“Hold your foul tongue!” he cried and then turned away and I could see a kind of shiver run over him.
“God forgive me!” he murmured. “I never struck a man when he was down before!” And then he recovered himself a little and added, “But is a German a human being?”
Meanwhile Jean was already bringing a bundle of rope from the corner under my cousin’s direction, and in a few minutes his practised hands had knotted our prisoner up so securely that we were able to move aside from him and hold a hasty council of war.
“Now for the rest of the gang!” said my uncle. “Do you suppose they’ve heard us and bolted?”
“Do you mean the Scollays?” asked Jean. “Oh, I don’t believe they knew!”
“My dear young lady, it’s very painful for you to think your tenants are playing such games, but they simply must have known!”
“We can’t afford to give them the benefit of the doubt,” said Jack Whiteclett. “That’s absolutely certain. I am afraid I must arrest them, Miss Rendall, and the sooner it’s over the better.”
“Jack!” commanded our uncle, “this is a matter I think I could handle rather better than a hotheaded young man.” (Commander Whiteclett, it may be mentioned, was reputed in the Navy to have a remarkably cool head.) “Dr. Rendall, perhaps you will be good enough to keep watch over our prisoner for a few minutes while we are gone. Roger, give the doctor your pistol. If we hear you fire, doctor, we’ll be out in a few seconds. Jack and Roger, come along with me.”
Jack and I exchanged a look but said nothing. Our uncle still held the torch, and flashing it before him led the way out of the barn. We followed him, but my eyes I am afraid were over my shoulder. I saw Jean slip her own torch into the doctor’s hand and then she ran after me.
“May I come too!” she whispered.
“Of course!” I said, “you’re in command of the party—or ought to be!” and out we went together.
The farm yard made rough walking, and there seemed every excuse for my taking her arm and none for her objecting; nor did she.
“Who is this delightful, arbitrary old gentleman?” she asked in my ear. “You never introduced me!”
“Our uncle,” I murmured back. “Jack and I both have expectations so we’ve got to give him his head!”
I must say Sir Francis stage-managed our entrance into the Scollays’ house very effectively. As he quietly opened the door, he got us all close behind him, exactly like a band of robbers, so that we trod on one another’s heels down a yard or two of narrow passage. The Scollays were all seated round the kitchen table when our uncle’s figure suddenly towered out of the gloom, his pistol covering Peter senior’s head, and his voice thundering:
“Hands up!”
At the first command they simply gasped.
“Hands up or I fire!” thundered Sir Francis again, and up went every pair of hands, and what is more they stayed up.
“Your confederate is captured and has confessed everything!” announced Sir Francis.
The family visibly trembled but looked more amazed than ever.
“This fellow they call—” My uncle looked over his shoulder and whispered, “What the devil was the fellow’s name.” And then in his stentorian voice again, “This fellow called Jock has confessed! So I know all about it. What have you got to say for yourselves?”
I saw their bewildered eyes wandering from one to the other of the family, and in a moment Mrs. Scollay asked in a quavering voice,
“What’s come over Jock, do ye say, sir?”
“He has confessed!” repeated my uncle. “We know that he is a German spy!”
He glared at each astounded face in turn and then exclaimed over his shoulder,
“By Heaven, I actually don’t believe they knew!”
“I think, sir, if you’ll allow me,” suggested my cousin, “I’d like to put a few questions.”
“Well,” growled our uncle, “fire away!”
We all trooped into the kitchen and the whole four of us cross-examined that family in turn, so that by the end of it we got a pretty good idea of how the land lay.
It seemed that two years before, the Scollays had been visited by a polite stranger apparently of the tourist species. This gentleman, after admiring the healthy yet retired situation of their residence, had suddenly been seized with an inspiration. The very place for an unfortunate young man of his acquaintance! he cried, and thereupon asked them if they could take charge of a blameless, helpless, harmless idiot. The stranger hinted that there were the best of reasons why the parents of this unfortunate wished him kept in the background. He had been boarded out previously, it appeared, but too near home, and now here was an ideal out-of-the-way spot for his retirement! The terms were so handsome that further enquiries on the Scollays’ part seemed superfluous, and so in a week’s time Jock had arrived.
His harmlessness had been absolutely guaranteed, provided always that no restraints were put upon him and that any little innocent fancy was indulged. Thus he wandered all over the island and at all hours, sometimes even wandering out at night when the foolish fancy took him, until this was accepted as the normal thing for harmless Jock. Another innocent whim he had of making a collection of rubbishy odds and ends and keeping them in a box in the barn. He had even repeated “Lock! Lock!” and stamped his harmless foot till they good-naturedly provided him with a lock and key for this treasure chest. And thus long before August, , Jock was provided with a character that rendered his habits above suspicion, and a strong box which nobody would ever dream of examining.
Two or three times the same polite tourist paid a visit to the island to see how the poor demented young man was being looked after, and on these occasions
