"But then how shall I get back?"
"I shall drive you over," smiled Tiel. "There will probably be a dying woman who desires the consolations of religion in that neighbourhood on Monday night."
I smiled too, but merely at the cunning of the man, not at the thought of parting with my motor-cycle. However, I saw perfectly well that it would be folly to ride it over, and if I left it behind at the manse—well, I was scarcely likely to call for it again!
"Now, Belke," said Tiel, "we had better get you safely back to your turret chamber. You have been away quite as long as is safe."
I bowed to Captain Ashington—I could not bring myself to touch his hand, and we left his great gross figure sipping whisky-and-soda.
"What do you think of him?" asked Tiel.
"He seems extremely competent," I answered candidly. "But what an unspeakable scoundrel!"
"We mustn't quarrel with our instruments," said he philosophically. "He is doing Germany a good turn. Surely that is enough."
"I should like to think that Germany did not need to stoop to use such characters!"
"Yes," he agreed, though in a colourless voice, "one would indeed like to think so."