“Well, she’ll come down and inquire for you. She is not obliged to know about the people at the Fort; your yacht put in here for victualling or repairs.”
“Well?”
“When she comes, she finds you have sailed, and if we are lucky she will feel that she has missed you, and go back.”
“If she would only die!” muttered Glyddyr, but his visitor caught his words.
“Not likely to. Sort of woman with stuff enough in her to last to a hundred. It strikes me, dear boy, that you are in a fix.”
Glyddyr sat frowning.
“And now you see the value of a friend.”
“Yes,” said Glyddyr thoughtfully. “I must go.”
“And you must take me too. If she sees me, she will smell a rat.”
“Yes, confound you, and one of the worst sort. There, ring that bell.”