“So we’ve been supposing; but we may be wrong. We’re still in the dark as to Dollmann’s position towards these Germans. They may not even know he’s English, or they may know that and not know his real name and past. What effect your story will have on their relations with him we can’t forecast. But I’m clear about one thing, that it’s our paramount interest to maintain the status quo as long as we can, to minimise the danger you ran that day, and act as witnesses in his defence. We can’t do that if his story and yours don’t tally. The discrepancy will not only damn him (that may be immaterial), but it will throw doubt on us.”
“Why?”
“Because if the short cut was so dangerous that he dared not own to having led you to it, it was dangerous enough to make you suspect foul play; the very supposition we want to avoid. We want to be thought mere travellers, with no scores to wipe out, and no secrets to pry after.”
“Well, what do you propose?”
“Hitherto I believe we stand fairly well. Let’s assume we hoodwinked von Brüning at Bensersiel, and base our policy on that assumption. It follows that we must show Dollmann at the earliest possible moment that you have come back, and give him time to revise his tactics before he commits himself. Now——”
“But she’ll tell him we’re back,” interrupted Davies.
“I don’t think so. We’ve just agreed to keep this afternoon’s episode a secret. She expects never to see us again.”
“Now, he comes to-morrow by the morning boat, she said. What did that mean? Boat from where?”
“I know. From Norddeich on the mainland opposite. There’s a railway there from Norden, and a steam ferry crosses to the island.”
“At what time?”