The Zeppelin's Passenger Part 33

"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.

"Now, Captain Griffiths," she began, "do listen to me. Just one moment of common sense, if you please. What do you suppose there could possibly be in our harmless seaside village to induce any one to risk his life by coming here on behalf of the Secret Service of Germany?"

"Dreymarsh," Captain Griffiths replied, "was not made a prohibited area for nothing."

"But, my dear man, be reasonable," Philippa persisted. "There are perhaps a thousand soldiers in the place, the usual preparations along the cliff for coast defence, a small battery of anti-aircraft guns, and a couple of searchlights. There isn't a grocer's boy in the place who doesn't know all this. There's no concealment about it. You must admit that Germany doesn't need to send over a Secret Service agent to acquaint herself with these insignificant facts."

Her visitor smiled very faintly. It was the first time he had relaxed even so far as this.

"I am not in possession of any information which I can impart to you, Lady Cranston," he said, "but I am not prepared to accept your statement that Dreymarsh contains nothing of greater interest than the things which you have mentioned."

There was no necessity for Philippa to play a part now. The suggestion contained in her visitor's words had really left her in a state of wonder.

"You are making my flesh creep!" she exclaimed. "You don't mean to say that we have secrets here?"

"I have said the last word which it is possible for me to say upon the subject," he declared. "You will understand, I am sure, that I am not here in the character of an inquisitor. I simply thought it my duty, in view of the fact that you had made yourself the social sponsor for Mr. Lessingham, to place certain information before you, and to ask, unofficially, of course, if you have any explanation to give? You may even," he went on, hesitatingly, "appreciate the motives which led me to do so."

"My dear man, what explanation could I have?" Philippa protested, "it is an absolute and undeniable fact that Mr. Lessingham was at Magdalen with my brother, and also that he visited us at Wood Norton. I know both these things of my own knowledge. The only possible explanation, therefore, is that you have been misinformed."

"Or," Captain Griffiths ventured, "that Mr. Hamar Lessingham in those days pa.s.sed under another name."

"Another name?" Philippa faltered.

"Some such name, perhaps," he continued, "as Bertram Maderstrom."

There was a short silence. Captain Griffiths had leaned back in his chair and was caressing his upper lip. His eyes were fixed upon Philippa and Philippa saw nothing. Her little heel dug hard into the carpet. In a few seconds the room ceased to spin. Nevertheless, her voice sounded to her pitifully inadequate.

"What an absurdity all this is!" she exclaimed.

"Maderstrom," Captain Griffiths said thoughtfully, "was, curiously enough, an intimate college friend of your brother's. He was also a visitor at Wood Norton Hall. At neither place is there any trace of Mr. Hamar Lessingham. Perhaps you have made a mistake, Lady Cranston.

Perhaps you have recognised the man and failed to remember his name. If so, now is the moment to declare it."

"I am very much obliged to you," Philippa retorted, "but I have never met or heard of this Mr. Maderstrom--"

"Baron Maderstrom," he interrupted.

"Baron Maderstrom, then, in my life; whereas Mr. Lessingham I remember perfectly."

"I am sorry," Captain Griffiths said, setting down his empty teacup and rising slowly to his feet. "We cannot help one another, then."

"If you want me to transfer Mr. Lessingham, whom I remember perfectly, into a German baron whom I never heard of," Philippa declared boldly, "I am afraid that we can't."

"Baron Maderstrom was a Swedish n.o.bleman," Captain Griffiths observed.

"Swedish or German, I know nothing of him," Philippa persisted.

"There remains, then, nothing more to be said."

"I am afraid not," Philippa agreed sweetly.

"Under the circ.u.mstances," Captain Griffiths asked, "you will not, I am sure, expect me to dine to-night."

"Not if you object to meeting Mr. Hamar Lessingham," Philippa replied.

Her visitor's face suddenly darkened, and Philippa wondered vaguely whether anything more than professional suspicion was responsible for that little storm of pa.s.sion which for a moment transformed his appearance. He quickly recovered, however.

"I may still," he concluded, moving towards the door, "be forced to present myself here in another capacity."

CHAPTER XXII

The confinement of the house, after the departure of her unwelcome visitor, stifled Philippa. Attired in a mackintosh, with a scarf around her head, she made her way on to the quay, and, clinging to the railing, dragged herself along to where the fishermen were gathered together in a little group. The storm as yet showed no signs of abatement.

"Has anything been heard of Ben Oates' boat?" she enquired.

An old fisherman pointed seawards.

"There she comes, ma'am, up on the crest of that wave; look!"

"Will she get in?" Philippa asked eagerly.

There were varied opinions, expressed in indistinct mutterings.

"She's weathering it grand," the fisherman to whom she had first spoken, declared. "We've a line ready yonder, and we're reckoning on getting 'em ash.o.r.e all right. Lucky for Ben that the gentleman along with him is a fine sailor. Look at that, mum!" he added in excitement. "See the way he brought her head round to it, just in time. Boys, they'll come in on the next one!"

One by one the sailors made their way to the very edge of the wave-splashed beach. There were a few more minutes of breathless anxiety. Then, after the boat had disappeared completely from sight, hidden by a huge grey wall of sea, she seemed suddenly to climb to the top of it, to hover there, to become mixed up with the spray and the surf and a great green ma.s.s of waters, and then finally, with a harsh crash of timbers and a shout from the fishermen, to be flung high and dry upon the stones. Philippa, clutching the iron railing, saw for a moment nothing but chaos. Her knees became weak. She was unable to move.

There was a queer dizziness in her ears. The sound of voices sounded like part of an unreal nightmare. Then she was aware of a single figure climbing the steps towards her. There was blood trickling down his face from the wound in the forehead, and he was limping slightly.

"Mr. Lessingham!" she called out, as he reached the topmost step.

He took an eager step towards her.

"Philippa!" he exclaimed. "Why, what are you doing here?"

"I was frightened," she faltered. "Are you hurt?"

"Not in the least," he a.s.sured her. "We had a rough sail home, that's all, and that fellow Oates drank himself half unconscious. Come along, let me help you up the steps and out of this."

She clung to his arm, and they struggled up the private path to the house. Mills let them in with many expressions of concern, and Helen came hurrying to them from the background.