John and Cherriton cycled side by side. It was John's plan to spend the night with Treves's father. He was fond of the old soldier, and in deceiving him was merely carrying out his chosen part. He was playing a dangerous game in his country's interests. And the first man to applaud his actions would have been the fine old soldier, whose own son had proved so utter a disappointment. Therefore John felt no compunction in the deception.
He knew that infinite caution was required of him, and that the shrewd eyes of Captain Cherriton were always upon him. He knew that at any moment "Voules," or Cherriton or Mrs. Beecher Monmouth might stumble upon the knowledge of his true identity. In that case not only would his utility to Dacent Smith come to an abrupt end, but his own chances of escape from his enemies' ruthlessness would be hardly worth contemplating. He was surprised to find that, as he and Cherriton rode side by side, the tall German talked more volubly and affably than usual. He seemed to have forgotten his suspicions of John, his peculiar attitude in Doctor Voules's room had vanished. He questioned John cheerfully as to his recent movements, and, when John evaded his questions a little too obviously, he rallied his companion, suggesting that he was a gay dog, that he was neglecting his wife and bestowing his attentions elsewhere.
John looked at him keenly upon the mention of Elaine's name, but he could read nothing on the German's pallid, heavy-boned face. Nevertheless, as he rode, and as they drew near to Freshwater, John became aware that his companion had been pumping him with a good deal of subtlety. He was trying to find out something—what that something was John could not guess.
They rode up a long hill together and came in sight of the sea. The view was magnificent, despite the lowering clouds and the rain, which had begun to fall again. Upon their right hand, sloping towards the sea and the white cliffs, lay a wide expanse of down, broken by small coppices and clumps of gorse. There was an old grey stone farm-house, with farm buildings, in the distance and in the middle of the down, near a clump of trees, were two single-storied labourers' cottages.
Cherriton drew John's attention to these buildings.
"I want you to come and have a look at that little place, Treves," he said, in a casual tone.
"What is its particular interest?" asked John.
"It has a particular interest for me," Cherriton answered, "because I have rented it furnished for six months. It is a delightful little place, and just the sort of bachelor abode to suit me." He turned his light blue eyes and looked with what might have been called frankness into John's face. "I hope you'll give me the pleasure of being my guest there one of these days soon. Doctor Voules is lending me Conrad for servant, and I shall be able to make you fairly comfortable."
"Thanks," said John; "I shall be pleased to come."
"Why not come and have a look at it now?" continued Cherriton. "We can't ride across the heather, but there is a path, and we can push our bicycles."