"Say, Greenwood, I feel an odd man out with this little crew. Nip in and come along to keep me company. While these young people are roaming over the moors, we'll try our luck with the trout."
The speaker was Dr. Cardyke. A week had elapsed since the "Merope" had put in to Dartmouth. The court of enquiry was a thing of the past, and the surviving officers and men of the "Heracles" had been given leave.
Tressidar had gone home, having first given young Greenwood a ready promise to put in a day or two at the Greenwoods' house, and now the sub. was fulfilling his obligations.
On the morning following Tressidar's arrival the genial doctor had given the Greenwoods and their guest an invitation for a "spin in the car." Cardyke's "spin" meant a whole day on the breezy uplands of Dartmoor. Mrs. Greenwood, still feeling the reaction of her prolonged suspense, was unable to go. Her husband, having to report himself that night for duty with the National Guards, also "cried off," though not without regret. Yet, he argued proudly, work in the service of one's country that does not entail self-sacrifice isn't worth being called patriotism.
Consequently the doctor's guests were Doris and her friend Norah Ward, Eric and Ronald, and, in view of the possibility, nay probability, that he would have to commune with nature while the youthful picnickers roamed the moors, he again threw out an invitation to his old crony with the alluring prospect of trout-fishing thrown in.
"Duty, Cardyke, duty," protested Mr. Greenwood, although the doctor saw that he was wavering. "Must report at Ferncoombe Reservoir at eleven-thirty to-night."
"We'll be back long before then," said the doctor tentatively.
"I know what your motor spins are, my dear fellow," rejoined Mr. Greenwood. "It's a good hour and a half's tramp from here to Ferncoombe, remember."
"Look here, slip into your uniform. A trout won't fight shy of a fly any more for that, you know. We'll have a topping time, and I'll drop you at Ferncoombe on the return journey."
Greenwood senior figuratively hauled down his colours. With great alacrity he donned his uniform of the National Guard, deposited his rifle and fishing-tackle in the car, and took his seat alongside the doctor. The rest of the party were already in occupation of the remaining "crew-space," together with a well-filled hamper and Doris's Irish terrier.