"Why didn't she use her pistol, and be done with it?"
But, on the other hand, it was a most extraordinary coincidence that her father should have passed that spot certainly within three or four minutes previously, and that he should have seen no sign of my enemy. So far as I could remember the length of time I had spent groping among the rocks, it was just possible for Mr. Rendall to pass by and for the other man then to begin his work of decoying me, but certainly it was an unpleasant coincidence.
And finally there was a last alternative: that I might have been mistaken in thinking I was actually assailed and instead of that—But what other conceivable explanation could there be? I tried hard but could think of none.
With the flame of optimism burning now somewhat low, I kept on following the shore till I was well past the scenes of both my night adventures and had come to the little sandy bay with the huddle of low grey farm buildings just clear of the tide. I found Peter senior painting his boat on the shore and hailed him cheerfully with the same old guttural accent.
"Painting your boat, I see," said I.
He gave me a long look and one word.
"Ay," said he, and went on painting.
It struck me at once that he was even more wary and more reticent than before, but I was determined to extract some information.
"I have been guarding you against the Germans! Last night I patrolled your coast!" I informed him with great enthusiasm.
He looked at me rather curiously, I thought.