"You were just in time. I was about done."
"Just in time is all right, but in fact it wouldn't have done to be much later."
"Can you tell me anything of my grandfather, Philip Carré?"
"Oh, you're young Phil Carré, who started all this business, are you?"
"I'm Phil Carré. What about my grandfather?"
"We had some warm work over there, and he got a shot through the leg. Not serious, I think. But we got the schooner and a lot of the rascals, and when we found the rest had come this way we came after them. But Torode himself got away. Maybe we'll find him here somewhere."
I had not given the man in George Hamon's cave a thought for hours past, but this sudden reminder brought my mind round to him, and me to my feet, with a jerk.
He was my father—I could not doubt it, though belief was horrible. He was a scoundrel beyond most. He lay there stricken by my hand. His life was sought by the law, and would certainly be forfeited if he was found. I must find George Hamon at once.
"Are they fighting still at Dixcart?" I asked the Guernsey man.
"There was firing over yonder as we came along," he said, pointing to the south-west. "But it is finished now."