"Are there really many people on the cliffs?" demanded Constance.
Pyne pounded the bone viciously.
"I go out of my way to inform you of a number of interesting and strictly accurate facts," he protested, "and one of you burns her fingers and the other doubts my word. Yet, if I called your skepticism unfeeling, Miss Enid would be angry."
"I don't know why kettle lids are so cantankerous," said Enid. "They seem to get hot long before the water does."
"The hottest part of any boil is on top," said Pyne.
Enid smiled forgiveness. "I believe you would be cheerful if you were going to be electrocuted," she said, pensively. "Yet, goodness knows, it is hard to keep one's spirits up this morning. The sea is as bad as ever. What will become of us if we get no relief today?"
"Mr. Pyne," interrupted Constance suddenly, "do you think that any of the men can have gained access to the store-room during the night?"
"I can't say for sure," he replied. "What has put that into your mind?"
"The purser and I examined all that was left this morning, and we both agreed that some of the things had disappeared. It is very strange."
Pyne was not wholly prepared for this mine being sprung on him. So he essayed to gain time.