Then he discussed the war and his work, explaining how much of it all entailed upon him—constant rushes to the Wireless Station, where they were ordered to let no one in now; incessant false alarms; the arranging of everything in case of invasion.
"You know that man with the broken leg still says he was too far in to have fallen over," he said. "He said he was amongst the gorse inland when he was tripped up and fell."
"Drunk, of course?" said Mrs. Weston.
"A teetotaller," said Mr. Keefe, again staving off irritability; "and now we have some whisper of wireless messages being sent off the coast."
"Mrs. Weston and I," said Gheena, riding up, "are going to search right along the cliffs for caves and holes. We might find where the petrol base is, if there is one, and then you'll be promoted."
Little Keefe snapped out that he did not believe in the rumours.
Beauty towled out her long note; a fox had been somewhere about.
"You must take off those lovely shoes of yours if you're going for long walks on the cliffs," remarked Keefe fatuously. "Never do it on those heels you wear, Mrs. Violet."
A minute later Stafford, who had ridden to their right, came up to Gheena. She was on the young horse, managing it perfectly, her bright face glowing as she played with his mouth.
"Look here," he said earnestly, "you are not to attempt to look along these cliffs, you two girls. Have you thought what it might mean if there really was a base, and desperate men earning their living by holding it? As their lives would certainly be over if they were found, do you think they would let you two come back quietly to tell the police?"