Nor was Mr. Greenwood alone in the possession of the supposed secret, for already several of the officers' wives and families had braved the rigours of the wintry climate and had taken either furnished houses or apartments in the town, which since the war had developed out of all knowledge.
Having duly rid himself of his responsibility of handing Doris over to the Head Nursing Sister, Mr. Greenwood set out on his quest for H.M.S. "Pompey." Being naturally of a somewhat nervous disposition, he hesitated to ask if the cruiser were in harbour, reflecting that such a question might lead to his arrest as a spy. In his imagination he fancied that everyone he met eyed him with suspicion.
At length he arrived at the shore of an arm of the intricate harbour. Lying at moorings in the channel were half a dozen destroyers, but there were no signs of any vessel approaching the armoured cruiser in tonnage.
For some moments he stopped to read a notice-board on which was set forth a list of things that the inhabitants of Auldhaig must or must not do, the document being signed by the senior naval officer of the port.
"There's nothing like taking every possible precaution," murmured Mr. Greenwood approvingly. "One cannot be too particular in wartime."
Just then an old fisherman sauntered by. To him the stranger addressed himself, inquiring if he knew whether the "Pompey" was in harbour.
The old Scot shook his head.
"I dinna ken what you say, mon," he said.
Mr. Greenwood repeated his question.
"Oh—ay. Weel, tak yon path——"