a pirate I’d look if I were a brunette!” I thought, and as it was, the recollection of dainty Miss Rendall made me determined to borrow a razor forthwith.
I foresaw that lunch would be a function demanding considerable tact. Seeing that I had decided, rightly or wrongly (and the Lord knew which!), not to trust these people, they had to be kept in a nice equilibrium betwixt doubt and confidence. To persuade them too thoroughly that they were entertaining a genuine British naval officer would be fatal if they were treasonably inclined, and a serious mistake if they were not, for then they might reassure the other islanders and my gang would go to earth, not to be dug up again in a hurry. On the other hand, to have them too suspicious would be all right if they were treasonable, but would probably end my adventure if they were honest.
The line I selected was a blend of mystery regarding my business, breezy chat on noncommittal topics, and an occasional oddity of conduct, such as might have been caused by a guilty conscience or a harmless strain of eccentricity (and I left them to make their choice).
Here are a few choice excerpts from our conversation, which I happen to remember more or less verbatim.
| Myself | Chattily. “Delightful air you have in your island! Like champagne—or perhaps in these parts I ought to say like whisky and soda.” |
| Mr. Rendall | Somewhat drily. “We do happen to be acquainted with champagne.” |
| Miss Rendall | Smiling pleasantly as she ate. “We probably don’t look as though we were, father. Mr. Merton’s metaphor was safer.” |
| Myself | Feeling rather an ass, but outwardly gay. “I meant no reflection on your cellar, Miss Rendall. I was merely aiming at local colour.” |
At this point I fell abruptly silent, the laugh, as it were, frozen on my lips. I gazed at my plate and then glanced furtively at my host (I was giving them their choice). The next fragment of conversation which I remember ran somewhat thus:—
| Myself | Leading up deliberately to the test question. “There’s one thing I envy the natives of this happy island. What a wonderful show of wild flowers they have! Do they make good grazing?” |
| Mr. Rendall | Again drily. “If one happens to have ruminant tastes, I believe they are edible.” |
| Miss Rendall | Brightly, but evidently unkindly. “Mr. Merton was probably thinking chiefly of the ruminant natives.” |
| Myself | Keeping sternly to the point. “I was thinking chiefly of sheep.” With a direct and steady look at the laird. “Are there many sheep on this island?” |
| Mr. Rendall | Quite calmly. “A good many. Are you anxious for statistics?” |
| Myself | Concealing my disappointment under a brave smile. “Oh no. Please don’t mistake me for an intelligent enquirer.” |
I turned the brave smile on to Miss Rendall. She smiled back very slightly. In her face I seemed to read a trace of scepticism; as if she did not quite agree with my modest estimate of myself, but at the same time thought none the better of me. I would have given a good deal to know exactly what was in her mind. Did she suspect something? And if so, what?
I had one more shot. It was an inspiration which came to me at the end of lunch when my host offered me a cigar.
“Matches?” he observed, pushing a box towards me.
Again I looked at him hard and asked,
“Have you such a thing as a wax match?”
His eyebrows rose slightly.
“If you prefer to light a cigar with a wax match I daresay I can find one.”
“If Mr. Merton doesn’t mind waiting for half an hour perhaps I might discover a box in the store room,” said Miss Rendall, and she added demurely, “beside the champagne.”
My only consolation was that I was making an idiot of myself in a good cause.
VIII
Sunday
I said good night early that evening and did a heap of thinking in my bedroom. Nothing that seems to me now to be worth recording had been said or done since luncheon. I went for a solitary walk in the afternoon, as much to carry out the part of one with some business in the isle as for any other reason. It is true I actually did do some business in the way of accosting a
