"What is this, Smithson?" said Mrs. Dashwood, as the parlourmaid handed her an envelope when she reached home.
"Mademoiselle asked me to give it to you as soon as you arrived, ma'am," said the maid, and she opened the letter.
"My husband and I are much obliged to you for your hospitality," the German girl had written in scornful mood. "We shall not trouble you any further, as we have learned all we came to know. Gott strafe the English, and in particular your detestable little boy.
"Ottilie Van Drissel."
"Good heavens! What vile ingratitude!" exclaimed Mrs. Dashwood. "I have harboured spies!"
A drizzling rain blurred the Channel, and it was high tide.
The lap of the wavelets on the pebbles sounded in the ears of a sentry who swung suddenly round and challenged, rather surprised to see by the scarlet band that the man who had approached to within two paces of him unheard was a staff officer.
"That's all right, my boy, you needn't look so flurried," said the "brass hat." "Do you know if the boat has gone over yet?"
"I ain't seen her, sir, but, then, you can't see much in this drizzle. But I'll tell you what happened last night, sir; them there lights showed again up yonder."