"I hope you really are perfectly certain, Jimmy," said Sir Evelyn. "This is a serious business. If it turns out afterwards that you're mistaken—if they find so much as one case of brandy——"
"They won't," said Jimmy. "I'll make over the Pallas Athene to an idiot asylum for the use of the inmates if they find anything worse than a half smoked cigarette in that cave."
"You'd know—you'd be certain to know if——"
"I steered the old lugger myself," said Jimmy, "and I know all there is to know about what happened."
Chapter XX
From a very early hour in the morning a sense of impending disaster hung over the village of Hailey Compton. The older Bunce stood at his cottage door with a sulky scowl on his face. The members of the lugger's crew, morose and anxious men, sought comfort at the Anchor Inn. They found the two policemen who were not on duty at the cave, and went away again uncomforted. The younger Bunce, Tommy Whittle, and others who had taken part in landing the cargo, wandered about disconsolate and miserable. No one knew what was going to happen. James Hinton, from whom it was natural to seek advice, had disappeared and no one knew where he had gone. There was some talk, low growling talk, about sending a deputation to the vicarage to ask Mrs. Eames for advice, or information, or anything else she might be inclined to give. No one believed that Mrs. Eames's advice would be any use, or her information the least reliable; but it would have been a comfort even to hear her talk.
At ten o'clock Gladys hurried down from the vicarage to visit her aunt. She reported excitedly that Mrs. Eames was still in bed and fast asleep, that the two young ladies were in bed so sound asleep that no noise wakened them. The village felt that its last prop and stay had been removed and settled down into gloomy silence.
Shortly before twelve o'clock the Pallas Athene, hooting constantly, came down the hill, and the sight of Jimmy's face, smiling and confident, brought a momentary cheerfulness to the village. But behind the Pallas Athene, close behind it, came another car, and in it, very soon discernible by the anxious eyes of the watchers, were men in uniform, that neat, half naval uniform of customs officers. The gloom of undefined dread settled down on everyone again. Old Bunce growled sulky curses. Younger men muttered threats, which they knew they dare not fulfil. Only Jimmy offered the officers any kind of welcome, but his manner made amends for the sullen hostility of everyone else. He was gay and jocular. He handed round his cigar case. He suggested draughts of beer to be drawn at his expense. He offered to act as guide to the cave. He accompanied the party along the street, over the green and across the loose white stones of the beach.
He would have gone with them into the cave but was stopped. The senior officer fully appreciated Jimmy's courtesy and friendliness. No Englishman is indifferent to the friendliness of an earl, and Jimmy had introduced himself. But no Englishman, when on duty, will allow even an earl the smallest privilege. Duty, especially duty done in uniform, is a very sacred thing. Jimmy was obliged to wait outside at the mouth of the cave.
He waited there for half an hour and smoked four cigarettes. He waited there another half-hour, smoking a pipe instead of cigarettes. After an hour and a half he sent the mentally deficient Whittle, the only villager who ventured near the cave, back to the Anchor Inn for beer. While he was drinking the beer the officers appeared again.