“It was a matter of communication,” the Colonel confided. “There was an enemy submarine off here last night, and we have reason to believe that a message was landed. We caught one fellow just at dawn.”
“What did you do with him?” the Bishop asked.
“We shot him an hour ago,” was the cool reply.
“Are there any others at large?” Julian enquired, leaning forward.
“One other,” the Colonel acknowledged, sipping his wine appreciatively. “My military police here, however, are very intelligent, and I should think it very doubtful whether he can escape.”
“Was the man who was shot a foreigner?” the Earl asked. “I trust that he was not one of my tenants?”
“He was a stranger,” was the prompt assurance.
“And his companion?” Julian ventured.
“His companion is believed to have been quite a youth. There is a suggestion that he escaped in a motor-car, but he is probably hiding in the neighbourhood.”
Lord Maltenby frowned. There seemed to him something incongruous in the fact that a deed of this sort should have been committed in his domain without his knowledge. He rose to his feet.