"Reason is my only guide," he declared. "But your request looks like mere caprice. For what can you possibly have to do here? The sea birds are gone to sleep and I have as much right to the air up here as you. Therefore . . ."
A thought seemed to strike him. "Surely this can't be your trysting place," he commented in a changed tone through which pierced a certain sympathy.
A short scornful laugh from the other checked him and he muttered to himself soberly, "No. Altogether unfit . . . amongst those grim old guns." He raised his voice. "All I can do is to give you all the room." He backed away from the centre of the platform and perched himself this time on the massive breech of a sixty-pounder. "Go on with your incantations," he said then to the tall and dim figure whose immobility appeared helpless for a moment. It broke the short period of silence, saying deliberately:
"I suppose you are aware that at any time since we have begun to talk together it was open to me to fling myself upon you unawares as you sat on the parapet and knock you over to the bottom of this tower?" He waited a moment, then in a deeper tone, "Will you deny it?" he said.
"No, I won't deny it," was the careless answer. "I hadn't thought to be on my guard. But I can swim."
"Don't you know there is a border of big blocks of stone there? It would have been a terrible death. . . . And now, will the signore do what I ask him and return to his inn which is a much safer place than this platform?"
"Safety is not a great inducement; and I don't believe for a moment you ever thought of attacking me in a treacherous manner."
"Well," the tall shadowy figure crowned by the shape of the strange cap admitted reluctantly. "Well, since you put it in those words, signore, I did not."
"You see! I believe you are a fine fellow. But as it is I am under no sort of obligation to listen to you."
"You are crafty," burst out the other violently. "It's in the blood. How is one to deal with people like you?"