"If you don't take yourself off, I'll send some of my pupils to fetch the coast-guard!" she thundered.
With an apologetic shrug of the shoulders the interloper packed up his camera and departed, not without trying to secure a hurried surreptitious snapshot with a small kodak, an effort which was nipped in the bud by Miss Paget, who stood like a sentry at the gate, speeding his departure. She watched him till he was safely out of sight and then joined the excited girls, some of whom had overheard the conversation.
"That's no American!" she proclaimed. "And I don't for a moment believe that he had permission from Miss Kingsley to photograph the school."
"She'd have said so, surely," commented Vivien.
"Probably he didn't even know her name till you mentioned it, Miss Paget," said Lorraine.
"He's a foreigner in my opinion—possibly a spy," continued the mistress. "This field would make a most excellent landing-place for enemy aircraft. One can't be too careful in these matters—living as we do near the coast, in a military zone. The cheek of the man, too! Calmly to set up his camera and begin to take us without asking leave! Even in times of peace it would be unpardonable. I must say I have the very strongest suspicions of his intentions."
"It seems rather the wrong time for an American magazine to be wanting an article on English Girls' Schools," said Patsie.
"It's the most flimsy excuse."
The affair made quite a sensation in the school. Miss Kingsley, when the matter was reported to her, disclaimed all knowledge of the photographer or any commission to him to take the hockey teams. She was justly indignant, and almost thought of mentioning the incident to the police. The girls talked the affair threadbare. They were quite sure they had had an encounter with a spy. Their suspicions were further justified in the course of a few days by an experience of Lorraine's.
She was going by train on Saturday morning to Ranock, a little place a few miles from Porthkeverne, whither her mother had sent her to return some books to a friend who lived near the station. There were several other people in the compartment; and sitting in the corner on the side next to the sea was a man whom Lorraine was nearly sure she recognized as the pertinacious stranger of the hockey field. She watched him now keenly. He was gazing out of the window at the sand-hills and stretches of marshy shore. Presently they passed the golf links, and, quick as thought, he whisked a little kodak from his pocket and began to take instantaneous photographs through the carriage window. Lorraine uttered an exclamation and nudged the gentleman who sat next to her. Promptly he interfered.