“I still hate you,� she said. “I’ll always hate you for what you did with the glasses. Perhaps we can get them. I want to remember this place.�
Turning, she stared out over the shelf of rock and
widened her eyes for landmarks. There was an island which loomed through the mist. There was an opposite point of dark crags. The inlet at her left hand would be marked on a good chart of that coast.
He went on up the pathway and waited for her. His coat was drawn over his body. His cap was pulled far down upon his head. He twisted a button with long white fingers which were slightly stained with oakum. It was the brand of Dartmoor.
“We’ll go,� he said as she stepped to his side, “over the ridge and down into the lowland. I’m dead for sleep. We better avoid the main roads until I get my senses. Dutch Gus or some of the others of his gang may have landed. They’ll notify the Germans. Come on, Saidee, buck up, and don’t look so doleful!�
She flushed and followed him. He helped her now and then over the rough places. They came to a cleft in the rock. Through this opening a vista was to be had of a sloping highland which disappeared within the gray mists which rose from a long, straight canal.
Fay pointed toward a windmill whose arms were still. A huge barn and hay-rick showed at the junction of two fences. Cattle grazed on the damp grass.
“We’ll make that,â€� he said, pointing toward the hay-mow. “I must have sleep—I’m hardly myself.â€�
An Airedale, with an erect tail and a burr-clustered hide, came running up to them as they reached the fence. He sniffed at Fay’s coat, then stared at the girl with a wise cant to his head.
“He’ll stand watch,� said the cracksman. “I’ll bet he thinks we’re refugees from Germany.�