“Oh,” said Frank vaguely.
“They brought me over from the British Museum because I’m supposed to know something about the zoophytes. I ought to, for I don’t know anything else.”
“It must be most interesting.”
“Last week I did the fresh water lakes and got some very good results. Professor Wilder and his wife are doing rotifers. They’re stopping——”
“In tents?” said Frank with interest.
“Tents! No. In quite the sweetest cottage you ever saw. I sleep on a sofa in the porch. What put tents into your head?”
“Then it wasn’t Professor Wilder and his wife whose boat you rescued just now?”
“Oh, dear no. I don’t know who those people are at all. I never saw them before. Miss Benson is doing the lichens, and Mr. Farringdon the moths. They’re the only other members of our party here at present, and I’m the only one out on the bay.”
Frank was conscious of a sense of relief. It would have been a disappointment to him if the German spies had turned out to be harmless botanists or entomologists.
Jimmy Kinsella was sitting in front of his boat gazing placidly at the sea when Priscilla tapped him on the shoulder.