“They certainly seemed to have some objection to letting any one land,” said Miss Rutherford. “Every time I suggested going there Jimmy has headed me off with one excuse or another.”
“They have very good reasons,” said Priscilla. “I have more or less idea what they are; but of course I can’t tell you. It’s never right to tell other people’s secrets unless you’re perfectly sure that you know them yourself, and I’m not sure. You hardly ever can be unless you happen to be one of the people that has the secret and in this case I’m not.”
“I don’t want to ask embarrassing questions,” said Miss Rutherford, “though I’m almost consumed with curiosity about the secret. But are you quite sure that it’s of a kind that will really prevent Lord Torrington landing there?”
“Quite absolutely, dead, cock sure,” said Priscilla. “If I’m right about the secret and I think I am, though of course it’s quite possible that I may not be, but if I am there isn’t a man about the bay who wouldn’t die a thousand miserable deaths rather than let Lord Torrington and the police sergeant land on that island.”
“Then all we’ve got to do,” said Miss Rutherford, “is to get her there and she’s safe.”
Priscilla hurriedly turned over the corner of the spinnaker and got out the jam pot. She glanced at its paper cover.
“Inishbawn is an inviolable sanctuary,” she said. “What a mercy it is that I wrote down that word last night. I had forgotten it again. It’s a desperately hard word to remember.”
“It’s a very good word,” said Miss Rutherford.
“It’s useful anyhow,” said Priscilla. “In fact, considering what we’re going to do I don’t see how we could very well get on without it. I suppose it’s rather too early to have luncheon.”
“It’s only half past eleven,” said Frank, “but——”